Marine Corps Marathon 2009 - Race Report

Yay! I finished my very first marathon! (05:31:18)

To tell you the truth, I had no idea how big a deal it seemed to be to other people for me to finish. I went out to D.C. because I had a very personal goal and it was very surprising to me that so many friends and colleagues were interested in supporting me and cheering me on. So thanks friends! :)

The Marines run such a fantastic and organized race, and it's very evident why it's so popular. I think it took less than 5 minutes to pick up my race packet. For such a huge race, that was incredible to me. When I ran Long Beach last year it took 20 minutes easily, and I've had to wait in packet pick-up lines for many 5Ks as well. So to basically show up and have the Marines there almost immediately produce my bib, race packet goodie bag, and shirt was incredibly impressive.

Very funny side story: As my friend who I was staying with and I were approaching the queue for bib pick-up, I realized I had forgotten what size shirt I stated on my registration that I should get. It wasn't listed on my e-Confirmation either. My friend said, "Oh, don't worry. I'm sure they'll have some young strapping Marine size you up and say, 'oh, I think you're a size C!'"

I go pick up my bib and head over to the table to get my goodie bag and shirt. The Lance Corporal handing out shirts asked me what size I needed and I said, "You know, honestly I don't know!" He blatantly looked me over and said, "It's just me, but I think a size small would fit you best" and laid out a shirt for me to compare myself to. Just wow. He totally lined himself up for volunteering for this job, and he is having an awesome day. :)

The weather on Race Day was absolutely perfect. It started off pretty chilly in the morning but it turned into such a gorgeous day. It was nice to be running the start of the race in the neighborhoods around Georgetown and see the trees whose leaves had started to turn.

Watching the 2 Osprey V-22s fly by overhead in both helicopter and airplane mode before the race was pretty awesome to witness. It was also nice feeling followed by the black Army helicopter throughout the race.

A big "Ooh Rah" to the Marine Captain who ran the marathon in full cammies and boots, carrying his unit's guidon. I saw him around mile 2, and thought if I kept up with him there was definitely no way he would be put onto the stragglers bus if we didn't beat the bridge. At this point in the race I was very worried I wouldn't be able to keep up my pace. I did eventually pass this Marine around mile 4 and I hope he made it OK.

The amount of support this race has is absolutely astonishing. Not only do you have Marines along the course cheering you on you also have A LOT of spectators. The sidewalks are literally lined with spectators and at times it feels there isn't enough room to get past them.

I did see the White House when I was running around the Mall. I'm not familiar enough with Washington geography to really know any of the museums or memorials I saw, and my eyes were more focused on the road than they were on the monuments.

Beating the bridge at mile 20 was a great feeling. It was something I was worried about and to know I had made it was such a relief. There was a runner who caught up with me around mile 18 and said that he must have seen me 100 times that day; he commented that our strategies were different but we had the exact same pace. I was run-walking and he was running the whole thing. He said he might try my strategy some other time. I'm pretty sure he passed me for good by the end of the race though; I was pretty worn out by the end.

Those last six miles were absolutely brutal. After beating the bridge, my feet swelled up around mile 22 and made it very painful to run (on top of my legs feeling very tired). I walked most of the last six miles. The leg of the race down into Crystal City was also fairly demoralizing, despite the spectators. The course is such that you run down one side of the street and come back up the other, but there's no real clue as to *how far* you need to go.

I was lucky to not really hit the wall. I can't imagine how difficult it would have been to just finish if that had happened to me. So I'm glad that I was careful in pacing out my calorie intake during the race. Those oranges they had at mile 9 were soooo yummy and satisfying! I wouldn't have minded taking a Gu from all the Marines calling out that they had Mocha flavored Gu, but I've *tried* Mocha flavored Gu and it's truly nasty. So I skipped that. The sport jelly beans were a god send as I had run out of my own fuel by that point and I was starting to get ravenous.

I only had the urge to sit down once. But I knew if I did I wouldn't finish.

It's a cruel joke to tell people "they're almost there" when they have 5 more miles to go. I thought the Grim Reaper hanging out around mile 24 with the sign "The End is Near" was hilarious.

The last two miles, but most especially the last mile are really tough. The course runs you through the starting area, which looks to be a bit of a ghost town by the time I made it there. Then the course winds down a ramp before finishing at the top of a really steep hill. I tried running up the hill but had to walk part of it.

The post-race organization was also very impressive. Lines of congratulations from all the Marines is truly humbling. There's a line of Marines who are handing out space blankets; the Marine who gave me mine made me turn around and wrapped the space blanket around me. You get herded into chutes where 2nd Lts give you your finisher's medal; the Lieutenant who gave me mine must have seen how I was hurting and pointed out where I could get my finisher's photo at the Iwo Jima War Memorial, Powerade, and food packet. Immediately after getting your medal there are photographers taking candid finisher photos. I headed over to get Powerade before I got my photo taken; the Gunny who gave me a bottle of Powerade looked at me with kind blue eyes and said, "There you go dear." After getting used to being called "ma'am" by Marines all day, it was kind of nice to see this guy who was old enough to be my uncle or dad say something compassionate.

