My First Marathon Experience

I wrote this over a month ago, but figured I'd post it here for the fun of it since it relates to a real sport where you don't get timeouts and subs. Enjoy.

Running a marathon is a goal some people make for themselves in their lifetime.

The distance, 26.2 miles, is no easy task.

But for someone like me, who ran competitively in high school and college, it is not as daunting.

So when I decided I would run the Road Runner Akron Marathon this past spring, the goal was not to finish.

The goal was to race – no matter how much it might hurt.

Summer Training

The only way I know how to train is hard. The summer was spent running between 80 and 115 miles a week. This meant running twice a day multiple times a week, drinking tons of water and Gatorade, and becoming one with that wonderful heat.

Group runs are vital. I met with friends almost every day, and if nothing else I have a younger brother Thomas who runs for Ohio Northern University to join me when no one else was around.

My crowning achievement was running 983 miles in a 10-week span. That’s almost 100 a week, which in of itself was quite an accomplishment.

As a whole for the year, I’ve run close to 2,600 miles. In comparison, my little Saturn which has spent most of this year in the shop hasn’t logged that many miles.

The Big Day

I slept pretty well the night before.

It helped when two weeks prior to the race, I came down with a bad cold. For 10 days I felt like a ton of bricks hit me and the dump truck ran me over on the way to clean up the mess. I did recover a few days prior, just in time for the race.

So after being sick, there really wasn’t anything left to worry about.

Warming up before the race was different. I had develop this routine in college. I ran, then stretched, then ran some more.

I couldn’t do that before the marathon. 26.2 miles is far enough. Running more than that beforehand is only going to tire you out.

Besides five minutes to basically loosen up, I just sat there, stretched, and talked to my girlfriend Nicole to pass the time. Unlike waiting in line for the Wii for five hours, she was a lot more supportive and did not consider me nearly as crazy for doing this.

She was worried about me, naturally, in part because she had the same sickness I had and had it first. She might have given it to me, but hey it happens. She was there for me when I needed her, and in the end that is all that matters.

You Can Pass Me, For Now

College racing is simple. Run hard and beat as many people as you can right from the start.

The Akron Marathon does not work that way. Being a big relay race as well, some of the people at the line are not running 26.2 miles. They are running around six miles. So when the bell went off, I actually had to restrain myself as people not nearly in as good of shape as me went by me.

It felt like those times on the highway when I am in my mustang but there is a police car right in front of me. Not that I would ever speed or anything.

The goal was to average 6:30 miles, which would get me to a 2:50.00 marathon. It helped to have one of my buddies, Ryan Marr, with me to start since he was looking to go a similar time.

We chatted – we had almost three hours to kill after all – and did our best to stay toward our target goal. Sure enough, when we hit three miles, we were at 19:30.

Perfect pace.

Challenge #1

I found myself in a pack of four six miles into the race. Ahead of us was another pack running the full marathon. One of them was a female, which led to one guy asking, “Who is that?”

“2:45,” was the response, referring to a time she previous ran. I found out later her name was Melissa Rittenhouse, but the following response ate me up inside.

“She is going to kick all our butts, that’s for sure.”

I thought in my head, well you can let her beat you, but she isn’t going to beat me. This isn’t a sexist thing or anything, OK maybe a little, but I do not like being told I cannot beat someone. So a new goal at that moment became beat “2:45.”

New Running Partner

Ryan is a nice guy and all, but it was not his day and he wasn’t going to keep up with me long term. Right around the time he started to fall back, I had another training buddy in waiting.

John Nakel, who ran the first 10 kilometers on a relay team, agreed to run to mile 11 with me to keep me on pace. He did better than that, as I started to pick up the pace and close the gap on the group that included “2:45.”

By the time John veered off at the Inventors Hall of Fame, he helped me through 10 miles in 65:05 – only five seconds from goal pace.

He told me to catch the group and I would be sailing smooth.

Catch them I would.

Daring Move

When your goal is to run 6:30 pace, it is best not to stray from the time one way or another. But I had to make a move, so I used one of the biggest downhill miles of the race to the fullest. I dropped a 6:08 and caught the group on the Tow Path.

Risky, yes, but the reward was worth it, as I found out the next day.

When I caught this group, I found in it another pacer. Justin Dickman, a runner from Youngstown State, was helping another person in there pace until the 20-mile mark.

This was another stretch I’ve run a million times being basically in my backyard. Familiarity feels good, especially when you get to the halfway point of the race in 1:24.26 – now ahead of my target goal.

Challenge #2

When I caught that group, the six of us were all men. Rittenhouse, the top female, was about 20 seconds back of us but still in striking distance. These guys were all confident enough they would run 2:50, so at the time it seemed like a good group.

But around mile 15, I received a comment from one of them that again lit a fire inside.

“Be smart, young pup.”

