The Race Report

This posting will probably be a long one, so just like in a marathon, you should probably pace yourselves.

The night before the race, Beth, Dan and I went out to dinner with Beth’s brother Dan and his wife Arlene. They took us to a great Italian place. We figured out pretty quickly that it was prom weekend—there were several large tables of kids in tuxes and ballgowns. Beth and I spent most of the beginning of dinner picking out the dresses that we would and would not allow our daughters to wear. I must be getting old, because I thought a couple of the selections were racier than wedding night lingerie! But we loaded up on carbs and went back to the hotel for a good night’s sleep.

I actually slept okay that night. I woke up a few times during the night, but overall, I think I was well rested. Though, when the alarm goes off at 3:30am, there’s no getting around the unpleasantness! I had showered the night before, and was planning to wear a hat during the race, so we basically rolled out of bed and got ready. We slathered the Aquaphor on our feet to prevent chafing, and on other areas (like underarms believe it or not) to prevent chafing. I packed a little bag with a change of shoes for after the race—I had gotten a cute pair of crocs at the expo on Saturday, and since UPS was offering a “bag check”, I thought I would take advantage of it.

We went downstairs to the lobby for about 4:15. We met up with the rest of our team, and ate breakfast. Luckily a bunch of people had brought peanut butter, so I had something with protein to put on my bagel. We took our group photo and got on the bus.

When we arrived at Balboa Park, it was still dark out. We walked up the hill and across the grass and found our “Eastern PA Spot”, and all just sort of sat around waiting. Some of you may know that I have a tendency to cry when I get nervous (anyone remember me sitting on my driveway the morning of our wedding?) So every time someone would ask how we were feeling or whatever, I would cry. I was terrified! All sorts of things go through your head—will I be able to do this? Will I let everyone down? Will my foot start to hurt? What if I have to pee and the line for the port a potties is too long? So I called my friend Liz, back in CT (it was 8:30am there). Liz has done a couple of TNT events, and is training for the Nike Women’s Marathon in October. She made me laugh—just the sound of her voice helped me to relax a little bit. Thanks a million, Lizzer-Bean!

We visited the port-a-potties a couple of times. The lines weren’t terrible—I had thought they would be worse from what everyone had told us. It was just a germaphobe’s nightmare, though. I was very thankful to have remembered to bring hand sanitizer… and once other people found out I had it, I was a VERY popular girl!

The start of the race was at 6:30am. We all lined up with 24,000 of our closest friends. It took us 13 minutes to get from our corral to the starting line! A very weird feeling: You sort of inch along and all of a sudden, you pass the starting mat and it’s like “okay here we go”! Dan gave me a kiss as we started, and he walked with me for a couple of minutes. Then I sent him to catch up with his walking partner, Karen. As I began to walk, I noticed my left hip began to pinch. With every step, it felt like a nerve-shock or something. It was more annoying than anything else at that point, but it made me really nervous to think about what it would feel like at mile 10! It had been bothering me since we arrived in San Diego. I just assumed it was just the way I was sitting on the plane or something. I had stretched that hip really well before the start, because I was worried about it, but by ½ mile it was clear that I was going to have a problem with it.

At the first mile marker, I saw my coaches Jerry and Linda. Linda put my cell phone # in her phone, just in case I needed anything. Jerry told me he would meet me between miles 7&9 and that he would walk me to the finish line! I was still pretty excited at this point. I thought I was doing well. My hip was really bothering me, but I knew if I just kept going, I would start to feel better. I usually have a tough first 2 miles and then feel really good. Just before the 2nd mile marker, I heard a voice behind me. “Are you doing the half or the full?” I turned around, thinking it was maybe another TNT member who needed a walking buddy. I saw a woman with a TNT singlet and a witch’s hat on her head. She was the Sweeper!!!!!!!!!! (insert foreboding music here)

In a marathon, there are several “pacers”. They run or walk at a certain pace, so that if people are looking to finish in a particular time, they can keep track of their pace. The “sweeper” is the slowest pace walker. She’s the one that makes you get on the bus if you aren’t keeping up with the slowest pace. She was very nice to me, I have to say that. She introduced herself and just said that she was the sweeper and that my whole goal for the day should be to keep ahead of her. Okay, I thought, now I’m screwed! You know you’re in trouble when the freakin’ sweeper INTRODUCES herself to you! At that point, all sorts of self doubt flashed through my head. Now I’m going to have to call my coaches and tell them that I couldn’t finish. I’m going to have to tell everyone at work that I failed. I’m going to have to call everyone that made donations and apologize! But then I thought, well she isn’t sweeping me right NOW so I might as well keep going.