I thanked each and every Marine who helped me out that day, and they all said "You're welcome" back to me. I sort of feel like there's a Hemingway/Donne-esque "No Man is an Island" thing going on. It's very humbling.

Actually finishing the race was anti-climatic for me. Even now I have mixed feelings about it. I don't feel triumphant, I don't feel instantly more special or more unique than I did the day before. I don't even feel like I've accomplished anything extraordinary and I'm not even sure I gained what I set out to gain by doing this. I'm surprised at how many people have commented on how big of an accomplishment it was for me. I honestly wasn't looking for recognition from my friends and loved ones, so to be getting so much of it was a real surprise. It was such a relief just to trot across the finish line. I started weeping and kept thinking to myself, "I did it! I did it!" When I called my parents my dad asked me what was wrong because he could hear me crying over the phone.

I recommend skipping the shuttle buses and just taking the Rosslyn metro back to wherever you started from. I waited about an hour for a shuttle before I decided my bladder couldn't wait any more and I dropped out of the line to use a port-o-potty. Then I tried the metro line which went *much* faster.

At any rate, I want to run it next year. It's on Halloween, so I guess I'll be chasing more than my own personal ghosts. I'm pretty sure I can beat my time.

Last- Minute Marathon Tips

Because this is so neat. . .
The guy is a coach in NYC (Toby Tanser).

Last Minute Marathon Tips: shot with Nikon D90 from Mike Kobal on Vimeo.

Why I Run

I'm running my first marathon in a few short days. I'm undertrained, but I know I can at least walk the distance. I will probably be able to run at least half the distance, and I don't expect my time to be less than 5 hours. I've never claimed to be a fast runner.

I've been a bundle of nervous energy, excitement, and anxiousness. I don't doubt that these feelings will only intensify in the time between now and the start time.

Running this marathon has been a goal of mine for such a long time. Whenever people ask me why, and I try to explain it to them, some of them get it, and others don't. I had several people chew me out that I *shouldn't* have this as a goal, and that my purpose for doing it was silly and unnecessary.

A few years ago, I was a Marine Officer Candidate for a few short days. But what a glorious few days that was for me. It was my dream to become a Marine Intelligence Officer, a dream I fostered and held dearly for 15 months. 8 weeks before I was to ship out, I rolled my ankle during an OCS prep weekend. 4 weeks later, I contracted a cold that turned into a sinus infection. I was not physically ready to go the day I shipped out. I failed the initial physical fitness test (PFT) on the run and my dream ended before it even had a chance to get started. A star winked out for me that day.

Could I have tried to apply to OCS again? Sure, but I would have needed a perfect score on the PFT, something I knew I could not obtain on my own.

I had never failed anything I had wanted like that in my entire life. I was personally devastated.

Life has since taken me on a different path, one that most would argue has been for the better. But I still felt that some lost part of me lay discarded somewhere in Virginia. An idea was born.

What better way to regain face than to run the Marine Corps Marathon? Since I had fallen out on the run, which was a measly 3 miles, what better way to tell the Marines that they had made a mistake if I could go back and traverse 26.2 miles on their turf, not far from where I fell out of the PFT?

I'm no longer bitter or disappointed with the way things turned out, although I do think of it from time to time and wonder how my life might have turned out. And my experience with the Marine Corps has changed my life for the better. Through the Marine Corps I was introduced to running. Were it not for the lessons I learned while running and for having running as a hobby I would not have had the resilience to bounce back as well as I did earlier this year. I am much healthier today than I was then. So I have the Corps to thank for that.

Is it a silly goal? Perhaps. But it is my goal and if I drop out of it now, what does that say about me?

I <3 Dan Savage

Dan Savage is a smart and witty journalist who authors Savage Love for Seattle's The Stranger.

In response to this New York Times' article Grievous Choice on Risky Path to Parenthood, Dan wrote this scathing post, whose sentiments I share exactly.

The Stansels keep a blog here. In the editorial, there is a photo of one of their babies' feet. The child's foot is so tiny the Stansels were able to slip their wedding rings on the foot. And then take a photo. You've got to be kidding me. Human depravity knows no bounds.

A couple videos from interviews Dan Savage has done with Steven Colbert, from last year:

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Gay Roundup - Dan Savage
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor Michael Moore

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Proposition 8 Protests - Dan Savage
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor Michael Moore

Perseverance

The truth about grit

I like the idea of grit. Merriam-Webster defines the quality of grit as "firmness of mind or spirit : unyielding courage in the face of hardship or danger".

