Move Along

Well.  I don't think I'll be doing THAT again anytime soon.  Or possibly ever. 

Everything seemed so promising.  My day of "Felicity" viewing was fantastically restful -- almost too restful, in a way, except GOD, I love that show; so plowing through a season and a half of Ben and Noel (while eating gummy bears) was about as good as it can get, as far as I'm concerned.  Seriously.  The dialogue?  The awkward moments?  Noel's sensous lips and Ben's alluring little grin?  I could die.  DIE.  Because I am SO Felicity, and she is me, except she had the cojones to break up with Ben when he couldn't give her what she needed. 

Oh, right.  The marathon.

So, yeah.  The expo:  whatever.  No big deal.  Except on the way there, I passed a massive line about a block long of thousands of hipsters waiting to get into the Decemberists' concert -- is there like some law that guys have to wear fedoras to Decemberists' concerts?  I kid you not, every guy in the line was wearing a black felt fedora at a jaunty angle.  And when I was coming back from the expo, toting my little bag of free jam (?) and Snickers Marathon bars and also THE TASTIEST THING EVER, which is this new berry/nut snack mix by Emerald Nuts -- good LORD, I must purchase some immediately -- I saw Elijah Wood in a black felt fedora going into the stage door at the concert.  Random.

Got up early, blah blah, buses to Staten Island, blah.  Cycled through the Port-a-Potty lines a couple of times, ran into a dude I went to college with and haven't seen in more than ten years, blah, lined up in the corrals.  And the whole "female-only, just behind the sub-elite women" starting lineup?  Totally bogus.  Everyone and their brother -- yes, brother, for no one official even glanced at the supposedly all-women corral, let alone kept the men out -- smushed in there, and then we headed to the bridge and the race started.  Hmph. 

I felt amazing, super strong and pumped.  On the bridge, I wanted to fling my arms wide and yell, "New York, I will never leave you!" as we ran those first two miles with the Manhattan skyline in the distance and "New York, New York" blasted over the speakers.  I was moving at a great pace; my legs felt strong, my lungs and heart felt strong.  STRONG!  I was on pace for about a 4:10 finish time for the first 12 miles of the race. 

(And. by the way, my good vibes/prayers?  Did y'all feel them?  I felt yours!  Until...)

Between miles 12 and 13, a sharp, crippling pain shot from my right ankle up my leg.  I've never had problems with my ankles in the slightest, and nothing happened to precipitate it.  I literally hobbled for a good mile until the next medic station, where I pulled aside and loosened my shoe and took a Tylenol, then limped on.  The pain was unreal.  Stabbing and unrelenting.  Based on what I remember from dancing, it felt like a stress fracture (I got them in my toes one Nutcracker season). 

At the next medical tent, I couldn't take it and approached one of the trainers for help.  He sat me down and looked at it and said that it was up to me whether I should continue; he could tape it up, but he didn't think that would help.  He thought it was a stress fracture.  I had him wrap it, figuring at least it would give me a little support, and I asked if something horrid would happen if I continued running on it (mostly because, at that same point in the race last year, my friend was running and a stress fracture in his hip snapped (he didn't realize it was there), and his femur ended up in a most inconvenient and uncomfortable place outside of his pelvis, which:  OW).  The guy said no, but it would be painful. 

I hobbled off again, barely able to put weight on my foot.  I figured I would stop at a medical tent in Manhattan and drop out of the race.  I just couldn't stand the pain.  I made it across the 59th Street Bridge and onto First Avenue, and when I saw a medical tent...I kept going.  I figured if I dropped out, I would have to walk home anyway, so why not just keep running?  I'd made it 16 miles, and maybe the pain would lessen as I went.  Plus, I knew my mom would be tracking my progress online and would get worried if she saw I'd stopped hitting the milestone markers.  And, of course, I knew I'd be disappointed in myself for not finishing.

So I kept running.  This time, I avoided the Gatorade and the gels and stuck to water, and I brought a pouch of gummy bears and used those to give me a boost when I needed it, so I felt a thousand times better than last year with that crippling nausea.  This time -- oh, just a stress fracture.  It took the stubborn, determined will of every cell in my body to keep going.  I kept thinking how it wouldn't be that hard for me to stroll right off the course and go home, where I could ice my foot and stop the pain.  But I just. kept. running.  (Must have been all y'all's positive thoughts being sent my way!) 

When I got to mile 18, I told myself that I only had two miles to go til 20, and then just 6.2, and how hard was that, really?  I felt strong except for my ankle feeling like it might shatter at any second.  I focused on a spot 15 feet ahead of me and gritted my teeth and blocked out everything else.  I ran right past my husband, the poor man, after he'd waited for over an hour (although not at a place we'd agreed upon, so I didn't know where to look) -- but it's a good thing I did, because if I had seen him, I might have collapsed in his arms and begged him to carry me home.

When I was in Central Park and knew I was home free (although I remain convinced that the last 6.2 miles of the race are, in actuality, 25 miles -- they just GO ON and ON), I started to tear up because I was so damn proud for having pushed myself so hard.  "Unconditional" by The Bravery came on my iPod and I started jamming to it while I ran.  I picked up my pace.  I was still WAY behind the time I wanted, but I ran strong for the last three miles, through the park and across Central Park South.  I didn't hear or see the crowds; I just saw that spot 15 feet ahead of me and listened to my music (without that iPod -- and GG's song suggestions -- I wouldn't have made it, that's for damn sure) and pushed on.  And then it was 500 meters left, then 200, 100, and I got the victorious, arms-up finish (but not the victorious time) that I hadn't been able to manage last year. 

