The time had finally come, it was marathon weekend. Chrysa and I had trained diligently throughout the winter and into the spring. It was time to put our training to the test. But first we had to get to Buffalo.
Chrysa and I are great road trippers. Put us in a car and tell us to drive cross country and we will do it without an issue. No relationship ending fights or anything. Air travel is another thing entirely. Chrysa stresses about time tables and I could puke at a moment’s notice. When Chrysa and I are confronted with the prospect of airports and car rentals, we transform from an easygoing fun loving couple, to a bad movie couple bickering in the terminal.
Happily, this particular trip wasn’t plagued by our usual air travel woes. We got to the airports on time and had a very smooth ride in both directions. I didn’t even barf on the plane.
We arrived in Buffalo and drove over to my mom’s house. Mom had food ready for us (she is the best). We were pretty tired after traveling all the way from Rapid City. The trip involved a six hour car ride to Denver followed by the flights. After our late dinner it was time for bed.
Saturday we got up and had a wonderful breakfast prepared by Mom. We then went downtown to meet Jay for the expo and packet pickup.
We parked on Elmwood and walked around the farmers market that was going on. It was a beautiful day so we walked a few blocks to meet up with Jay and some friends for lunch.
We made it to the expo and checked it out for a while. While not the biggest expo we have been to, it did have some interesting stuff, and some good deals. We picked up some odds and ends and even a new pair of running shorts for me.
Chrysa’s parents came to Buffalo for the weekend. It was a really nice treat to see them again. My mom made dinner and we sat and ate as a family. The food was really good. After eating we turned in early. Sunday was the big day!
The start of the marathon couldn’t have gone better. We drove downtown, parked, found the starting line, and soaked in the pre-race atmosphere. The early morning race conditions were perfect. The skies were clear and it was cool with a light breeze. As we loaded into our corrals I was feeling confident. I really wanted to run a sub 4 hour marathon. I knew I had the ability. I had endured the winter training. I had pounded away on the treadmill. I had done my 18 miler in Buffalo, and it had felt good. I had done my 20 miler in Rapid City, and it felt bad. But, that was at a much higher elevation. I was going to conquer this course. The day would be mine.
It wasn’t.
The gun went off and the race started. I breezed through the first 13 miles. I was running at exactly the pace I wanted to run. My legs felt good and I had none of the IT Band problems that I occasionally plague me.
The problems started between miles 15 and 17. The temperature started to rise around the half marathon mark. By mile 15 it was pretty warm and by mile 17 I was sweating. My legs also started to feel odd and my pace began to slip. Stiffness set into my legs and I couldn’t really figure out what the problem was. I soldiered on until everything fell apart. My legs completely locked up. The cramping was so bad that I actually came to a complete halt. I was dead in the water and the pain was so bad that I began to feel concerned that I would even finish the race.
Mile 21 was the breaking point. I don’t really know how I got to mile marker 21 but I was done. I called Chrysa (who had finished the half marathon by this point) and told her I was going to withdraw. She was going to report my DNF and I was going to wait for someone to get me. I wasn’t going any further.
I took off my bib and my water belt and tried my best to accept the fact that I failed. I was emotionally crushed. All that hard work down the shitter. Cramping was something I had never anticipated. It certainly wasn’t something I had a problem with in the past.
After a few minutes of sitting under a tree and feeling sorry for myself I called Chrysa. My amazing wife had not found an official yet to report my DNF. Instead, she talked my out of my funk. She told me that she would find me and walk me to the finish line if she had to.
Chrysa gave me a pep talk that got me off my ass and got me back on the road. My bib was back on and I was moving forward. The breather must have done me some good. My legs had unlocked enough to walk, and after a mile or so I was able to jog. I was in a lot of pain but it dissipated when I spotted my wife on the street in front of me. She jogged/walked with me for the last couple miles until I rounded the bend to the finish.
To this day I don’t know how I got through that race. I do know this, I finished it running, not walking. All considered 4:31 isn’t so bad. Actually… I do know how I finished. My amazing wife got me through it. I really don’t know what I would do without her.
Chrysa and Jay had much better races than I did. They both looked great after the run, all smiles and PR’s. I was really happy for both of them!
We celebrated their successes back at mom’s house with food and drinks and hot tubing. Chrysa, Jay and I were joined by a fellow runner, Pat and later Margaux. It was a great time hanging out after a grueling day. Laughter and booze really takes your mind off of achy legs.
The flights back to Denver were uneventful. The drive from Denver was a little more adventurous. We drove through Wyoming and had a nice lunch at a diner. We discovered a town with a population of 76. And we had to stop for a herd of goats.
It was good to be home. Now it’s time to plan for the rest of the summer. I think I am going to do some shorter distances. I think Chrysa can carry the torch for the distance runners for a while. She is already making noises about doing another full!
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