Done and one

I did it. I finished the marathon. “Finished” being the keyword there. It was grueling, not just because of the 26.2 mile length, but because of the 92 degree temperature it reached. Black flags lined the course to warn runners that the conditions for this marathon were at their most risky. I saw people in med-tents along the way breathing heavily into oxygen masks, crying that they had to stop. Two young women were helping each other along the way; “Keep moving, a few more miles and it will be cooler, I promise”. Needless to say, it didn’t get cooler. One good cool breeze hit the group I was with after about 5 miles. After that, there wasn’t much relief to be had from Superior.

I was thinking that I’d do a mile-by-mile log funny log of my marathon adventure, but I won’t. Just some highlights.

Race start:

Woke up before 5 am, drove to Two Harbors and arrived at about 6:15. Took a bus from a local grocery store to the start line. Lots of porta-potties and 8000 people to use them (not that they didn't- more later). We all lined up according to where we thought we might finish time-wise. I chose the 5 hour mark. National Anthem. Blue Angels flying overhead. "Chariots of Fire" and "Star Trek: TNG" theme. Waves of runners poured forward, walking faster towards the start line. Then jogging. 6 minutes, 10 seconds on the clock when I cross. It has begun.

Miles 1-5:

About a dozen people are seen pissing on the side of the course as I run by. 11 men, 1 woman. Classy. No personal responsibility. Take care of business beforehand; I can't imagine being a property owner and watching idiots pissing on my lawn and on my bushes. Horray for Grandma's!

It is muggy. Not bad, but I can't wait for that Lake Superior breeze to come. Oh, there it is. Ahhhhhh.

Miles 6-13:

Making good time. The water stops are plentiful and necessary. The locals and volunteers are great. The running lines are starting to thin out. I try and pace myself with people I saw at the beginning of the race. I eventually lose sight of them, either passing them or they passing me. One man has a sign on his back: "50th State/ 100th Marathon".

No more breeze. Instead, a hot wind.

A younger dude starts a conversation with me. He's run a few of these. He is running for a 5 hour pace like me. He thinks it's cool that my first marathon is at 38 years of age. He says that he'll see me at the finish line.

I am starting to feel done. It is hot and muggy with no real relief.

Mile 14:

A bug flies in my mouth. It takes 4 attemps to spit it out as it claws into my tongue. Gross. A guy running with his wife notices me spitting and shares a chuckle.

"A bug flew in my mouth."

"Well, at least you got your protein today."

"I'm a vegetarian."

"Ha ha."

"Hah hah."

Mile 15-20:

More stopping to walk. Water feels good when I pour it over my head; shocking, really. I see a woman crying in a med-tent as she breathes with an oxygen mask with her boyfriend by her side. Another young woman keeps stopping as her friend tries to coax her to run "a few more miles, then it will get cooler". In retrospect, it doesn't.

Mile 21:

My mind is going... I can feel it....

Mile 22-23:

A blur. I know that stopping entered my head about 3 times, but I gain a bit of running strength by walking most of the time, with 100 yard jaunts in between.

Mile 24:

The 5:30 pace people pass me. The woman leading them doesn't shut up, but skillfully guides her group in between walking and running. We are on the outskirts of Duluth and are about to climb a small bridge into downtown. I try to keep pace with the 5:30 people, but I eventually decide that it's too much to do. I let them go on up ahead as I come to terms that I am finishing this thing slower than what I anticipated.

Mile 25:

I am in downtown Duluth. Running for a block, and walking for a block. The locals are great at cheering the runners on. I stay away from the college kids giving free beer bong shots to runners. Too much. I'll enjoy a beer later.

Mile 26:

Final stretch. I am running more now. I watched Amy come in along this stretch 2 years ago, so I know that the end is near. I feel more energy knowing I am almost done. A photographer sitting above the course snaps my photo.

Final Stetch and Finish:




I pace myself by walking a bit, but wanting to finish strong. I hear a local shout "Only a block to go!". I start to run. Under the bridge and around the corner to the left as the course winds around the lake front. Fans line the sides of the final 100 yard stretch. I bolt down the course and hear my name along with others announced over the loudspeakers.











And we're done. I get a medal around my neck and photo snapped. I greet Amy, get a nice little kiss and sit down on the curb by her despite the fence barrier in between us. I drink water and get a granola bar that the woman next to Amy who's waiting for her husband gives me. Delicious. Glad it's over.


We hobble over towards the car ramp, but not before we stop to enjoy a root beer and a giant peanut butter cup at the local chocolate shoppe. I think I've burned enough calories to enjoy it. Later, I see through a skyway window a billboard outside with the temperature on it.



92 degrees. Ignorance is bliss.



Will I do this again? Well, dammit, I just HAVE to beat that 5 hour mark...