Now that I've showered and put my feet up and crammed a juicy burger, fries and some mozzarella sticks (!) down my throat, I feel pretty good.  My foot hurts, but I'll avoid heels and not run for a week and hopefully it'll be fine. 

But, seriously.  Although the beginning and end were fun, the middle, oh, 20 miles, kind of blew, and I feel like I've proven myself now -- twice over, to show the one time wasn't a fluke -- and maybe I can let myself focus on running faster in shorter races from now on.  Getting competitive with half marathons or 10ks or something.  Or, you know, cross-stitching or crocheting.

Although....you know, I do get an automatic entry into next year's marathon since I ran nine New York Road Runners races this year, and it would be a shame to let it go to waste...

Comments

[Jen W.]

I was going to email you and ask how it went! I cannot believe what happened. That sucks so bad. I can't believe even more that you finished. You are a hoss. (That's a compliment, I swear). Congratulations.

[jonniker]

WHOO HOO! I have held off on my stalkery emails, for I imagined you asleep, or at least eating fried cheese (happy to see that!) but I watched it today trying to find you! They focused on a slender red-headed woman and I was CONVINCED for a little while that she was you, until they focused tighter on her face and...not so much. But oh, there was cheering! CHEERING! FOR YOU.

You are my hero. Honestly. That experience is nothing short of amazing, and my god, if you downplay this accomplishment, I will pour blazing hot coffee directly into your lap on Saturday morning and won't apologize.

You freaking rule.

[Laura B.]

Holy sheet. I cannot believe that you ran over half the race with a stress fracture! You are my hero for running a marathon AT ALL (twice!), but doing it injured? You rock. And you are also crazy.

[Martha]

You are seriously amazing. When I'm bitching to myself over the next two weeks about my psyllium husk and whey protein diet, I swear to God, I'm going to think of you as inspiration.

[-R-]

Congratulations on finishing! I am so happy for you!

[terriwc]

Am I a proud mama or what! That's my girl and she is tough. Dancing with blistered, bleeding feet and now running with a stress fracture. She is determined, for sure.

[guinness girl]

YOU ROCK. WOOOOOHOOOOOO! I'm amazed and verklempt.

[orangepeacock]

All I can think of to say is, DAMN, girl. You rock. Congratulations!

[CPA Mom]

I concur with all the above. You ran a MARATHON with a stress fracture?!?! You should be on that show HEROES because Damn, Woman, YOU ARE MY HERO. I got a stress fracture once and I cried and whimpered and SAT ON MY ASS for two weeks. You RAN! Go forth and eat pumpkin. You deserve it.

[Allison]

You are, quite possibly, crazy. But I still think you rule. David would so have done the same thing.

[Lacey]

You are so awesome! I ran cross-country in high school but quit running after I graduated. I just couldn't make myself run without the support of people to run with. Plus, I could never do more than 8 miles very slowly, but I always wanted to, so you rock for doing a whole flippin' marathon!

[jes]

I'm so very, very proud of you. And in awe.

And feeling a little guilty for all that ice cream I ate this weekend. And for the fact that I just laid in bed this morning instead of going to the gym.

[Vicki]

Good for you. no.. backspacing again... terrific.. no not good enough... FANTASTIC.. no. I feel like Charolette on Charolettes Web. Tdouble Rdouble Idouble
Fdouble
Idouble CCC!!!

Duration pays off. Congrats!!!!

[Leah]

Hot damn. You are the wind beneath my wings. I watched the tv coverage of the race and thought of you (and looked for you!) and sent tons of good vibes from my comfy nest on the couch. You are a better woman than I, that much is true.

[Jurgen Nation]

You ROCK, woman. Congratulations. I have always wanted to run a marathon.

Also? From the Things I Will Probably Never Say in my Life Files: "Between miles 12 and 13.."

Because...yeah.

[lawyerish]

Jen - Hoss! Now that's a new one. I'll take it as intended, as a compliment. :)

Jonna - Ok, yeah. I will not downplay it what with the threat of second-degree burns and all.

Laura - Yes, crazy. Definitely.

Martha - What you're facing would be much harder for me. But whatever helps, man! "Psyllium husk" is really fun to say, though.

R - Thanks! And thanks for all your well wishes!

Mom - Only a mom comes up with "determined" when everyone else is saying "insane." :)

GG - Your music? SO KEY.

OP - Aw, shucks. All the support really helped!!

CPA Mom - I am plotting the current pumpkin infusion, indeed.

Allison - Oh, David is much crazier than I am.

Lacey - I'm slow on distance runs, too. I could see how a team would make it much easier on the whole!

Jes - Bah! Don't feel guilty. Not everyone needs to be out pounding the pavement for hours on end all the time. Including me!

Vicki - Aw. Charlotte's Web always made me cry!

Leah - Sadly, I did not TiVo the TV coverage, which annoys me, because I'd like to see if even a blur of my elbow appeared in it. Oh, well. And no, not a better woman at all!

Stacy - If you want to, you can. I wasn't really a runner before I started training for last year's marathon. It's doable, just takes a ton of time. Really, a LOT of time. And running.

[amy jami]

this is just so amazing. i could NEVER dream of doing this. congrats!!!