Another day, another race. This time it was the Marine Corps Historic Half Marathon in Fredericksburg , VA.
The race fell on a Sunday, so I traveled to Fredericksburg the day before to enjoy the local area and gear up for the next day. After a Saturday of fun in Fredericksburg
After Wa-Fo (as my mom has loving re-named the chain restaurant), we drove over to the parking lot where all of the runners were boarding buses that were headed to the race start. We took a few last moments to soak up the warmth of the car, holding our hands to the vents. Then we quickly changed from our warm sweaters and pulled on our sneakers, leaving everything we didn’t need to run with in the car. I had planned to check my race bag at the runner check in area so I could keep my phone and sweater with me until the last possible moment. I was dressed as usual for a race in 2 pairs of socks, my tri shorts and Adidas shorts over them, a couple of sports bras, a racing tank, and a long sleeve technical t-shirt. I wear some variation of this every time I race and it is because those are the most comfortable training clothes that I own. We quickly boarded the bus with the other runners and began the 15-20 minute trip to the race start. I like the pre-race activity that goes on because it’s interesting to see who does what. Everyone seems to have a routine and while clearly most of the folks mingling around were tired, there was an excited air of anticipation hanging about on the bus and at the race grounds. I do not really have a pre-race routine other than hydrating, breathing, and keeping my brain relaxed. I don’t ever warm-up or stretch or anything, but on this day I stretched out my calves a bit as we stood in the parking lot waiting in line to check out race bags. I figured a bit of stretching couldn’t hurt since I had a sneaking suspicion that I would be running this race a bit harder than I have run other races. With about 30 or so minutes to the start of the race, we meandered over to the beer tent (which we would frequent later) to see a friend, who was running the 5k option offered that day.
While we stood and talked with them, I watched all of the runners milling about before the race. I noticed that each person seemed so absorbed with what was going to happen for them over the next few hours. There are so many different types of runners and I love people watching (not in a creepy from-a-distance kind of way though). As a sociologist, I spent much of my education studying the people within different types of groups, and sub-groups. I really enjoy watching and being able to identify the different kinds of runners and where their stories fit into the greater running community picture. Some people will tell you there are only a few types of runners (elites, hard-core runners, weekend warriors, joggers, and charity runners), but I believe that with in the over-arching group of runners, you have massive and multiple sub-groups of runners. At races, while I do my mental pre-race run down (see earlier race posts), I also watch the people at these races and both guess and identify where they fit into the picture. At some point, I will create a long elaborate chart of all the different types of runners, yes, just for fun. On this day there were a fair share of runners who were running for a military-related charity or in honor (and sometimes in memory of) someone in the military, most often in the Marines. There were widely known running related charities like The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's Team in Training (TNT), Susan G. Komen Team, Wounded Warrior Team, etc. At the same time there were people running for their own cause, written in permanent marker across their backs, sometimes with pictures of loved ones, a poem or a story. So in terms of breaking runners down into categories I would say generally there are the following: (1) Elites, (2) serious racers, (3) dedicated runners, (4) slower dedicated runners, first timers, and simply to-finish runners, and last but not least, (5) walkers and the “for fun” runners. Please remember that this is simply my opinion here and that these are general categories, from these there are tons and tons of sub-groups. Look forward to that massive map after a long weekend of boredum at some point in the future. And since everyone in the world in unique, we should recognize that not everyone fits into a specific category or sub group and there are always outliers. But (I don’t want to get all Sociology on you) anyway, back to the descriptions of the subgroups. (1) The elite runners are those who could roll up in a van with smoke pouring out of it, be smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer, and still kick everyone’s ass. In case you’re wondering, we didn’t see anyone do that, but you know they could if they wanted to. They are almost always sponsored by big name companies and spend almost all of their time running and training. These are the folks paid to do what they are naturally extremely gifted at. These guys are the winners of races like Boston, NY, etc. (2) Then you have the serious racers. I call them this, because of their focus and dedication to make a time goal. They are there to race. These runners are shooting for a sub 1.5 hr half or a sub 3:00 hr full marathon. They are almost always strictly road runners, are insanely competitive, and are traditionally between 26 and 34 years old. These are very good runners, but then again they usually have genetics on their side. These runners are almost always outfitted in some high tech big name running gear, like Brooks or Asics. However, these guys race because they want to, they are not (usually) getting paid. They are also slower than the elites. From here on out it’s basically a crescendo of ability and running goals/desires.
