Finally… a marathon RACE RECAP! Fasten your seatbelts folks, it’s gonna be a long one.

I headed down to Monterey for BSIM on Saturday from SF, and headed right to the race expo. This was the first real expo I’d been to… ever. I allowed myself my requisite “it’s my first marathon and I want a sweatshirt” spending spree and came back with a few other goodies as well. Including unlimited FREE BANANAS. And pretty awesome free posters: “Hell and Back: 26.2 miles.” Amen.

I got to meet Bart Yasso, hear him speak and tell stories, and listened to Jeff Galloway preach the heck out of the run-walk. I figured I’d try it out on some of the hills tomorrow. It was really fun to meet lots of runners and just totally soak in the excitement of the expo and the race that was to come. I was getting pretty keyed up and excited to run the darn race already.

After wandering Monterey’s waterfront for a little, I was so ready to eat. Despite preaching the values of good pre-race nutrition, I’d had a protein bar and a banana for breakfast, and a clif bar and a banana for lunch. Plus half another banana. I literally bought a boring bread roll while out at Fisherman’s Wharf. Yay for carbs! I felt like I was nervous eating the whole week before the race, too. Literally every aspect of my life seemed to be affected by this race.

That night, I went to the pasta party which wasn’t the omg-everyone’s-so-excited event that I expected, but it was good, healthy food. I had never even been to a marathon before, so I wanted to experience some of the “traditions” along the way, too.

I met someone in line who told me I was crazy for doing BSIM for my first marathon. It was funny. When people found out that myself or others were running their first 26.2 at BSIM, it was usually an eyebrow raised, “niiiice… good for you!” (thinking: that person has NO IDEA what is going to happen to them tomorrow). Some people were more blunt: “WHY would you sign up for Big Sur FIRST? It’s the HARDEST! Do you know what you’re getting into?”

Thanks for the encouragement, everybody.

A word on the course: BSIM is notoriously tough. It’s famous for a 2.2 mile climb up Hurricane Point, a grueling 4.5%+ grade. (To put it in perspective: Boston’s Heartbreak Hill is the same grade… for 0.37 of a mile). With the course change this year, we lost Hurricane Point at mile 10, but we got the second half, “with over 13 major hills alone.” And we got to run it twice. Both ways. The total feet climbed went from 1,700 to 2,400+.

Awesome. Bring it on.

It was good though, to embrace the “it’s your first, just enjoy it and finish” mentality. Regarding time: if I had run a flat course, my goal time would have been 4:45. My “dream” secret goal would have been 4:30 (aka I never would have told anyone that was my goal). But BSIM tells you to add 20+ minutes to your expected marathon time, more if you’re a newb. So my goal was to finish, but my realistic time was about 5 hours 15 minutes. I had the pace band to prove it and fell asleep fitfully waking up every 15 minutes convinced it was time to run.

Finally a few short hours later it was RACE DAY!

I thought I scored with a “late” bus ticket but then I realized the difference was 15 minutes (I get to come at 4:15AM instead of 4:00!) so my excitement dimmed. I got dropped off in downtown Monterey, said goodbye to my parents (my dad then took my mom down to Carmel to get her own bus) and hopped onto the school bus.

I ate my peanut butter and banana sandwich in silence, thinking about what lay ahead. After getting dropped at the staging area, my only reaction was: IT’S COLD. And the race starts more than TWO HOURS from now. Super pathetic. (Apparently the Safeway nearby was open 24 hours and a ton of runners hung out there for warmth. Still bummed I missed THAT memo.)

The lovely volunteers had hot water (with tea and cocoa packets), coffee, bread, bananas, and a lot of other goodies available to us. I didn’t need food, but I clutched onto my cup of hot water like there was no tomorrow. It was FREEZING. I came prepared with my sweats bag and a variety of clothing options, and before long I was wearing, over my tank top and capris, sweatpants, a running fleece, a zip up hoodie, a thick scarf, and ANOTHER sweatshirt over that. Ridiculous. At 5:15AM I went back for a second cup and was told the water was gone! I prayed to not die of hypothermia before the 6:45 start.

[all race photos from marathonfoto.com--tell me which ones you like, I'm buying them!]

Around 6 they started moving us over to the start line. Moving in a tight pack of people was awesome (can you say body heat?) and we all felt a bit better. I relinquished my sweats bag, but remained wearing my running fleece AND my windproof/waterproof jacket… with my circulation (I am often freezing) it was a better-safe-than-sorry call.

I lined up with my new friend, Kim, about midway through corral B (4:00 to 4:30 marathoners). This is when I started to feel a wee bit guilty as I was in no way intending to run a 4:30 marathon. (Yes, I was one of THOSE people). Honestly, my ‘tude was that I needed every minute of the 6:30 available to me so better gun out ahead.

