There is nothing like the love of a parent for a child. When Alicia was born, I discovered that type of love. It’s hard to describe. When Marilyn told me she was pregnant, I was worried. I didn’t know anything about raising a child! When I was in the delivery room, I watched as Alicia’s face appeared and she looked right at me! At that moment, I knew what paternal love is all about—it’s unconditional, no-holds-barred head-over-heels love. Nothing can take it away.
A couple of years later, Marilyn told me she was pregnant again. Again I was worried. I loved Alicia so much, how could I ever love another child so much? Would I have to “split” my love for them? Again, I didn’t have to worry. The minute Sarah was born, God gave me the grace to multiply my paternal love. I love each of my daughters the same—boundlessly. It has given me an understanding of just how much our Heavenly Father must love each of us! And he proved it to me today.
In the midst of our grief this week and last, I have been aching to be able to go with the family on this Sunday to Sacramento and welcome Sarah at the finish line as she finished her first-ever marathon. After all, I made a commitment to be a Eucharistic Minister and take our Lord to the hospital and to some homebound parishioners, and that commitment is very important to me. It’s also a little selfish, because it’s spiritually rewarding for me.
When I was told that she would be finishing about noon, I started calculating how to make it work. Certain things would have to happen for me to be able to make it on time. First, I would have to go to the 8:30 Mass. No problem. Check that off my list. That would leave me one hour to visit the patients at the hospital and two homebound parishioners, because I had to leave Lodi by 10:30 to make it to Sacramento on time to see Sarah’s finish. It usually takes about 2 hours to perform my pastoral care, so I was pretty concerned I would have to miss out on her accomplishment. During Mass this morning, my mind was still trying to reconcile the logistics of my dilemma. I used the Prayer of the Faithful to issue 4 petitions "in the silence of my heart". I prayed that the souls of my brother Bob, Wendy's father, and my friend Joe would be caught up in the Mercy of Jesus so they may share in the beatific vision of the Father. My fourth petition was, “Father, you are the greatest father of us all. You know how much I want to share in Sarah’s accomplishment. If it is your Will, please find a way for me to be there.”
After Mass, I went up to get the hosts for the hospital, and my good friend and co-pastoral care minister told me she had made arrangements for someone else to make the hospital rounds today! That left me with the responsibility of caring for only two homebound people! I was going to make it! Not only was I able to get to Sacramento on time, I made it with about a half-hour to spare! And, I didn’t have to pay for parking, because a spot opened up for me right across the street from the Capitol building, which is where the finish line was set up! Praise God for His loving understanding of my need to support my daughter!
What an accomplishment for Sarah as well! I am so proud of her. She is pretty proud of herself, as well she should be. This evening, she sent a short(!) journal of her experience that I thought would be nice to share. I hope Sarah doesn’t mind, but I edited some of it for length, and also because I thought the most interesting parts were her struggles with herself in overcoming her mental trepidations, as well as the physical challenges the run presented. So, here is Sarah’s analysis and observations of her performance as only she can tell them.
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| For more photos, go to http://s744.photobucket.com/albums/xx86/raggandi/A%20first%20for%20Sarah/ |
December 5, 2010 California International Marathon
Two years ago I had never run more than a mile. As a kid, I’d avoid P.E. like the plague. Now here I am, a marathoner! I just finished the California International Marathon. It still hasn’t hit me yet. I can’t believe I did it!
It all started when my good friend Caryn Crosthwait asked if I wanted to train with her for the 2009 Shamrock’n Half Marathon. We signed up for a training group and went into it with an open mind. I joined the run/walk training group hoping I’d learn to run a few miles. I ended up switching to the run group midway through and ran the entire race.
One of my most vivid memories from that training program was during a long weekend run. I felt great, healthy, strong, like my body was doing what it was built to do. Six weeks before, I’d never run more than a mile, but during that run I passed one of my coaches and shouted “I’m going to run a marathon before I’m 30!” I didn’t know if I really meant it after I said it, so I just stuck it in the back of my mind.
When I started dating Tony, we decided to train together for my second and third half marathons. I got faster and stronger every time. Tony taught me a lot about not only the physical aspects of distance running, but also the mental aspects of it. He showed me that I could improve my physical race just by improving my mental race. Through his example (70.3 without training, 26.2 while sick – jeeze) and his words, he convinced me that I was capable of far more than I would have ever thought. I’ve never played a sport. I hated sports. I have always envisioned myself as weak, not athletic, always at the back of the pack. Tony has consistently reminded me that there is no reason to believe that, and that I can be whatever kind of athlete I choose to be. So I decided I wanted to be a marathon runner.