So I took a deep breath, put in my ipod, and found my stride. I felt really good from about 2.5 miles all the way to about 6.5 miles. My hip had stopped hurting, my foot wasn’t bothering me at all, I was actually having FUN! I cheered along with the local cheerleaders, I snapped my fingers to the local bands, I winked at the handsome marine that called me “ma’am” (heehee). I had long conversations with God. I rewrote the essay for my PhD application in my head. I designed the window treatments for my parents office. I sent good thoughts to Dan, and hoped he was thinking of me too. I walked all along downtown San Diego with thousands of other people in purple singlets, and never saw “the Sweeper” again! And I finally learned what endorphins and “runner’s high” are. I have never felt the way that I did for those 4 miles!

At mile 4, in the midst of my euphoria, I saw Robyn (our season coordinator) and Renee (the NJ season coordinator). They were standing by the side of the road, taking pictures and ringing cowbells! It was so good to see them! The weirdest and most wonderful thing, though, was that there were staff and coaches from all over the country along the course. And, since we had our names written on our singlets, people would call out your name: Looking good, Sara! Keep it up, Sara! Relax your shoulders and keep your hands up, Sara! At one point, a group of cheerleaders started with “Gimme an S. Gimme an A. Gimme an R. Gimme an A. GO SARA!” It was awesome. All along the road, there were spectators. People were out on their balconies in some of the high rise apartments, and would wave and yell to us! People had signs and noisemakers. Everywhere I looked there was purple and green, and someone yelling “GO TEAM”!

At mile 6, the pain came back to my hip. Again, it was just sort of annoying at first, but after another ½ mile, it was really painful. I took a quick port-o-potty break (there was NO line!) But when I came back onto the course 5 minutes later, I could feel my pace slipping. I must have had a grimace on my face, because a spectator from the sidewalk came out into the street. She had tears running down her face. I took out my headphones and she said, “I’m a survivor. Thank you for doing this. If I can do chemo, you can do this! Keep going!” I began to cry too, and not from the pain in my hip. So I plodded along, walking for a woman whose name I didn’t even know.

At mile 7, the course changed. We had been walking all through downtown San Diego: in neighborhoods that we had toured during our scavenger hunt, near the harbor and our hotel, near the convention center that had the expo. Now it turned into a highway. So for the next 4 miles, we walked uphill on a slant to the left. There were no spectators, few bands. Just us, the pavement, and the very hot San Diego sun that decided to come out from the clouds just as I started on the entrance ramp. I went from an absolute high to an absolute low in about a mile. With every step, the pain in my hip got worse and worse. Since the road was sloped to the left, much of the strain from walking was on the left side, and I think this made things even worse. Again, the self doubt took hold. I tried to just listen to my music, and get back in the groove, but I had really lost it. I tried to enjoy the scenery of the California hills in the distance, but all I do was feel the red hot pain in my hip. I considered waiting for the van and just riding it to the finish. I knew Jerry was going to meet me somewhere soon, so I held on. Every little hill I got to the top of, I would look down for Jerry. Step, step, step. No Jerry. Step, step, step. No Jerry. Step, step, step. No Jerry. I actually thought maybe he had given up on waiting for me because I was too slow. I am ashamed to admit that now, because I know he never would have left me out there alone. It seemed like forever, but at mile 8.5, I saw him down the hill. He waved, and I burst into tears.

I composed myself quickly, though. It was just good to have a familiar person to be there. He offered to stretch out my hip, but I really was afraid that if I stopped walking, I would never restart. So we kept going. Along the route, we picked up LeeAnn, one of the coaches from Lehigh Valley. She was so great to me! She talked about all sorts of random stuff to keep me occupied. We talked (well, she talked, and I tried not to cry) about Pirates of the Caribbean, triathalons, and what we wanted to eat after the race. At one point, around mile 10, I asked them both: “What if I can’t do this? What if I let everyone down?” Jerry looked me straight in the eyes and said “You can do this. And you will do this. I believe in you.” I told you he was a great guy.