** Yes, I am breaking runners down along a timeline of when they finish, because within each time-related finishing group there are a massive amount of subset groups and categories as I stated before. Please also note that I am primarily discussing road runners in this post because this was a road race. Trail runners and ultra marathoners fit into a slightly different category where, while time is still an important component of trail racing, it’s more about the difficulty of the course and the length of the racked up mileage. Look forward to a post about this in the future. **
(3) The next logical group is the dedicated runners, those who train often and work hard to meet their goals, but are not quite as fast. These dedicated runners are often clad in similar clothing as the serious racers and while they are there to finish within a time goal, there is often a little more leeway with these runners. Their time goals are usually in the range of a sub-2 hr half and sub-4 hr full marathon. This is a pretty large group of runners. However, while these guys (and girls) often have a dedicated training schedule, but they don’t let their running schedule dominate (too much) their personal lives. This isn’t to say they place any less value on their training than the serious racers do, they just allow for a little more life in-between their training. I have noticed that all of the serious racers I know are extremely focused on their training schedules and it dominates their time and sometimes of their mind as well. Basically the dedicated runners keep running because they really love it and they might not be the fastest bunch, but what they lack in genes, they make up for with hard work. If you were wondering, I would say that I am probably in this group of runners, because while I dedicate myself to my running commitments, I allow for the occasional slip-up, illness, etc to briefly derail me without getting crazy about it. I run because I love it, and many of the runners in this group are in the same mindset. (4) The next group is mostly composed of slower dedicated runners, first timers, and simply to-finish runners. These people are the most impressive runners in my opinion. These are the folks who (just a sampling here) started running to loose weight and found something more, the elderly men and women still running at 80+ years of age, and people who are doing walk/run programs, run/walkers for charity, etc. While they’re slower than the 3 previous groups, they are giving the race everything they have. Many elite runners also have an ample amount of respect for these runners (and those that don’t should). Ryan Hall once said that slow runners impress him, because he finishes his race in such a short time, but these people are running for hours and hours. (5) Then the last group is the walkers and the “for fun” runners. I am not entirely sure how to explain these people other than saying that the walkers are walking and usually complete their race in just under the time allotted for the event. The “for fun” runners are generally run/walkers who don’t really train for the event, but just say, hey this could be fun. They also tend to don costumes. I am not judging these folks; I think anyone who laces up their shoes for a race is great and completely deserves the medal that is presented to them at the finish line. If you want to compete, knock your socks off; if you just want to finish in a time goal, gut it out; if you want to just do your best, then do just that. Just please don’t complain. We are all hurting, but you made this commitment, so stick to it.
So we wished oour friend luck in the 5k, and headed to find our space at the starting line. Generally you line up by the time you expect to finish in, but due to crowding and fencing, we ended up around the 3 hour finish time. The speaker called out sponsors and rules and the national anthem was sung, and a moment of silence was held. As they began to count down to the wheelchair and elite start, I hoped for some streak of luck. I took a few deep breaths before the gun went off and then we started moving forward. Within moments, my iPod was plugged into my ears and my arms were hanging in their typical dinosaur fashion next to my rib cage and we were chugging along at a 10 minute per mile pace. The first mile felt long as we winded through the parking lots and roadways of the southern-style, chain store mall and then we were set out on the “open road.” As we ran, my race partner and I communicated primarily through hand signals and vague gestures. Generally, one of us would push ahead past some slower runners or charge forward and than the other would follow. Whoever charged would then do the customary ‘look over their shoulder’ for the other. It was an extremely fluid partnership. I found that having him to (essentially) chase throughout the race was a big plus, because it motivated me and kept me going, even when I felt like I had nothing left. I would recommend that when running with a partner in a race, have a system in place that allows for maximum (clear) communication without expending too much energy. The course winded through a parkway and then through a series of neighborhoods. We quickly noticed that the course was taking us through what must be considered the ‘really freakin’ nice’ part of town, because there were huge houses everywhere.
