I had always considered myself an active person, maybe even athletic, but after several years of pursuing degrees, raising a young family and adapting to the environment of our new Dhaka home, I suddenly realized that describing myself as athletic was really a distant memory, not a present reality. My re-entry into the running lifestyle began with a couple of DTC SLR’s, but really took off after the Habitat for Humanity race on April 25th. That race did it for me. After that I was on my way back to regular running.
It wasn’t long before I felt the need for a formidable fitness goal. Since I was looking forward to my six month state-side assignment in Atlanta and was looking for something fun to do with my brother (who competes regularly in Sprint Triathlons), I called him up and talked him into signing up for the ING Georgia marathon.
Making the commitment, putting it on the calendar and actually registering for the race (non-refundable) did wonders for my running, but I still had a lot to learn about training. Since I didn’t want to admit I was a “beginner” or “novice” I started out with a training program that was way too aggressive, but worse than that, I really did not appreciate the training process and the time required for one’s body to develop the endurance necessary for a marathon distance. My mentality was, “the more miles the better, run through the pain, push, push, push!” I remember my SLR buddies talking about taking it easy and giving time to recover, but I just wasn’t hearing them. I had a big goal and my aggressive type A personality was just love’n it.
In my zeal, I was breaking all the training rules, but my biggest mistake was simply over training. This all came to a head in November, when 2 miles into a run, I experienced a sudden sharp pain just below my left lateral knee. I could walk, with discomfort, but running was unbearable. After a couple of weeks of this pain, I finally got it scanned and discovered it was a stress fracture. Treatment? You guessed it. No running for at least six weeks. Oh well, there goes the marathon idea; but maybe not. After 6 weeks, I was back in the States, well rested and all geared up for some cold weather running on some delightfully quiet American roads. In this three month period before the March 29th race, I had steadily increased my long-run distance to a whopping 22.5 miles! This was the closest I was able to get to marathon distance before it was time to taper for the big show.
Talk about nervous. I tossed and turned the whole night before the race. It was a relief to hear the alarm go off that morning. My brother and I ate some oatmeal and a banana and headed for the subway. Not trusting the clothing drop-off system at the race, we about froze to death waiting for the race to begin. Rusty and I exchanged some final encouraging words as he split off to find his 3:40 pace group (which he stayed with for the entire race! His first marathon! Wow!). I, on the other hand, joined the 4:30 group, but not for long.
The energy of the crowd, the excitement of the endeavor and the amazing urban atmosphere (especially in contrast to Dhaka) was so exciting for me. When the gun went off, and the crowd began to creep ahead, even though I knew most of the folk around me were doing the half-marathon, I decided not to resist the urge ease ahead to a faster pace group. My goal was 4:30, but before I knew it I had passed the 4:20 and the 4:10 groups. My spontaneous new strategy was to see if I could shave at least 10 minutes off my goal but start in the 4:10 group just to create some buffer.
For the first 8 miles, I felt awesome. The city was beautiful, the crowd was fun and I was just pumped to finally be on my way. My first pang of reality hit when I approached a huge sign that read “Half-Marathon, Turn Right”, and I watched 90% of my running companions leave me with a slightly slower and much sparser field of runners. The intensity of these runners was noticeable and sobering. I could tell from determination on their faces and the cheers of admiration from the spectators that this was going to be a long and tough journey and I had better find my rhythm and settle into my own pace.
The beautiful homes, parks and the interesting people made it easy to occupy my mind, but at mile 13 the strain on my legs had become a persistent ache and I was almost startled when the 4:10 pace group seemed to blow right past me. I tried to keep up with a couple of surges, but came to my senses and returned to my rhythm. My breathing was great and my body temperature felt perfect (55F outside), but the muscle ache was there to stay. I stayed fueled up with Power Gels and sports drink and gave myself some 60 second rest breaks at the water stations.
From this point forward, I just kept those doggies move’n. Several times, especially toward the end, a simple thought would dominate my mind “this hurts and I want to stop”, which was followed by “well then stop, dummy”. Then I would think “Wait a minute! This is what you spent all that time and energy training for, so don’t stop, it is supposed to hurt”. I remember me regularly asking myself “Is it physically possible to keep running?” “Well… yes.” “Then don’t stop, just make it to that next corner and reassess.” And that is exactly what I did. I kept negotiating with myself over and over, until I finished the race with very minimal walking.
Some of my friends know that I have my own personal cheering squad. They are my 12, 11 and 6 year old daughters, my 5 year old son and my amazing wife, Carol. It was such an encouragement to be greeted by their cheers. They managed to see me again at two other spots on the course and met me shortly after my finish. As I approached the end I was determined to finish strong, for them. I also stopped thinking about how many miles I had already done. Instead, I would pretend I was just stepping out for a 6, 5, 4, etc. mile run. I can do that! In fact, it felt kind of like the beginning of my runs when I was over training. Been there, done that, so press on! You get the idea. Just more mind games that got me to the finish.
My finish included a little surge to get past a guy I had my eye on for about 3 miles. My final time was 4:20:58 and I was thrilled to realize I had achieved all of my goals. I finished, I had fun, I spent some good times with my brother, I took minimal walk break, I felt “good” at the end, my kids got to see their Daddy follow through on a challenging goal and I finished with a desire to do it again some day. I could not be more pleased.
I really want to give a special thanks to Robin and Dave (Guys, you better include this if you use this report!). If they had not started the DTC I probably would have never found the motivation to pursue my dream of running a marathon. Every time I seemed a little discouraged and would say during a steamy SLR “Man, I just can’t imagine running a marathon”, they would always encourage me to just keep at it and be patient. Thanks for investing in people. I thank God for the pleasure of knowing your family.
Joyfully in Christ,
Will
Joey Delacruz 0172 769 1383 joeden15@yahoo.com
