Marathon Recap Part 2 - The Drive, the Pig Pens, and the First 20 Miles

Did I mention how awesome my family is? No? Well, they are. My aunt and grandmother flew in from New Jersey to cheer me on at the Flying Pig. Not only did they make the 600-mile trip, but their plane was delayed and they didn't get to their hotel until 3:00 Saturday morning. That didn't stop my Auntie Ann from getting up with me at 4:00 to drive me down to the Starting Line. She picked me up at 4:45 and we were on our way. I forced myself to eat my waffle, even though my stomach was doing backflips. It felt like I was eating sawdust. I checked the weather again. The rain was definitely headed our way.

When we got downtown, I hopped out of the car and went to find the bag check buses. Ann continued on to find my mom, because they were planning on following me around the city so that they could cheer for me at various points on the course. I knew that I would also be seeing my BFF around Mile 6 and my Running Buddy around Mile 14. I checked my stuff and then made my way toward the stadium to meet up with my running group. We wrote our names on strips of neon duct tape to stick to our race bibs, monitored the rainfall, and tied and re-tied our shoes while we chatted nervously about our plans for the race.

When 6:30 started to draw closer, we made our way out of the stadium and down toward the start corrals, or Pig Pens. My projected finish time of 4:00-4:30 earned me a place in Pig Pen C. As we made our way through the crowds, we heard the opening ceremonies begin. I panicked about not being in my Pig Pen and briefly considered hopping the fence, but then images of broken legs and sprained ankles shook me out of it, and I just kept going until I found an opening in the fence. "Blah blah blah, national anthem, blah blah blah, 30 SECONDS TO START!!, blah blah blah, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1! I don't even remember if there was a start gun or not.


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)

All I knew was that the crowd began to move forward. We shuffled along, foot by foot, slowly picking up the pace, until we were RUNNING! I crossed the Starting Line and hit the Garmin. Holy Cow! I'm running a fucking marathon!


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)

All of a sudden I was overcome with emotion and excitement, and I could feel my eyes starting to sting. I heard someone calling my name, and looked over to see my mom, her boyfriend, and my aunt waving and yelling from the crowd. I gave them a shout as I passed by. We were off! The first mile ticked away as we started over the first bridge. I looked down at my Garmin - right on track. I tried to take it all in - the excitement of the crowd, the shouts from the spectators, the fact that I was just one of thousands of people hauling ass through the streets of Cincinnati. I try and try to remember it, but it's all a blur. I was flying high.


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)

Second mile ticked by, and I was really happy with my pace. I kept telling myself over and over "Just keep it consistent. You don't have to push. Slow down a little, you'll need it at the end." Shortly after Mile 3, when we were crossing the Clay Wade Bailey Bridge, I knew that I was going to go for it. I was going to give it everything I had and try for that miracle 4:00 finish.


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)

It was still cool and rainy, but it was just the perfect combination for running a long, long way. We passed the bread factory, and I remember one of the other runners commenting about how good it smelled. So warm and inviting. Garmin beeped to tell me that we had gone 5 miles, and it was time to eat. I pulled out my Chomps and choked them down, grabbing a cup of water at the next stop. Hmm, that didn't feel quite right, I thought, as my stomach cramped up for a moment and I thought I was going to be sick. But I kept going, and the yucky feeling passed. I knew the hills were just ahead, and I kept reminding myself to slow down, take them slow. "Equal effort, not equal pace!" BFF would be waiting for me at the top of the first big hill, and then after that there would be one more steep climb before the rest was all downhill.

We turned the corner and I saw Gilbert Ave Hill looming large in front of me. The climb began. There was a band playing under the cover of the Greyhound Station at the base of the hill. I thought of my sister and wished she had been able to make the trip, too. There was a water stop towards the top of the first hill leg, staffed by a local running club. There was one big guy rapping for us - "It's Ga-to-RADE, Ga-to-RADE, Ga-to-RADE, in the GREEN cup!" I laughed out loud as I passed. I laughed even harder when I saw Spider Man handing out water cups.


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)

I started looking for my BFF as we ran into Eden Park. I was kind of sad to see that the relay station was ridiculously crowded, and I realized that I didn't stand a chance in hell at picking her out of the crowd, or vice versa. Onward! I turned my attention to the next piece of the climb, still reminding myself to slow down and take it easy. I was on the right track. Made it up to the top of the hill, and completely forgot to look to my right so that I could catch the amazing city view. I totally missed the most picturesque part of the course.

Me at Mile 6.5


Another mile of incline, and the worst of the course was over! The Half/Full Marathon split was just ahead, too. I got a high five from a spectator wearing a giant blue wig and holding a "High Five Guy" sign, then turned right at the split to follow the Full Marathon course.


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)

It felt good! I'm really doing it! I'm really running a marathon! And I'm going to smash my time goal, too! We ran past the Running Spot store, the home of my training group, where I got a high five from the guy in the Spot costume.

Then it was into Hyde Park.


(Source: Flying Pig Marathon)

I had picked up the pace a bit after the hills, and was still right on track to meet my goal. Garmin reminded me that it was time to eat, so I grabbed my second bunch of Chomps and went to town. Again, my stomach started bubbling and I instantly felt sick. Well, that's not good. I concentrated really hard on not puking and managed to pull through, but I was stuck - I needed that stuff to get through the race! I only ate half of them, figuring I'd be ok for a little while longer.

Me at Mile 12ish


Hyde Park came and went, including the super steep but mercifully short Paxton Hill and the 13.1 mile marker. Whee! Halfway there! Right on pace, too, with an average of 9:18/mile. Perfectly set up for negative splits and on track to meet all three of my time goals. Oh my, how wrong I was.

We headed into Mariemont. Around a few corners, up another short and steep hill, and then I saw my Running Buddy! Well, actually, I saw her car before I saw her. I smiled when I saw her triathalon bike stuffed into the backseat. I could hear her yelling - "Is that my Running Buddy?? It is!" She was carrying a "Free Hugs" sign, and at that point there was nothing that I needed more than a Free Hug. I had just tried to eat again, and my stomach was still staging a revolt. But I was too afraid to stop for a hug, because I thought that if I stopped running, I would never start again. And I still had a long way to go. 11 Miles, to be exact. The rain had stopped, and a sticky humidity was settling in to take its place. And it was hot. 65 degrees. Which doesn't sound very hot, but when you add in the humidity and the fact that we were on a fucking marathon course, it was HOT. Someone was handing out twizzlers, and I grabbed one in desperation, hoping that my stomach wouldn't reject the innocent candy the way it had rejected my Chomps. Complete failure. Even worse, my mouth was so dry that I could barely even chew the damn thing. I did something I never do - I threw it on the ground. I'm sorry, course clean-up crew - the mere smell of that cherry twizzler had me on the verge of throwing up. Please forgive me.

A little loop around town square, an obnoxiously steep hill in the worst place possible, and suddenly we were heading into the most difficult part of the course - Mile 17.5 and on was nothing but a looooooooooong stretch of flat road. I tried, again, to eat - one last ditch effort to get some kind of food calories in my body - but again, I couldn't manage to choke down more than one. I knew I was starting to get dehydrated, too. I never had quite mastered the whole drinking while running skill. I knew that I wasn't getting nearly enough water. I was sweating a ridiculous amount, but it had started letting up. I was covered in cakey salt. The humidity felt like it was pressing in on me, and I needed water in a bad way. The only option left was to walk through the next waterstop. It was coming up soon, after the 20-mile marker.