Marathon Day

The alarm went off at 3am my time and I felt like someone had whacked me in the head.  My eyes were stinging.  My head was throbbing.  I wanted to go back to sleep.  Or cry.

Cutest Jill was already getting ready.  She is too pretty for words.  As I put on my uniform I got really pumped up.  There is something official about pinning that number on.  Its like, you can't turn back now!  You are doing it!  Ha!  I had a good breakfast.  I ate granola, a banana and drank some water.  I grabbed my four GU's.  I put on 2 jackets, pants, gloves and felt boiling hot.  Especially after we headed outside.  It was not cold.  We drove to the buses in Jills car (Mustang convertible).  My eyes were still burning.

Getting on the bus was mayhem.  100's of runners crowding everywhere.  The ride was long and dark.  I continued to feel like pure crap!  I was thinking, OMGoodness--I don't feel like running today!  S*%$#!

Jill and I at the starting line

When we stepped out onto the starting pad, oh the things we saw and heard and felt...1,000's of runners everywhere!   Many were huddling together for pictures, talking, messing with their outfits, standing in line for the port-o-potty's.  Many more were cuddling under silver and white emergency blankets that volunteers were handing out.  No one was dressed for arctic winds like me.  It was fairly warm--not good!  Cold is better.  I kept thinking, crap, it's going to be hot at the end.  I better run fast to get it over with so I'm not running during the hottest part of the day.  I drank a bit of Gatorade and ate a caffeine GU.

The funniest thing about the starting line is the potty situation.  Not everyone cares to go in private.  I think of it like camping.  Everyone finds their own tree or bush.  The problem happens when you have no trees or bushes.  Sometimes it doesn't turn out to be so hidden.  Fact is, you see random people squatting, some butts and some fire hoses.  No one cares.  All we runners care about is going before the race.  One of the worst things that can happen in a race is to have to go to the bathroom.  In other words, no runner wants to poop during a race.  Runners go to great lengths to make sure this happens before they start running.  It was one of Jill's main concerns that she talked non-stop about for 2 days.  So Jill and I found our trees and bushes.  But it was like a community experience.  There were people all around us and I'm sure our butts were enjoyed.  All I know is I never look up.  I don't want to ever recognize anyone who has seen my butt.

After we both had our last bathroom break, we laid down on our emergency blanket to stretch and for me to take off my layers.  One last desperate attempt to feel good.  It did feel pretty good to stretch.  I was starting to feel better.  I was lucky to see my friend Monique.  I ran with Mo and Miko for months.  Monique is an excellent runner and I couldn't even keep up with her 9 months ago.  But finally I was running her pace and have stuck by her for the past 5 months or so.  She has qualified for Boston already.  I remember Carrie telling me to just keep up with Mo and stay there!  I lost Mo as she headed into the trees.  After stretching, Jill and I took our plastic bags full of our extra clothes to the drop off point.  I hadn't even tied my string when HOOOOOONK!!!!!  The horn blew.  The race started.  Jill and I weren't with our pacer...UGH!

The huge crowd started to move like cattle and I started to lose Jill.  It was mayhem once again.  I saw my 3:45 pacer and motioned to Jill to follow him.  I kept his red balloons in my sight and felt the comfort of a guarantee of hitting my goal to qualify for Boston.  My goal was to stick to this guy like I always stuck with Mo.  I wasn't going to let anything get in my way of staying with those red balloons.  As I kept him in my sights, the crowd seemed to swallow Jill.  The only thing that I could keep in my sights were those red balloons.

 As I crossed the starting line it was cool and dark.  I could taste the excitement in the air.  The energy was tangible.  Even my bones were tingling!  I flipped on my little green ishuffle.  Music is a huge motivator for me.  Turning on my ipod is like taking the first step into a party--it's like, PARTAY!!!  LET"S ROCK IT!!!  I couldn't help but grin as I saw the blanket of runners in front of me bobbing up and down.  We were all way too close for comfort.  It was shoulder-to-shoulder crowded.  I sometimes had to squeeze through people sideways to keep up with the pacer.  I had on my throwaway gloves and light jacket.  For the first few miles I was feeling pretty good about myself.  I felt no pain.  My headache was finally gone.  I relaxed into the pace and my movement started to flow.  My gloves and jacket came off at mile 2.  I threw them off to the side at the mile marker.  Man did I feel good.  I was feeling strong.  Enjoying the sunrise.  Basking in the pride of being able to easily keep up with the pacer.  Hopeful and confident.  Enjoying every minute.  I was so pumped as I saw Veyo in the distance.  I was having such a great time and felt that runner's high that makes you feel like you could run forever with very little effort. Like I had energy to spare.  So yeah, I attacked the hill at mile 7 with naive overconfidence, thinking--how hard can it be?  I've run hills before!