Grit is an old-fashioned, honest quality. Manly, but in a non-sexist way. I'd like to think that women can by gritty too, but I'd also like to think there was a more feminine way to call that quality.

When all else fails, try, try again. Pick yourself up and keep going. Because the only person you can truly rely on is yourself. I'm being very honest here. We are all born into this world alone, and we die alone. Much of our lives we struggle on our own. There is no one else who can shoulder that burden for us but ourselves.

By pushing our responsibility of traveling through this life onto others, we commit ourselves to mediocrity and misery. There is nothing wrong with having a companion, in fact, I most love the concept of having a confidant with which to share my life and experiences with. But in the end I'll still be on my own.

I'm not quite sure what my thesis for this post is supposed to be. There was something in the original article that made me think about what it means to be an adult, what it means to truly be self sufficient. And I definitely think grit is one of those things you must possess if you truly desire growing up.

Miramar Air Show

OK, the photo isn't from the air show, but I like it.

I have a soft spot in my heart for Marines, and for Marine rotor craft units. My dad used to maintain them, and as a child I remember going to Marine Corps Air Station Tustin and just being in awe of the huge hangars they had there. The city of Tustin desperately wants to tear those hangars down in the name of development, and when that eventually happens a part of my childhood, a part of whatever mythology I crafted for myself, will die forever, to only live in my memory. When I am gone what will be left?

I went to the airshow last weekend, and had a blast. When I was a little girl my daddy would take me to the air show in Chino, and I imagine the air show in Tustin as well, to see the planes. To go down to Miramar last weekend and touch the aircraft again was a delight for me. To smell that odd, distinctly military smell of sweat, dust, and motor oil was a treat. To feel that cargo webbing and steel painted over in olive drab again was heaven. To touch the nose of the Super Stallion that touches the sky - is ecstasy.

To be among Marines again, to be among the few and the proud. I was comfortable in that environment, being on a military base again. If you know how to talk to them, they'll let you in their world.

"Hey Marines! Do you know where [Parking Lot] Silver 1 is?"

"Oh sure - it's all the way down this road. Here; I'll walk you out."

"Oh that's not necessary"

"It's OK. We're not doing anything around here anyway. (To his buddies) Hey watch that van and make sure nothing happens with that."

"How are you tonight?"

"Oh, we're all right - been doin' this since seven this morning. We'll probably be here until midnight tonight, and then we get to wake up at six AM tomorrow and do this again." I don't know anyone in the military who doesn't complain about this all-encompassing duty that seems to allow for less-than-optimal sleep. I mean, they ALL do it, and they all use the same phrases.

"I see." A car approaches from behind, and the Marine's buddy says, "Hey man, move over to the side of the road."

"Eh, he can go around." He waves his arm so the car will pass.

They're all so young. When we walked onto the flight line that afternoon, there was a slender Marine wearing cammies that looked oversized for his tall frame, and BCGs that made him look geeky. I wonder if he joined to prove his friends he was tough. He gave us a big grin and waved us into the correct direction.

One Marine stopped me to check my bag and called me ma'am. Whenever grocery checkers call me ma'am it kind of irritates me, because I am NOT old enough to be a ma'am. I make exception for the military.

Some psychologist says that the sound of car engines arouses women. I think jet engines work better. :)

Coffee Break

Sometimes (more often than I care to admit), I will wander across the street from work to the Coffee Bean for a cup of that delightful black brew. I know I'm going far too often because the employees recognize me and know me by name. They even know what I typically order - a small (or regular, depending on how tired I am) Americano, with room for cream.

An Americano is comprised of espresso and hot water. If that's not enough for you, get a Red Eye. It's espresso and drip coffee. I like the term sailors and Marines have come up for it: A "depth charge".

Anyway, I'm at the bar thing that has the sugar packets and carafes of half-and-half, 2%, non-dairy and whatever else they have out for creamer. It's nice that they have those little sticks for stirrers. So much better than the short plastic straws, which never reach the bottom of your cup to stir up the sugar crystals.

He walks in. I haven't seen this dude in ages. Back in the day, we would head out for Starbucks runs around 10:00 AM and commiserate over failing relationships and work politics. Since the last time I ran into him, he's moved at least once and had a baby with his girlfriend (wife now? I didn't check his hand for a ring). This was the guy who used to tell me, "Don't chase 'em; replace 'em!"

"Hey!" He says. "I haven't seen you in forever! What's new?"

I wait for him to order, and as he's pouring cream and sugar into his cup he says out of the blue,

"Diane, you're going to make a great mom."

Huh? Where the hell did THAT come from?

"You know why? You're patient, and really kind."

I know he's being sincere, but it wasn't quite the pick-me-up I wanted that afternoon.