Lessons Learn running Marathon #81

First…26.2 miles is still….HARD!

Not properly training for a marathon is just stupid…and I deserve the pain I’m about to endure.

The start. The wait. The prep before. All so familiar.

I don’t even have anxiety anymore. But there is a bit of energy that flows. Nervous energy about how I do. Regardless of my level of preparedness.

My fueling before is much different these days. Needing to be different for a diabetic.

March races can still be chilly….I hate chilly.

I’ve decided to do a run/walk…from the start…THAT makes me nervous.

Embarrassing in ways.

That’s pride talking.

I recognize that if I don’t want to feel like this, then I need to change.

I notice that people standing around cheering are very encouraging. Even after they’ve been standing out there forever watching the mostly boring parade….especially the end of the parade…where I am.

I count at the turnaround…I’m in 15th place….from the back.

I try to keep count over the race…it’s not that difficult.

I can tell you…I dislike when people pass me.

I can tell you…I sort of like it when I pass people….especially if they are young….absolutely when they are young!

I can tell you…it makes me smile just a little.

This old dude.

When you’re in a race and the gaps are far between runners…maybe walkers…the person in front of you looks back…sees you on their tail…they stop walking and begin running.

That makes me smile…just a little.

Maybe I’m encouraging them.

Maybe I’m challenging them.

Who wants this old dude to pass them. I could be their grandpa!

At this point…my heart is beating out of my chest.

At this point…my breathing is strained.

At this point…I question my sanity.

Clearly I’m insane.

Clearly at 60 years old wisdom still eludes me.

Music makes the miles drift.

Certain songs are motivational.

You CANNOT walk with The Rocky theme song when it comes on. It’s impossible!

For that matter…you can’t walk when Kung Fu Fighting comes on either!

I saw Elvis singing during the race. Took a selfie with him as we sang Nothin but a Hound Dog together….I don’t know the lines…but I could be crying all the time!  At this point anyway.

I smile and perform for the camera man. I know where they will be. Can’t be caught walking. Look strong!

Pretend.

Once you pass….walk again.

I find I’m a joker during the race.

Trying to encourage those around me. The police, the water stops, the other runners, anyone…be funny…it hurts less.

Best part of any race is seeing family. My wife is truly amazing. Driving around to catch me at spots during the race. Encouraging me. Asking me if I need anything….just seeing her is the best.

Always.

I whine a little. She tells me to suck it up….she doesn’t…but she should!

The final turns.

Where could I have drove to instead…. all these hours running?

Definitely somewhere more relaxing.

Definitely somewhere more peaceful.

Definitely somewhere many miles away.

But not as epic.

Anyone can drive.

Not everyone can run 26.2 at age 60.

I know the course.

Done it several times.

Know the water stops.

Know the illusion of almost there.

Yes….there are still people yelling you’re almost there.

I am not!

But I will be.

You break down the last of the miles.

One more 10k.

One more 5k.

And so on…to something familiar.

You look at your watch. Dang you’re slow!

Oh yeah you knew that.

Toes hurt.

Pinky toes on right foot always pays the price.

Poor pinky!

Legs ache.

Thinking about kicking it in gear towards the end.

Fear my legs will cramp.

I have no gas left.

Energy soars with a little more than a mile remaining.

I see two of my grandsons.

They’ve come to encourage me.

It helps.

With the last mile.

A third grandson joins.

Makes me a happy grandpa.

We have a plan.

Not going to catch the three young runners ahead of me.

Not going to get caught by the one runner behind me.

100 yards.

See young granddaughter run to join us.

Who couldn’t smile.

Someone along the yells about kids running with their father.

I’m quick to correct…grand…father!

The final turn.

Little Natty less than two joins us.

Scooped up by a grandson.

Now that’s EPIC.

Me and 5 grandkids cross the finish.

It isn’t a good race for me.

But I knew it would be tough.

That’s what you get when you don’t train.

The pain will be your reward.

But this finish will be remembered.

Photo finish with five encouragers….blessings

Running with this old dude.

One asks afterwards how I’m even able to walk.

I know the pain.

It’s familiar.

It actually feels good.

I simply respond….

I just Get Comfortable with Being Uncomfortable.

What do I eat after a marathon another asks….ANYTHING I WANT!