I knew if I did run a marathon, I’d want CIM to be my first. The course goes from Folsom to Sacramento, and the finish line is a block and a half from my office. It’s as local as you can get, plus I’d read it was fast and a good race for first-timers. CIM is always in December. I turn 29 in February, so I knew if I wanted to do a marathon before I was 30, I could attempt to do it this year, then if I failed, I still could do it in 2011 and finish a few months before my 30th birthday. After asking Tony, Caryn, and a Fleet Feet coach what they thought, I decided to sign up for the Fleet Feet training group for CIM.
Training went well. The first part of training got us through the Urban Cow Half Marathon, my favorite half marathon course (because it starts and finishes at the park across the street from my apartment). I wanted to do the half in less than 2 hours but missed my goal by 50 seconds. I blame a bad fueling plan and starting out too fast. But the training was flawless. I trained hard and smart, and really improved my running. I went into the second half of the training feeling great. When I did my first more-than-half-marathon-distance training run at 15 miles, I did a mostly uphill route and did great. The next week, I ran 17 miles in terrible wind and rain. The next week, I got a pain in my butt/upper thigh that I just could not shake. I kind of couldn’t walk or sit correctly. I was so frustrated! I started to really freak out, thinking I might not be able to finish the program and meet my goal. By then I’d come so far and I wasn’t going to let anything get in my way. I ran 20 miles not knowing what would happen. Luckily, it got better. I spent 10 of the most painful minutes of my life with this sports injury guy, and whatever he did made it better, thank goodness. Still, I was nervous about doing long-term damage and/or not finishing, so I really took my training down a notch. I skipped the 22 miler and I focused on staying healthy. My coaches said if I could run 20 miles, I could run 26.2. Ultimately, I think I could have and should have trained harder the last several weeks, of training, but live and learn. I still finished.
I was kind of a nervous wreck the week before the race. Whenever I saw the capitol building (which is daily) I’d burst into tears. I made 5 race-related lists. I obsessed about the chance of rain. And I think I psyched myself out a little bit, too. Driving the course helped demystify it, but I couldn’t help thinking “they drop you off in Folsom in the dead of winter and make you run home. Shit.”
This morning went pretty smoothly. We got downtown right at 5am, got a parking spot right across the Citizen Hotel where there were buses lined up, and were on the road by 5:15. There was a HUGE line outside the Sheraton, which was where we had originally planned to go. The buses got us to the start line around 6:15. We went straight for the porta-potties, just like everyone else. Then we went back to the bus to get our stuff in order and I fretted over whether to bring a long sleeved shirt and/or a rain jacket. I ended up bringing both, ditching the long-sleeved shirt at mile 2 or so, and the jacket soon after. (Thank goodness it wasn’t raining, and thank goodness it wasn’t 28 degrees like it was last year. I was so thankful for the wonderful weather. Running in shorts and a t-shirt on a December morning? Thank you God for giving me great weather and allowing me to live in sunny California!) We waited like less than 5 minutes at the start line. The timing could not have been better.
We found our friend Jeff at the beginning, and stayed with him for a while. It was great to be able to run with him. It was super fun to watch him uncomfortably bodyglide himself. The race started easy and fun. The best line of the whole day, courtesy of an older runner: “You ran a 100-mile race? That must have been a good colon cleansing!”
The course is pretty downhill for the first mile or so. We jogged, chatted, ditched our clothes, and settled in easy through mile 5 or so. Even the hills felt ok at first. But then they didn’t. By mile 8, my feet hurt and my legs were starting to burn. I usually don’t feel like that until at least miles 13-15! Luckily we passed two of our Fleet Feet coaches around mile 10 or so, right on a gnarly hill. Coach Russ ran alongside me for a few yards and helped get me up the hill. He and his wife Tina were such amazing, nurturing, encouraging, inspirational coaches. I almost cried when I saw them, and they seemed genuinely excited to see me and help me.
I was struggling to get to the halfway point, and the hills were killing me. I walked up a few hills, which was frustrating but felt necessary. What kept me going was knowing that when I got to the half, my family would be there, and the hills would be almost over. When I saw my family near the half, I was so excited. My mom, grandma, aunt Vickie, cousin Paige, and niece Lily were there. And I was excited to see my sister Alicia there, since she had told me she had to work. Mostly though, I was excited to be able to stop and have them take my jacket. I was feeling crappy.