Before I knew it, my headphones were in, and corral A was off. Three minutes later, it was go time. I couldn’t believe it. I was running my first marathon! Okay, I was jogging pretty much in place trying to get onto the road to start running, but that’s besides the point.

The first two miles we had the whole road (all two lanes of it)—it was still pretty crowded but people were pacing themselves slow. And pretty much the first thing we did was run up a hill.

Welcome to the Big Sur International Marathon.

I felt like I was running pretty slow, but then I realized I was right in time with the 4:15 pace group. This struck a bit of fear into my heart (as I glance down at my 5:00 pace band) as all the marathon horror stories involve coming out too strong. “It took me as much time to run the last 8 as the first 18.” “He started at 6:30s, I started at 9:30s, I beat him.” Etc. This wasn’t what I wanted. But it felt like a really manageable pace and the leader was fun and chatty and would totally slow the group down going up the hills, so I stuck around.

She told us that we needed to use 50% of our energy for the first 20 miles, and the other 50% for the last 6.2. To run the first 10 with your head, the second 10 with your legs, and the last 6.2 with your heart. I liked that. The course was full of music and entertainment, which made it fly by even faster.

I didn’t take pictures because I didn’t want to stop running and I didn’t want my iPhone to die before I finished (I was using it for music and GPS). In fact, I was so nervous of having to crawl the last few miles without music that I carried an “emergency” iPod shuffle in my pocket loaded with my marathon playlist! Ridiculous. But I just kept thinking, “I’m gonna regret this when I do my race recap…” truth. Luckily my mom took a few on her run that I can share

Before I knew it, 8 miles had passed. We were running up and down some relentless hills but I was so keyed up and energetic I didn’t even notice. I don’t think I even really touched my water bottle or opened a GU in those first 8. When I realized I was a third of the way done and hadn’t taken in any fuel, I sucked down a GU and some water and Gatorade between miles 8-9. I fell a tiny bit behind the pace group around mile 10 when the pacer went to the bathroom and those left in charge seemed to get a little excited, but I didn’t mind. I could still see them and besides, my goal was to finish.

The aid stations were awesome. There were SIXTEEN I think—and there were cute marines standing around at most of them, tons of friendly volunteers, bunch of portapotties, water and Gatorade, sometimes gu and fruit, and they’d fill my water bottle for me from pitchers! Definitely the best organized race… ever.

I kept looking for my mom, who should have passed me at some point in the middle of my first half. I strained my eyes looking for her, but somehow we missed each other. It was final when I passed the Rocky Point Restaurant, the start of her 10.6 miler, and hadn’t seen her. (Hey, part of me thought maybe she’d wait around and run the 10.6 with me!) But at this point, I started getting even more excited than I already was. Because I knew in 20 or so minutes, at the turnaround at mile 12.3, I would see two of my coworkers/friends who were camping in Big Sur that weekend. The thought of seeing a familiar face (there aren’t really spectators on the course for this marathon) propelled me up… and up… and up several more hills in those last two miles. When I saw them I shrieked for joy (it was even more exciting than the fact that I was turning around and heading for home). One of them told me I looked “euphoric.” He was right. I couldn’t tell you what really happened those first two hours, but I knew I was having some of the most fun I had EVER HAD. It was inexplicable.

I could see Bixby Bridge from the turnaround—the most famous part of the normal course and it made me a little sad to not be crossing it, but I could always run the marathon again when the road was intact. I continued on and got ready for round 2 of the leg-shredding hills. I could really enjoy the views more coming back—they were scenic heading south, but even more fun heading north. I think I paced about 2:11 for the first half. I could see the 4:15 group, but at this point I started getting really worried about burnout. Mile #13 seemed to take forever, and on mile 14 I started getting some sharp pains in my right hip that worried me. I slowed it down a little. Took another GU at mile 14. And pretty soon the aid stations started handing out fruit, and a couple of orange slices really did the trick.

The next couple of miles floated by, and then on a steep uphill at 15.75 miles, I decided to take a walk break. Galloway had convinced me. And knowing how crazy the hills were coming back, I knew I couldn’t expect to just run til I died. So I started walking a minute or so whenever I felt like it, which wasn’t often. Never on the downhills. Or the flat. The downhills weren’t as rough as I thought on the knees, so I got really happy when they came up.

I thought a few walk breaks would slow me down considerably, but at mile 18 I was under 3 hours—less than 10 minutes per mile! I had planned to run 11s WITHOUT hills, so this was pretty exciting! With only 8.2 to go I knew that I was going to finish the race and I was going to finish in under 4:30. I whooped for joy, pretty sure.