Being the only “virgin” marathoner in the group, I know he was referring to me possibly blowing up because I wasn’t prepared.

Sorry buddy, not going to happen.

So when we left the Tow Path and started the climb though Sand Run, the toughest four miles of the race, I gained a third goal – drop this group like a bad habit.

Secret Weapon

Sand Run is tough. Four miles basically all up hill. Again, I knew this ahead of time – and planned ahead.

I asked my buddy Mike Seymour, who is within minutes of qualifying for the Olympic Trails in the marathon, to meet up with me at Sand Run.

Sure enough, when Dickman was struggling to keep us on pace halfway up Sand Run, there was Seymour to the rescue.

Inside five minutes of him joining our group, our group became just two guys – Seymour and me.

We charged up the hill, made a left and put a surge on that pack that would not be countered. As hard as it is to pick up the pace when you are 19 miles into a race, it’s easy when you got a great motivator like Seymour running beside you.

He saw people ahead of me and reminded me that I am stronger than all of them. My confidence soared as we picked off three more marathoners in the next three milers.

Of course, Seymour could only run so far, and at mile 22, for the first time all race, I was going to be by myself.

Do or Die

The first mile by myself also happened to be the last mile with a bad uphill. I would fall asleep – or the soreness in my quadriceps that started 15 miles ago took its toll – and I ran my slowest mile of 6:53.

I could have slowed down and ran easy the rest of the way.

But that wouldn’t be me.

I swore at myself a bit, and picked it back up through Stan Hywet. It helps when you have runners slowing down in front of you, as I passed two more guys before reaching Market Street.

I was tired. I was a little light-headed. But I was back on pace.

The Final Stretch

If you haven’t noticed, I haven’t mentioned anyone passing me since the beginning. That’s because after mile eight or so, I was the one doing all the passing.

There was one exception, and it occurred right around the time I reached Market Street.

A female passed me.

For a second, I thought it was Rittenhouse, until I looked at her bib and noticed she was on a 5-person relay.

OK, so a college grad running one-seventh the distance I am passes me. I can live with that, but she did help me speed up more as I tried to keep her close.

As I closed in on the final mile, my stride was getting shorter and my pace was slowing again. On cue, Seymour was back. Mr. Motivator got me going again, and as we turned down Main Street, I was almost delirious but running fast.

Seymour’s final words were to kick, and I did just that. I passed a final group of half marathoners and can faintly remember my buddy and race director Dave Hunter saying my name over the PA system as I crossed the finish line.

2:51.01.

One minute off my goal pace, but I beat the woman, I beat the group, and I beat the hills.

Mission accomplished.

Painful, but Worth it

I took about eight steps after the finish line. My quads were on fire and my legs were done. Two guys helped me to the medical tent.

On the way I received my medal. At the time I swore it weighed 40 pounds.

The next 15 minutes were spent laying on a cot with ice strapped to my legs and waiting for my lungs to start taking in air again.

Sounds like a picnic, doesn’t it?

As bad as it was – and it was bad – I had my girlfriend there to rescue. She was my crutch the rest of the day, as I found walking almost impossible.

The one major pick me up was when I checked the results on a laptop there and saw where I finished.

I was 25^th overall, and third in my age group.

Not too bad for my first marathon.

And remember when I said Rittenhouse was only 20 seconds behind our group halfway through the race? Well she caught and passed every one of those guys, finishing 26^th about two minutes behind me.

Best Wake Up Ever

I won’t lie. I hurt. Bad.

My legs were a wreck and my arm is all cut up from my jersey rubbing against it. I felt like an 80-year-old man, and on Sunday morning I did not want to get out of bed.

Nicole brought me the Akron Beacon Journal, since we knew they would have a section on the marathon. She looked at it first, then handed it to me.

I looked at the front page, and about cried with joy right there. There was a photo of six runners on the Tow Path. They were not named in the caption because they were shadowy, almost silhouette-like.

But I knew who they were - namely the guy in the center with the black cap and red jersey.

It was me.

That surge I made, dropping the 6:08 to catch that group, paid off with a reward better than I could have known at the time. By leading the group through the Tow Path I set myself to be the center piece of Ken Love’s picture, and the front page of the paper.

So I’m famous – almost.

I know it was me, and now you do too.

I am supposed to get a prize of some kind for third place in my age group in the mail, but that picture will be the ultimate memory of my inaugural marathon.

Try It, You Might Like It

As I write this four days later, I still struggle to stand up, sit down, go up and down stairs, and just in general be mobile.

But don’t let that deter you from trying to run a marathon. From what other people have told me, if you run it slower, it apparently doesn’t hurt as bad.

And no matter how fast you do it, the sense of accomplishment outweighs any pain you may have short term.

My only suggestion is that if you are going to do it, don’t be afraid to push yourself to running a little faster than you think you can.

A little more pain is worth the reward.