AnywhereFit Iceland-Reykjavik Marathon August 21, 2011

1 CommentMonday • August 29, 2011 • by cfprovidence

On Wednesday prior I signed the list to say I was going to participate in the full marathon on Saturday.  I had never done a marathon, did not train for it, and had never run for more than 5 miles before.  I wanted to test my mental and physical fortitude and see if I had it in me to complete it.  Needless to say, my preparation for it the next two days was not ideal for someone about to run 42KM, 26.2 miles.  The group, myself included, did heavy squats on the beach on Thursday, and then a long chipper on Friday.  This along with many hours on a bus is not something I would recommend if you are planning to run one yourself.  No training, no taper, no real preparation except making sure the sneakers were tied, potential chafing spots were attended to, and looking good.

I was extremely nervous.  26.2 is a long way.  I did not truly care what my time was from the start.  I had hoped to beat Oprah’s time, but completion was my goal.  There were eight of our group running the marathon, Kris and Nick, from Sweden and Australia respectively, were the rabbits in the group.  The rest of the group was comprised of an 18 year old stud from England (Tom), a 42 year old who had one of the greatest personalities I have ever met (Paul), another 40 something who had completed a marathon before (Steve), a young Oklahoman(Josh), Gino and me.  The gun went off, and away we went.  I did not go out fast, and tried to keep a steady pace.  After running for 40 minutes, I entered unchartered territory for me.  Each step was a new milestone.  I had never been running for that long, ever.

The first 10K went by no problem.  The second 10K was harder than the first, but not too bad.  I had been running with Josh, so far, and while we did not talk, we were each listening to our own music, it was comforting running with someone.  Just before the halfway point, he dropped out due to foot issues.  For me this sucked, as it meant I was alone.  I could not see any other members of our group.  You can do this I told myself out loud, and I kept on running.  Just before I got to the halfway point, I did run into another member of our group, Steve, and ran with him.  At the halfway point, I felt okay.  Feet hurt a bit, some muscles ached, wind was never an issue.  I was psyched at this point, as I had just completed a half marathon.   From the 21K mark to the 25K mark (15.5 miles) pain started to seep into my body like I have not experienced before.  My lower body started to tighten.  Every inch of glutes, hamstrings, quads, and calves had screeching pain.  I started to feel every rep of the past two days workouts.  Each and every one of the 100 lunges, or the 50 Power Snatches.  I needed to stop and stretch, and I said “good-bye” to Steve.  As he went off he said, “whatever, you do, do not quit!”

The 25K mark to the 30K mark was torturous.  I walked much more than I ran.  The pain was excruciating.  The intensity of the pain affected my mental state.  Self-doubt started to set in.  I cannot finish this if I feel this way. Look at these people passing you, what is wrong with you.  Frustration and despair set in, making the physical pain even more intense.  Luckily I did not pass a “quitter’s” shuttle.  I am not sure what I would have done if the easy out option was there.  My mind was getting the better of me as the pain with each step grew.  It also did not help that this part of the course was the loneliest part.  The scenery was beautiful.  The solitude was agony.  The first 21K had been through the city and it was uplifting running past onlookers cheering and banging pots and pans in support of the runners.  Where I was now, was lonely.

I had almost convinced myself I could not finish.  The pain of every step overwhelmed my tired brain.  Somehow, someway I snapped myself out of it.  I got the voice saying “you cannot do this” out of my head.  Steve’s words crept back in.  “Whatever, you do, do NOT quit” I told myself over and over.  I confirmed in my head that I would finish the entire race, no matter how long it took me, even if I had to walk, limp or crawl over the line.  I knew that the rest of the group was waiting for me at the finish line.  I did not want to let them down.  I did not want to disappoint them.  Maybe it would not matter if I quit to them, as just attempting the task was solid enough, but pride and not wanting to disappoint kept me going.

By 30K, my body was shut down, but my mind was feeling stronger.  The pain was just as intense as before but I looked at the 30K mark as a new beginning.  You can do this, I told myself.  I then set a plan for the last 12K.  I broke it down into manageable tasks for myself.  Five sets of run 1K, walk 1K, than run the last 2K.  You can do this.  I started to run.  Each and every step hurt.  I came upon Gino.  He was walking.  I am done he said, I have nothing left. (Those may have not been his exact words, but this is what I comprehended at the moment)  He was experiencing the same issues I was.  He possibly was in doubt if he could finish.  Relief set in.  I thought I was the only one struggling.  I thought I was the only one in doubt.  Gino and I have had a strong relationship and have relied on one another over the past two years, especially in training (for everything else BUT a marathon, who would train for one of those?).  I knew at that moment both he and I would finish.  We would find a way to get each other over that finish line.  I told him my plan, and off we went, together, running one kilometer than walking the next, for five sets.  I was still in pain, but with the Gino’s support, the pain was not as intense.

At the 40K mark we were approaching the city again.  Last two kilometers, you just have to run a mile and a quarter.  I knew I would finish.  Off we went.  Into the city and down that last stretch I went.  As I neared the finish line, I looked to the side and saw all the members of our group cheering and shouting my name.  I crossed the line, and embraced Gino.  We finished it.  It was quite an emotional experience for me.  It took about five minutes to get back to the group once I crossed the line.  I hugged Megan and others in the group, and the tears filled my eyes.  I almost broke down, as for me, finishing was one of the most emotional experiences of my life.  I had never tested my body or mind like that before.  I had never felt that much continuous pain.  I had never experienced, and overcame such mental agony.  I was proud of myself.

There were three things instrumental in finishing.  First, Steve’s words, whatever you do, don’t quit, kept ringing through my head.  I wanted to quit, but just kept on.  Second, sharing the pain and suffering with Gino, during the last stretch.  Having a great friend, who was experiencing the exact same issues, as I was, helped pull me along to the end.  Lastly, having a community of supporters, who I knew was waiting for me at the finish line, and not wanting to let them down, helped me muster up the courage to put the pain aside, and finish.  My time to me is not important.  Finishing, and not quitting was.  Another time, another place, different circumstances, without the community around me, I may have dropped out, but I could not do that here.  Finishing the marathon was the storybook ending to a fairy tale trip.