Two Sundays ago I ran my first full: The Vermont City Marathon. I can't really put into words the euphoric, floating feeling that I've been experiencing ever since, in spite of the lingering soreness in my calves, hamstrings, quadriceps, adductors, glutes, and ankles.
At the risk of being crass, I found that it's kind of like losing your virginity. You build it up to be the Holy Grail of your existence; you start to wonder if you'll ever accomplish it; at a certain point it looms as a distinct and realistic possibility. Then it happens, and you feel, in a small way, that you're a different person; there was a you before and a you now, and those two people are not quite the same.
And in my case: I can't wait to do it (run a marathon, that is) again.
RunVermont, the organization that oversees this marathon, did a simply spectatular job. There is no better adjective. The race was incredibly well-staffed. Except for the long, lonely out-and-back stretch along rte 127 (aka the Burlington Beltline) that comprised miles 4-8, there were hordes of people cheering the runners on at every leg of the race. Thousands upon thousands of Vermonters and out-of-towners alike came out just to watch. Never have I smiled so broadly while running as I did when I saw someone holding a sign that read "Hey Complete Stranger! I'm Proud of You!" And this enthusiasm and impressive turnout was in spite of the fact that the starting gun was fired in the middle of a pretty heavy rain.
But the rain was actually a welcome element; for days leading up to the race, there had been murmurs about the possibility of temperatures in the high 80s. Ungodly humidity. A contingency plan for canceling the whole event in the case of extreme heat in the morning. None of this happened.
There are too many highlights to catalog here, but two things really stand out. At mile 15 was the notorious Assault on Battery Hill: a brutal uphill climb on Battery Street from the South End to Battery Park that rivals Heartbreak Hill in terms of steepness and length. This was the part of the race where crowd encouragement reached a fever pitch. Intellectually, I knew that the uphill was difficult, but I didn't feel it physically. The atmosphere was too overwhelmingly electric for my brain to clue my legs in that they should be hurting. At the bottom of this hill, a drumming corps played in such a way that suggested a march into battle. We could hear it from almost a mile away. It looked like this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u_pMtTmnnPs&feature=related
Then, of course, there was the last 4-mile stretch. My good friend Wayne, with whom I ran most of the race, had apprised me that the last 4 miles would be far harder than the the first 22 combined. This was absolutely accurate. Running has never been so painful or mentally discombobulating. By this point my legs were begging me to stop, my feet were blistered and both heels were bleeding into my running shoes. A medic at the Mile 24 marker told me my eyes looked glazed.
As I rounded the corner into Battery Park, two wonderful things happened. The first was that my favorite This Will Destroy You song hit its crescendo, and I don't think I'm physically capable of NOT digging in and speeding up when this happens. The second was that the final .2 miles comprised a gauntlet of cheering spectators. There's nothing quite like being in the final moments of accomplishing a 2-year goal while thousands of people cheer you on and reach out for high fives.
Anyway, the vitals:
3:33:29
8:08 Pace
325th out of 2,668 overall
43rd out of 187 in division (Men 30-34)
Huge thanks to Job and Olivia Larson for their incredible hospitality - it doesn't get much better than having a place to stay less than 3 blocks from the starting line.
Big high five to Wayne Pacileo. Sorry I missed New York registration. How about Chicago?
But most of all, love and sincere appreciation to Tianna Tagami, my biggest fan; without whom, I am certain, I would not have been able to do this.
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