When we got to mile 11, the highway ended and we turned back into the city streets. It was so much better. I kept saying “I can do 2 miles. 2 miles is nothing. I did more in my very first practice!” When we turned the corner off the highway ramp, there was a man standing there with a sign that said “THANK YOU TEAM IN TRAINING FROM A 10 YEAR LEUKEMIA SURVIVOR!” He gave us all a high-five as we walked by. Those little moments, like the woman at mile 6ish, helped me to remember the real reason I was walking. I walked for so many people, some close to me, some complete strangers. It was really an empowering feeling. At mile 12, Jerry remarked “Wow! You’re turning up the speed now! It’s because we’re so close to the finish!” And I said, “We are? Please don’t b***sh** me right now, Jerry, I can’t deal with it!” We all had a good laugh at that one (I guess I had hit the “bite me” phase of the marathon. We’d heard about this from John Bingham, the Penguin. He said that no matter how much you love your running partner, you get to a point where you physically can’t stand the words coming out of their mouths!)

And then the moment came… off in the distance, I could see the finish line. I could see purple, green, and white balloons everywhere. I heard cowbells and cheers. I passed the 13 mile mark. Only .1 miles to go! I could see my other coach, Linda running toward us from the finish line. Just past her, I saw my entire ½ mile walk team, the coordinators, and hundreds of other participants and coaches waiting for me. They were all yelling my name. Guess what I did then? Yup, I started to cry again. I am tearing up just remembering the moment. I couldn’t believe that my team had all waited for me! It meant so much to me to feel their support, pride and love. It was truly one of the most wonderful moments of my life. Through my tears, I tried to thank LeeAnn, Linda, and especially Jerry. But I couldn’t find the words. LeeAnn kept saying “Don’t thank us now, you want to look good for your picture!” I ran the rest of the way in, and collapsed into the group hug. Everyone was crying and cheering! I am not 110% sure of my time, though. I finished after they pulled up the chip mats. Robyn said she looked at the clock and it was 04:17:37. If you subtract the 13 minutes it took me to get to the starting line, that makes my unofficial official time 04:04:37! Not too shabby!

I don’t really remember the next few minutes. I was so numb! I hugged Jerry, and thanked him from the bottom of my heart (still crying of course). I thought, though I am sure he’ll never admit to it, that I saw a little tear in his eyes too. My mentor, Cheryl, took me over to get my time chip taken off my shoe, and we checked in at the desk. Turns out that they ran out of medals because too many people who said they were finishing the full ended up just doing the half. My disappointment must have shown, because Cheryl gave me her medal. She told me how proud of me she was, and that I deserved to wear the medal! Thanks Cheryl, that really meant a lot to me!

I called my dad and my friend Lisa right away. I also called Faith and Chris! I told Faith to tell Chris I had just walked 13 miles—one mile for every lumbar puncture he had to undergo. Then Cheryl and I stood in line for the bus that would take us to the main finish line. While we were waiting, we cheered other TNT members crossing the finish line. It was great for me to be part of someone else’s fantastic finishing moment. We finally got on the bus, and who do I see? The Sweeper! I smiled at her and said “Oh my God, you’re the sweeper. I met you at mile 2 and you scared me enough to start walking faster!” She laughed and replied, “Why do you think I wear the witch’s hat?”

Cheryl and I stood on the bleachers and watched the rest of our team come in. We saw Dan finish! It was wonderful— and surprise, I cried again! I was so happy to have my nice comfy crocs to change into! Dan and I went to the TNT tent and had the most wonderful peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I ever tasted! I am sure they were nothing special, but peanut butter has never smelled so good! They had all sorts of stuff for TNT members—food, water, Gatorade, even a kiddie pool with ice water for our feet. We piled on the bus and went back to the hotel to shower. Then we went to the victory party with our team, and then out to a dueling piano bar called the Shouthouse. But that’s another story for another day…

I hope this long awaited update lives up to your expectations. I still have trouble putting it all down in words. What I’ll say is this: Aside from the day that Dan and I got married, it was the best day of my entire life. I can’t wait to do it again!

Pictures to come (once I figure out how to set up a flickr slide show or something..)
-Sara, aka Marathon Girl