"Wall" You Need is Love: Tebowing in Charleston
Please, someone give me an electrolyte sledgehammer!
I'm tired of hitting "the Wall" during my marathons, as was the case in Charleston last weekend.
I trained so hard, for so long, and I thought I worked out all my nutritional bugs.
Apparently I was wrong, very wrong.
It was as if someone dropped a concrete barricade in front of me around mile 17 — not the biggest or worst "Wall" I've ever hit, but still "The Wall."
I hate "the Wall."
"Wall" is a four-letter word that inspires a slew of other four-letter words in me.
If you want to see me transformed from my normally mild-mannered self into "psycho crazy runner-bitch" give me "the WALL."
I become a garbage pit of obscenities.
It ain't pretty, not like this funky, cool wall we saw along the beach in Charleston ...
"Wall you need is love"
My marathon"Wall" gave me NO LOVE and it totally blind-sided me as they often can — never saw it coming and never expected it.
Before and during the race I drank and ate everything that normally works for me on long training runs and it failed.
That's dialogue for a future post.
My troubles began around mile 17. I dropped my iPod accidentally. I wore capri tights, a tank top and arm warmers for racing. It was in the 30s at the start and it warmed up to about 50 degrees by the finish. The wind was brutal the whole time we were in Charleston. It sucked on race day. It didn't matter which way we turned, it was relentless.
I went to adjust my arm warmers. My iPod flew off and hit the ground several feet behind me. (I normally don't wear music but I had my iPod, just in case, for a boost the last few miles.)
I ran back to where my iPod was, reached down to grab it and my entire midsection began to cramp and spasm.
Cramping is a classic sign of dehydration and electrolyte imbalance — we learned this in my RRCA coaching training.
I knew then and there my race in terms of my goal pace and time was probably over.
From that point forward my body kept breaking down and my breathing was labored.
I continued to take Gatorade and water at all the aid stations and ate my last PowerGel, but it made no difference. I fought the cramping the rest of the way.
A Southern drawl of a race ... full of twists and turns, looooonng on charm ...
I took advantage of my iPod and it helped some.
If I had planned better I should have added some Southern-fried music like Leonard Skynyrd to my mix. After all, they service shrimp and grits at the finish of the Charleston Marathon.
("Give me three steps, give me steps (toward the finish) and you won't see me no mo'.")
The course itself was pretty good — fast and mostly scenic. It started in the downtown and wound through the shopping district. You saw nice neighborhood at the beginning and as you continued some not-so-monied areas, too.
There was one single, little climb, over a bridge at mile 7. The course turned many times and eventually headed toward the city's naval yard where it finished.
A treat from home: A Colorado Columbines friend, Tookie, has family in the Charleston area and she arranged to have Columbines signs cheering us on placed throughout the course. That was awesome!
This was the second year the organizers have staged it. Overall it was well done — plenty of volunteers and people and supplies at aid stations.
I honestly only have a few criticisms: One, the course twisted and turned a lot, which I don't care for and makes for a little slower running and finish times; and two, the last six miles by the naval yard sucked. If anything needs to be changed, it's that section.
You run the last six miles out by the seaport, not able to see where you will turn around and then you go back the same way. You can see people who've already turned back and it feels like you are on the stretch forever. It's demoralizing and boring.
Also, that last stretch is full or potholes and uneven footing. I think all of us from our group who finished the marathon felt knee pains from it. You have to make two turns the last half mile to finish — not ideal.
Right around mile 20 I saw a man wearing a shirt with these words written on the back, "I have fought the good fight. I have finished the course. I have kept the faith." (New American Standard Bible, 2 Timothy 4:7)
Repeating those words, my own mantras, and my willpower pushed me to the finish. I never walked. I never gave up and it was painful.
I finished. I'll take that.
A few days later when I posted my race time (4:13) on Facebook one friend commented that this race was "my Tebow moment."
That made me cry because it was true. This race, and forces that were out of my control, sought to bring me to my knees, just like "Tebowing." It took drive and faith to not let it get the better of me.
I'm not a huge football or Broncos fan but even with your head buried under a rock you can't ignore Tim Tebow these days.
More than his "Tebowing" bow before of the world, I admire Tim Tebow's humility — the way he seems to accept his fate whether he wins or loses. (I hope fame and cynicism never steal that quality from him.)
That's why I think people either love or loathe Tebow. They are drawn to his light. He inspires many and irks the cynics or those who are jealous.
I draw this analogy because running is a spiritual path for me. The hardest thing isn't hitting the wall but acceptance of it — keeping the faith — whether the race turns out the way I hoped and planned, or not.
Isn't that the way many true tests are in life — running and otherwise?
In that respect I don't think it matters if you are Christian or not — fate always finds ways to test us and our moxie.
At Charleston I can say I never gave up.
I fought the good fight. I finished the race. I kept the faith.
With faith and grace (and continued training), there will be other races and perhaps another "Tebow touchdown moment" or two left in me.
I have no regrets. Charleston and her pretty seaside treated us well.
My friends and I visited Fort Sumter and took in some American Civil War history. We shopped downtown at the famous marketplace and Broad Street. We ate good seafood. We stayed at a beach house and walked along the sandy shores.
Life was good the four days we were there.
I have more to share, including my newest goal, but I will stop here today.
One hint: I'm "streaking." (Mind out of the gutter, folks; I'm keeping my clothes for this "running streak.")
Thank you Charleston. You were good to us.
It's great to be home again.
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"Aging is inevitable, but growing old is a choice. Lace up your shoes, and let's go!"
Mileage yesterday: 3.1 Mileage for 2012 so far: 75.3
Well written. Thanks.
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Thank you!!
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Nicely written. Your courage and determination show through. I hope to keep as positive as you.
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