People often ask me what I think about while I am running for such a long time, and I find that the thoughts I have are different with every race. This race I spent a lot of time reading people’s shirts, running through my mental and physical checklist, and watching the scenery. There are often a lot of things to look at and distract you while you are running a race. My race partner told me later that he thought that it would be boring, but he actually found the event fun. He said this was because there was a lot going on to catch and keep his attention while running for 2 hours. At one point there were bagpipers right before one water stop, which I found extremely amusing. While I had both ears plugged with buds, I kept the volume low so that I could hear the outside world if need be. I noticed that every a Marine who was running the race passed by a volunteer Marine on the sidelines they yelled, “Oorah, sir!” I never really understood what this meant, though I saw it everywhere at the Marine Corps Marathon last October. Later that day I spent some time on the internet researching the history of the phrase, but for those who don’t know I’ll let you in on what I discovered. “Oorah” essentially means good job. It also means: keep going, you got this, you’re doing great, etc. It is also often used by a commander of sorts in a speech to pump up his (or her) Marines. It can also be used as in a question. While I assume that there are better examples of questions in which you’d ask and respond with this phrase, I will use a more recent example to articulate the usage: Let’s say someone is asking you if you want to assist them in making dinner and they state, “Oorah?” Which in this context means “Yes?” You would then respond, “Oorah,” meaning “Yes.” Got it?
Anyway, we flew quickly through miles 2 – 6 without stopping. I can actually say that besides a stop for the bathroom, I ran the entirety of this race without stopping or walking at all. This may seem like a “duh” thing for someone who’s downed at least 6 distance races at this point, but I also have ran most of these at least slightly injured and therefore had to stop and walk (only for a bit) in a few. When we’d pass one of the 5k markers it would show us the time, and I would immediately try to calculate what our time was and what our projected finish time would be. I would not advise this for other runners. It is often difficult enough to make your brain do simple things like drink water, let alone do math while you are steaming along. I would be frustrated and confused and make a face and then have to pull my thoughts else where. By this point my knees were starting to get stiff and sore, but I tried to just keep my chin up and think about the miles I was clipping off. My race partner told me later that at different times during the race, he’d look over at me and I’d have this 30 foot stare of death going on, then I’d notice he was looking at me and look up and my face would change entirely into a massive smile. I really do try to smile at other runners and such, but sometimes when you are running your guts out your face gets distorted. Truth be told I felt a bit like I was dying, but I didn’t want him to think I was a wuss, so I’d throw on that smile every time he’d look at me. I was also really happy that we were running the race together. There really was so many things working well that day, that I couldn't complain. The race was once again expertly staffed; the water tables with more than enough for everyone, the Marines (who got there at 3 am to setup and staff the race) and the volunteers were so helpful and kind always with a positive word to keep you going, and they even provided the runners with sports beans at mile 6 (I LOVE sports beans (like jelly beans but packed with sports stuff instead of just sugar)). I think probably every event the Marine Corps Marathon group puts on (about 6 different ones) are awesome. They are very talented people at organizing, coordinating, staffing, setting up, and putting on races. Being a race director is definitely in my top 5 of ideal jobs, so each time I go to a race I try to evaluate the things I like and dislike about the race. I hope some day I’ll get to try out my skills with this. Somewhere around mile 7, as my knees began to tighten, my stomach started to turn over and I felt very sick. This has never happened to me before and I was a bit freaked out about it. We were still pushing along at somewhere between 9-10 minute miles and I was nervous that I was wearing myself out too early. I knew that there was a pretty big hill between mile 10-12 and I was hoping to conserve some energy for that hill. But now I was doing everything I could just to make it to the next bathroom. It seems as if that whenever you need a bathroom along a course route, there is none in sight. Finally, after the next water stop at mile 9, a line of port-a-johns appeared and I was saved. Although this, I am convinced, was the sole factor that we didn’t finish in less than 2 hours. Stupid bathroom lines.