The next several miles were rough. My legs were starting to get really tight. The hills were hurting and psyching me out. My back started to really ache, too. And something was going wrong with my fueling and hydration plan. I felt like I needed the fuel and water, but that my digestive system was doing nothing but letting it slosh around in my insides and make me nauseous. None of these things on their own were unbearable, but in the aggregate they were enough to take me out mentally. I started taking a lot of walking breaks, and the walking breaks got longer and longer. It was not fun. Tony was being great. He was trying everything he could to keep me motivated. I wanted to quit, but both he and I knew I wouldn’t. He helped me get my head back in it. He made me recite some of the affirmations I’d written for myself the night before. He didn’t let me say negative things. He helped me alter my fueling plan and helped keep me running as much as possible. But it was tough. I felt like I was disappointing him and myself every time I’d start walking, but then when I would run, everything would hurt again and I’d have to stop. It was frustrating!
I didn’t have a solid goal time in mind. Mostly I just wanted to finish in time to get my medal (6 hours), but I assumed I’d be able to do it in less than 5 hours. Pace charts predicted I could do it in less than 4 and a half hours, but I wasn’t going to even worry about trying to do that. So I wasn’t watching the clock too much, but when I realized I wouldn’t make it in less than 5 hours, I was a little disappointed. We saw the 5 hour pace group pass us and that kind of sucked. What got me through though, was realizing around mile 18 or so that even if I walked the rest of the way, I’d finish in less than 6 hours. I was going achieve my goal of finishing the marathon today no matter what! That felt good.
Right around mile 19 we saw Coach Ryan riding his bike. He rode alongside me for a while and encouraged me. Just talking to him was a nice distraction. He told me I looked the same as I did during training runs, so I must be feeling ok. I felt bad, but I couldn’t articulate at that point what exactly was making me feel crappy, so I just tried to shut up and keep going. Ryan told me that it was going to get easier soon. He said we’d have to work hard mentally for only the next 2-3 miles, and then the last 3 or so miles would fly by since there would be so many spectators through midtown. I thought, ok, I can do that, and he ended up being right.
The race organizers put a “wall” at the mile 20 marker, since that’s when many people hit the wall, where they bonk and feel like they can’t go on. I feel like I’d hit my wall back at mile 14 and was beginning to get a bit of a second wind. I was thrilled to pass this point because it was such a mental block for me. The longest I’d ever run before was 20 miles. When I ran 20 in training, I couldn’t imagine having to run 6 more. But today, when I hit 20, I realized how right my coaches were – if you can run 20, you can run 26.2 I was so close.
At that point I also started to realize that I hadn’t used the bathroom since 6am. Oops. Maybe I lacked water. Maybe I was just too tired to know whether I had to go. Either way, I decided it’d be a good idea to take a potty break, if anything for the chance to sit down for a few seconds. Oh! And right before this was one of the best parts of the race. Someone was handing out orange slices. That was the best tasting, most refreshing thing ever.
The last few miles of the race are somewhat of a blur. It started going by fast and I started feeling better, but it was still a challenge. We had to walk a lot. It was by far the best part of the race though, despite the discomfort.
I started hyperventilating a little. That was scary. But I quickly got that under control without anyone noticing. That’s a BIG DEAL for me. I’ve battled anxiety and panic attacks for years, and health/safety issues like that area huge trigger. Being able to remain calm and get myself out of it within seconds is one of my biggest accomplishments in the last 5 years – no joke. I mean, normally if I hyperventilated, I’d stop everything and find myself an EMT, stat. That’d be the end of the day for me. But this time I was just like, hm, I’m hyperventilating, I should calm down. And I did that WHILE running a marathon. Holy cow what got into me? I even had chest pains off and on through the last several miles and was able to convince myself it was just muscle fatigue and kept going, even though my heart felt like it was racing. I mean, if that’s not an accomplishment for me, I don’t know what is.
At mile 25 we saw Russ and Tina again, which was super exciting. They were genuinely excited to see us finishing. They really cared about our training group, and having that support was priceless. Russ fixed my shoelaces once in training and took care of a chronic foot-numbing problem I’d bee having. He joked “that’s what the $150 gets you in this program.” Well, getting me up the hardest hill and getting me through the last mile and the genuine care for my success throughout the whole process was priceless, worth way more than the money I dropped on training.
When we got to Capitol Park, I was like, wow, this is really going to happen. For weeks, when I’d take my daily walk around the park (a one mile loop) at lunch, I’d walk that last part and imagine getting to the finish line. And now I was almost there! I passed my office and then we rounded the corner to the finish line. Tony and I grabbed hands and ran through together, as planned. Five hours, 14 minutes. Tony had to cross in the women’s chute, but he didn’t mind. And then I saw my smiling family! My dad was even able to make it, which was an awesome surprise.