Lovin' it before the hill at Veyo

At mile 7, the climbing begins in the St. George marathon, then you keep going uphill to mile 8, up up up to mile 9, and uh yeah more uphill to mile 10 then up a little more to mile 11, my legs were burning by mile 12, and by mile 13 I was begging for mercy.   The hill climbing does not let up until mile 14 where you can enjoy a nice mile long downhill with exhausted legs.  So basically Veyo chewed me up.  The hill seemed to go on for an eternity.  It is pretty steep at about a 7% grade.  I felt like I was running straight up.  I tried so hard to stay with my pacer.  Little by little he got ahead of me.  I was struggling to hold the pace. At this point I was a little frustrated because I realized that he was running HIS race.  He would speed up and slow down as his body allowed.  I kept trying to catch up and I kept getting farther and farther behind.  I felt ok as long as I could see the balloons.  But I wasn't getting closer to him.  Not even on the downhill.  He really took off once the hills were done.  Every time I stopped at a water station I watched as the balloons inched further and further from my sight.  I remember distinctly having the thought, as I watched the balloons float away from me...there go my dreams.

Backtrack to mile 13.  I knew I had to make an important decision.  I was struggling both physically and mentally.  I was starting to lose it.  My energy was zapped.  I had lost all hope of qualifying for Boston.  I knew that if I didn't get it together that there was no way that I could run the rest of the race.  I wasn't even to the halfway point!  I decided that I had to run MY race.  I learned a very valuable lesson the hard way through experience that I have to run hard when I want, and recover when my body needs to recover.  It did not work for me to run my pacers way--because it's not a training run, it's a race...you are running so much faster than your body is used to.  I needed to listen to my body, not try to keep up with someone else's.  My game plan had to be revamped.  I went to plan B.  Plan B: Break 4 hours.  'Hold it together' was my mantra for the next few miles.  I began to recover and feel alive again.  I have to admit that even though I was feeling better and better, still I was deathly afraid that since I had started out so fast, that I would do what so many runners dread...hit the wall at mile 20.  I kept thinking, if I can just get past mile 20 without seeing chickens run by me, I'll be fine.  I kept feeling better and better but I was getting thirsty and could not quench my thirst.  Another lesson learned the hard way.  I should have had some heavy duty electrolyte capsules like NUUN with me.  The gatorade that the water stations had to offer did not balance my electrolytes.  My calves began to cramp.  This was at about mile 16.  I decided to ignore the fact that they were cramping because it wasn't painful enough to make me stop running.  I just thought, hey--I'll rest at mile 26.2.  I kept on thinking about the quote I read before the marathon and the conversation me and Mo had the day before the marathon when we drove the course.  She asked me what my strategy was.  I told her "My plan is that I'll start running at the starting line, and I won't stop until I reach 26.2 miles.  Then I'll rest."  We laughed and I asked her what her plan was.  She told me she just wanted to have a nice easy race--just like any training run.  I realized that I had a completely different attitude toward this race than she did.  I told her, "I'm going to kill myself."

Mo is right beside me here.  Wish she was in the picture!

I think it was around this time when I saw Mo.  Around mile 17 I think.  She looked radiant.  Long blonde ponytail flapping in the wind.  Perfect gate.  Looking strong.  We hugged, high fived and talked a tiny bit.  I hate to talk!  It takes energy to talk.  She on the other hand I think was dying to talk.  She would have talked the whole race I bet.  But I can't do it in a race.  So we ran side by side for a while.  We ran into her husband who was on his racing bike.  I think it is at mile 17, at Snow Canyon where people have road access to the course.  This is where I saw photographers for the first time.  Mo and I waved and smiled for the cameras.  I was feeling so great at this point.  There is a short hill at mile 18 that isn't easy but it is like I said, short.  I can't remember when, but shortly after that I think,  I saw Mo run to the side of the road.  I never saw her again.  It was at this moment that I thought about my friend Miko.  I hadn't seen her the whole race.  I wondered if she was in front of me or in back--and that it would be so cool to run into her.  I didn't know it at the time, but at mile 19 I looked to my left and I could not believe my eyes but it was Jill.  I was so excited to see her!  I smiled and laughed as I said hi, but she did not smile back.  The look on her face told me she was exhausted and struggling.  I thought for a moment that maybe I should stay with her.  She told me to go on.  I felt my energy plummet as I was slowing down.  The only thing that kept me going was to increase my pace and just go.  So I took off and left Jill behind.  I am not sure where my mind went for the next 3 miles.  All I remember next was looking up at the mile marker in the brightness of the sun to see I was at mile 22.  MILE 22?!!!  I was like, where was mile 19, 20, & 21?  I honestly do not remember them.  What a blessing.

No more smiles for the camera

Mile 22 is when I started to realize that the race was almost over.  I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.  ONLY 4 MILES TO GO I thought.  I looked at the clock and it hit me...I was doing it.  I was on track to break four hours.  The clock said something like 3:30ish.  Even though my legs were cramped, and physically I wasn't feeling the best--mentally I was ready to transform--to take flight.  I was on fire and I was focused on ONE thing.  The finish line.  The crowd got a few smiles and high five out of me, but not many.  I stared straight ahead.  I was running to win.  I could smell success.  It was there for the taking.  I just had to push through the exhaustion and pain that was starting to creep in again...not just in my legs but in my bones too--my feet, my knees, my quads, my hips, my back, my shoulders, my neck--OMGoodness everything started to scream with pain.  I kept quieting the screams with 'I can rest after the finish'.