Miles 18-22 were fine. No wall to speak of. I’d walk up some of the most brutal hills, simply unwilling to push myself to the point of no return, and starting to run again (that first stride…) got harder and harder, but never did I feel like I couldn’t run anymore. The pianist (and views!) at mile 19 were great.

I got nervous around mile 20 expecting to all of a sudden want to die but I was fine—well, as fine as anyone who has just run 20 miles up and down and up and down could be! Then on mile 21, some of the Carmel Highlands residents (population 822) passed out fresh-cut strawberries, which I think was a gift from God above. I felt like I was in heaven.

I think the first time I got angry was turning into Point Lobos reserve. Basically, with the out and back course, there wasn’t QUITE enough road so we had a slightly less than 2 mile detour into this reserve. Which was absolutely beautiful.

I didn’t care.

I had had 22 miles of beautiful already, and turning into the reserve, I could see the “2” mile marker. Meaning I was 2.2 miles from the finish line, but had to take a little detour first. And it was hilly. OMG it was hilly. I don’t know if it was any worse than the rest, but it was here that my legs started protesting. I just felt like I had no energy left to give. I’d only had three GUs and a part of a bottle of Gatorade—less than 450 calories—and I’d burned probably 2,300+ at this point (not counting the hills… crap) so there was no gas in the engine. When I passed the 23 mile marker I didn’t think about my new PDR. I just thought about getting out of that damn reserve.

Sooner rather than later I was on mile 24. My 23.6 split has been sub-4, and if I had lit a fire under my ass to finish strong, I could have hit 4:19. Maybe with some proper fueling. But no. after walking a little, I was at mile 24 at 4:02. Instead of thinking “hey, only 2.2 miles to go!” I thought “Holy crap, I have 28 minutes to finish in under 4:30, SWEET.” And proceeded to do 12 minute miles for miles 25 and 26. : )

This is how I knew I didn’t fuel properly. My training was ON. I was strong enough for the race. My muscles were whining, but they didn’t hurt. I never wanted to stop. I wanted to run. But I simply had no energy left to move. I started getting a little lightheaded. I walked a good part of the huge hill at 25, ran down the next hill, and even walked for about a minute at the mile 26 marker. YES, I WALKED AT THE MILE 26 MARKER. See, I’m the most competitive person EVER, so this is how I knew I wasn’t completely lucid at this point. But I knew I’d hit my goal with flying colors. I started to run down the hill to the finish.

My finishing time was 4:27:51. I smashed my “realistic goal” by 47 minutes and my “dream goal” by two on a tough course. I was so happy!

Pretty much as soon as I walked into Marathon Village, I lost it. My mom ran up to greet me and my dad was not far behind. I got my food box and I couldn’t eat anything. I wanted to melt into the ground! I walked over and found some dirt and stretched out. I kind of felt like I would never walk again. But kind of in a good way.

After what felt like an hour of sitting on the floor, I finally regained some strength and ate the peanut butter cookie out of my box. Then all I wanted was a beer. I sent mom to get beers while I pulled off my nasty clothes and changed into stuff from the sweat bag. Sweet success!

I couldn’t stop smiling despite the pain in my legs, that all seemed to hit right AFTER crossing the finish line (yay for adrenaline suppressing the hurt!).

I can honestly say that I have NEVER been more proud of myself in my life. I registered for this race last July. I never thought I could do it. It seemed impossible. People run marathons all the time, but I didn’t think it would ever be me. Some people finished hours ahead of me. It doesn’t matter. I was equally proud if not more so. I wanted to jump up and down (even though that would have been physically impossible).

Big Sur taught me so much, more than I could ever contain in one already-4-pages-before-pictures blog post. I wish I could just express how emotional I am about this race even here two days later.

Marathon training taught me that no goal is too big.

It taught me that nothing is impossible.

It taught me that hard work and sacrifices DO pay off.

It taught me that one person’s molehill may be another’s mountain, and that’s okay.

It taught me that food is FUEL and should be used as a gift to nourish and strengthen your body, not a weapon to be wielded.

It taught me that I am strong, I am capable.

It taught me that when you step up to the starting line of a marathon, you’ve done everything you can do to prepare. It’s not about the race—it’s about validating what you did to get there.

It taught me that no matter what I say, no matter what I claim, no matter how slow I waddle, that I sell myself short, but no longer. I am a RUNNER, and I am stronger than I think.

I may not be fast,

I may not be furious,

I may not be anything special,

But I did something special to ME, and this was the biggest gift that Big Sur ever could have given me.

I’m finally in the club. See you next year.

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