I thought crossing the finish line would be more emotional, but I think at that point I was too tired to care all that much. It felt good, and it was exciting, but I wasn’t bawling like I expected to be. I also didn’t feel as terrible as I thought I might, which was actually a little frustrating. I thought, all that walking and whining and now I feel fine? I should have run faster! I shouldn’t have taken so many walking breaks! But then I think about the discomfort I’d been in earlier and let myself off the hook a little bit. Could I have done it faster? Yeah, probably, but I’m not going to beat myself up about it. It was still hard, and I finished, and I finished healthy, so I’m ok with that. I’m so thrilled to have finished at all.
My legs burned during the race (in fact at one point they started cramping up but Tony’s electrolyte pills saved me), but the worst burning I experienced was while waiting in line for the food. The line wasn’t too long, but felt so slow since we were both in pain. I think I darn near broke Tony’s legs. Going so slow and walking so much was not good for him. Our legs always feel worse when we go slow. They feel much better when we run fast, but that just wasn’t an option in this race. The long slow pounding took its toll on our legs. But the pain I felt waiting in this line wasn’t as bad as the pain I felt after my 20 mile training run, so that was cool, but again I felt like shoot, I should have run harder if I feel somewhat ok now. Shouldn’t I be puking or crying or falling over?
After we got food, we took a few pictures in front of the capitol and the Christmas tree. It was a nice setting. I definitely needed pictures of us in our medals and foil blankets. Dude, those space blankets were awesome. Who knew a piece of foil could be so comfy and warm. Coach Ryan had told us earlier that we wouldn’t want to take it off, and that turned out to be true.
I knew we needed to eat ASAP, but food sounded disgusting after the race. But seeing my family had left at 7am and it was after 1pm, I knew that even if we didn’t want to eat, they needed to, so we went to lunch at Dad's, a restaurant we like in my neighborhood. By the time the food came, I was ready to eat, and I ate quite a lot. It was great to be able to sit down, eat, and talk about the race. I was so glad my family was there.
Showering when I got home was awesome, as was putting my feet up. I thought about how badly we felt after we came home from backpacking and I realized I feel better now than I did after that. Again, I felt like “if I feel ok, maybe I should have worked harder!” But I can’t think like that. I have to remember, I finished a marathon. Holy cow, that’s a big deal.
So, the damage: one almost-injury which is pretty much fine now, one black toe which didn’t fall off (which I’m kind of disappointed about – no cool war wounds?), burning achy stiff legs, sore abs, sore back, sore arms, lats, and chest, a few blisters (but overall this wasn’t an issue because tech socks are a godsend), hardly any chafe because bodyglide is the most awesome thing ever invented, a few bloody toes during training runs, a lot of salty sweat, and not too many tears. Not bad!
The race was really well run. The staff and volunteers were great. I think I’d do this again. During the worst parts of the race I was thinking I didn’t want to, but as soon as I finished I started planning for my next races. I know I can do it. I know what I have to improve upon next time, too: more hill training, more consistent training at the end, a few more 20+mile runs, a better-practiced fueling and hydration plan, and more positive thinking. The mental stuff is the hardest and the most important. I’m frustrated that the mental stuff got to me, that I psyched myself out so many times, but I have to remember how bad I was a few years ago, when I wouldn’t even leave the house without a purse full of emergency supplies, an exit strategy in case I had a panic attack, and a whole lot of worry. I thought I was fragile. I never thought I’d run a marathon. No way. But I just did. I ran a marathon. I keep looking at my medal and going “California International Marathon. Wow.”
As much as I want to take credit for this accomplishment, I have to acknowledge the people who got me there. Tony, the friends and family who were out on the course, and the coaches made all the difference. I truly don’t think I could have finished without them. I would love to be able to do something like this by myself, but I’m not too proud to admit that I absolutely needed other people’s support. I am so grateful to everyone who came out, even the strangers. People’s kind words and encouragement got me across that finish line. My legs, my lungs, my strong will, those all helped, but it’s seeing friends and family on the sidelines that gave me what I needed to finish.
Wow. It still hasn’t completely hit me that I finished a marathon. And I got to do it with Tony by my side, which makes it that much sweeter. And I don’t feel too sore or tired. I guess that means I have to run faster next time!
Most of the parts I edited out of Sarah's narration were accounts of friends who were there along the way to help spur her on to this acheivement. I want to thank all of them as well for their encouragement, especially Tony--it takes a special kind of man to deliberately hold back from performing at his own top level of ability to support the woman he loves. Thank you so much.
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