Beautiful St. George

By mile 23, 24, & 25--we were running with crowds of people on both sides of the road.  I waved to Miko's husband.  It was fun to see a familiar face in the crowd.  It is truly different at this stage of the marathon because instead of running in the canyon, you are in the town running through neighborhoods like coming out of solitary obscurity to sudden civilization.  It's like all of a sudden you go from runner in the canyon that noone is watching to the superstar who is the main attraction.  Everyone is on their feet clapping and yelling, "Great Job!" and "Way to Go!" or "You don't have far to go!"  A moment that I don't think I will ever forget as long as I live is when I saw the sign that said 25.2.  I was looking for it.  I always sprint the last mile in a race.  I like to really kick it in the end.  I remember seeing the clock...it read: 3:52.  All I could think of was 8 minutes.  8 minutes.

That last mile was and is what I'm most proud of.  It was a mile run with energy from my mind.  I didn't have any physical strength left.  It is very telling where my mind went.  First, I told myself to just do it.  I heard myself whisper, YOU CAN DO IT.  Just hold it together--a mile is nothing! I heard myself say.  Then I heard my friend and mentor Carrie: 'This is not a training run, it's meant to hurt' and 'When you are tired, you don't think about it, you don't read into it, you don't surrender to it, you push through'.  As I turned the corner to see those familiar canopy of balloons that mark the finish line, I thought, "Holy s*%$# that is too far--I can't make it!"

In this moment, I was unaware of anyone else.  Time stood still.  I could not hear the noise of the cheering crowd.  I threw my head back and looked up I prayed a fervent prayer to God.  It went like this, "God, carry me in."  "Carry me."

Getting to the finish with absolutely nothing left

I knew I had nothing left.  I knew that I needed to be carried.  As I crossed the finish line I saw the clock and it read 4:01.  At that moment I didn't dwell on my time because I had just killed myself afterall.  I had given it my ALL.  Needless to say that I also had a very spiritual experience having been given strength from on high.  I was so overwhelmed that I collapsed into a volunteer's arms.  I felt like I was going to throw up and I told him so.  He carried me to the misters to cool down and I immediately felt better.  I came to just in time to receive my medal and get my picture taken.  After that, I walked in a daze to get some water and some yogurt.  It was hilarious to see others walking around in a daze or just sitting on the grass like they had just been hit by Mack trucks.  I sat on the grass and man I could hardly move.  My legs were toast.  I drank up and ate.  Then I spotted Miko and Monique.  They were in a line to get Cokes, so I did too.  I got a Diet Coke for Jill.  I walked around with that thing for an hour.  No Jill.  I was so not in my right mind.  I just thought, Oh well, I'll find her sometime.  So I headed over to the massage tent.  I waited in that line for an hour.  Got my massage-which was pure heaven by-the-way, still NO JILL.  So I decided to eat again, then go get my sack of clothes where my phone was.  The first person I called was Steve.  He was really proud of me.  It was so good to talk to him.  I texted some friends and family how I did.  4:01.  I secretly hoped that somehow the chip time was faster.  But I thought, nahhhh.  Wishful thinking...

Happy to get my medal

I finally hooked up with Jill after almost 3 hours.  I found her in the massage line.  She had quite the story to tell.  She had over heated and passed out at mile 20!  She was helped by an onlooker and ended up finishing the race in an unbelievable time!  She was in the first aid tent for a while after the race.  I can't believe I didn't think to check.  It just never entered my mind that she wasn't ok.

After my 2nd massage, we were driven home by Jill's sister.  It's a blessing she was with us because Jill and I were both hot messes.  I was so incredibly sick.  Both of us were.  I was sick with nausea and a bad stomach ache.  I should have gone straight to bed but of course I didn't.  I ate a little and tried to go to the bathroom.  I decided to check my texts that had come back from my shout out.  I noticed a CONGRATULATIONS! from Aimee my BFF in Boston.  She was really pulling for me to qualify.  As I read her text I was thinking, I didn't text Aimee.  How does she know--and then I read further: "Congratulations 3:59!!!"  She had looked it up online.  I gasped.  Then I just lost it.  All of the emotion came flooding out...the appreciation for God's help, all my hard work, the giant effort that I had made--breaking 4 hours made me feel like it was all worth it.  It was a huge milestone for me.  It was like a gift.    I just could not hold back the tears.  Tears turned into sobs.  I was so grateful.  So happily surprised.
I did it.

Race Results:
Jen Johnston       3:59
Monique Gill      4:05
Miko Baca          4:10
Jill Freihofner     4:33

The infamous balloons

The medals are always made from local red rock of St. George

I'm glad I didn't win, because where on earth would I put that thing?

What it looks like to win a marathon

BYU is King

Gotta love the redrock