After the brief stop, I was feeling better and actually looking forward to the upcoming hill. And then I started running again. By this point, my legs felt like they were encased in concrete blocks, my hips were stiff as wooden planks, and the muscles in my knees felt raw. My feet had gone numb an hour before and now felt like stubs. Basically I felt like I was on the verge of collapse, and then we saw the hill. I wanted to cry, but I didn't. Still running along at a steady pace, we charged forward toward the hill. This hill winded up and behind a hospital center (just in case, you know - wink, wink), so while the road was nicely paved and easy to run on, it was still going up and that made it unpleasant. I really struggled up that hill, because I was having significant trouble bending my knees. As we neared mile 11 (and the last water stop on the course), the sun came out and blasted us with a good deal of heat. I drank a bunch of water and Gatorade before setting out for the last 2 miles. The race at this point goes down a hill (and then back up a hill) and links up to what was the beginning of the course. This area was basically just pavement and trees so there wasn’t much at this point to distract me from the last hill ahead. This hill wasn’t long, but it was steep. About 60% of the way up my knees decided they couldn’t do it anymore and I gave the traditional sign of defeat, I cursed and headed to the side line. I pulled off my headband and tied it tight below my left knee cap. My legs hurt so bad I figured if I could just make the leg go numb, then maybe, just maybe I could finish. My race partner, likely loosing patience for my whining, looked at me and said something to the effect of 'Come on, let’s do this. One more mile. Then I heard the words that I knew were coming eventually, "We’re gonna do this last one fast." I, honest to God, believed that I was done, that I would just walk to the finish line. I had nothing left to give. But he believed otherwise. Then he took off and magically my legs (somehow) followed in tow. We flew past the mall stores and the spectators lined up along the sides of the road. I had no breath left, I couldn't relaly see, and felt like I might pass out and I heard him say, “Come on Emma, look up, the finish line is right there.” I looked up and it looked blurry and so far away; though it was barely a quarter of a mile away, it felt like 10 miles. Each time I would get up next to him he’d dash ahead and I’d follow. The last 200 ft of the race he told me to go and give it everything I had, just like a coach, and I did. I let everything else go. The last thing I heard was him say, "There you go." Time seemed to stop and the people around me all were drowned out by the blood pounding in my ears. My vision was blurry and my body numb. I stopped paying attention to my form and my foot strike and I just ran to that finish line the way children run on the beach to the ocean. I closed my eyes and crossed the finish line smiling.
After crossing the finish line and stopping running, I realized that I still could barely breathe and needed water badly. My race partner was, of course, fine. We hugged, congratulating each other, and headed to the Marines (and little girls dressed up all fancy, who maybe were part of a beauty pageant) handing out the medals. With my medal around my neck, I found the water and grabbed a few bottles. I was still feeling light headed and mildly sick as we headed toward the post-run complimentary food area. While standing in line, there was a little kid handing out Krispy Kreme doughnuts, one of which I took and instantly regretted (way too much sugar for my sick stomach). After eating a banana, drinking my water, and munching on the doughnut, we headed to the check bag pick-up area. Once we had our bags, we headed to the beer tent. This is the point of this entry where my mom rolls her eyes and says, "What a lush" but I learned that beer actually helps significantly after a distance race, it's not just for fun. Before this race, I was always leery of the beer tent available to runners after distance races. I thought, that just doesn’t seem like a good idea. However, it’s a GREAT idea. The beer both settled my stomach and let my brain in a slightly higher state of happiness. It also dulled the pain in my legs, just enough. I grabbed a light beer (a full big cup of it) and we sat down on the grass to relax for a little bit and enjoy our beer. We sat there for a long time relaxing, talking, smiling, and people watching before we got up and hobbled (me, not him) to the bus and back home.
The race was a huge success, and by success I mean I had a blast and really enjoyed it and I am pretty sure my race partner did too. I forever will love racing, because all of the beauty and fun of running comes to fruition in these moments where you are sweating your life out your pores and you are giving everything you have. Giving your all always feels so damn good. I am also incredibly grateful to him, not only for that sharing the experience with me, but also for pushing me to try harder and finish strong. Another race, another day, you can bet that I will be looking forward to many many more.
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