There is glory in winning a race, in being the first across the finish line.
There is glory in placing in your age group.
There is glory in racing and logging a PR.
But the inspiration is the last run/walker moving determinedly in front of the sweep vehicle, desperately trying to go fast enough not to be picked up and driven to the finish.
The inspiration is in watching those runners who put one foot in front of another, knowing that there are no prizes at the finish line for them but who know that the prize is self-satisfaction of finishing what one started.
The inspiration is in those runners who will still be out on the course, hours after the winners have streaked across the finish line, but who are determined to finish no matter how long it takes.
Sunday, 16 October 2011, was the 8th running of the Nike Women’s Marathon in San Francisco.
You know from an earlier post that I was a Nike Women’s Marathon (NWM) lottery winner. As with the San Jose Rock-n-Roll Half Marathon, my health issues and life in general made me set of goal of just finishing. Based on my SJRnR experience, I was secretly hoping for a 5 hour and 30 minutes finish. Ha!
What’s important to understand here is that I didn’t train for a marathon. I didn’t train for a half-marathon. Before the SJRnR, my longest run was a 9 mile training run. Before the NWM, my longest run was the SJRnR.
I arrived in San Francisco on Friday afternoon. After checking into the Nob Hill Motor Inn, I settled in, checked the map, and then headed off to Union Square for packet pick-up and the expo. I made my hotel reservations too late and all the hotels around Union Square were full. But the Nob Hill Motor Inn is a cute little spot with free parking in a nice little neighborhood. So even though it was 1-1/4 miles from the expo and the race start, I would consider staying there again.
In general, this race was the most disorganized race that I have participated in and I’ve participated in a few over the years. The signage at packet pick-up was limited. Volunteers weren’t at their stations. The ones that were at their stations were distracted and not focused.
Could it be that the loud music and the darkly-lit tent played a role in that? Perhaps.
I was disappointed that there wasn’t an expo. I was especially disappointed because when I had unpacked at the hotel, I discovered that I hadn’t packed a shirt for the race. It was probably because I couldn’t decide whether to run in a long-sleeve shirt or a short-sleeve shirt, figured that it would be a departure-time decision, and then forgot to pack the long-sleeve shirt I decided on. I asked about the expo and was pointed to the Niketown store across the street. Duh!
Niketown was also loud, crowded, and disorganized. But a very helpful young man showed me where the women’s shirts were and I was cooking with gas. Even though it would feel odd to race in a shirt that said, “NWM11,” I was set. I ended up finding another sporting good store just around the corner from my hotel and bought a plain shirt to run in so I didn’t have to wear the NWM11 shirt and feel weird on race day.
On race morning, I left the hotel at 0545 and walked in the darkness to Union Square. As I got closer to Union Square, other runners began to join me on the street and the energy level began to rise with the chatter of family members and runners.
At Union Square, it was electric. The big screen broadcast, the crowds, the music – great atmosphere. Except it was once again lacking signage or volunteers to help direct people. It took me forever to find the gear check station and when I finally reached the gear check, I walked into my worst nightmare. Being pinned in a crowd of people, unable to move, unable to see, unable to figure out what was going on…definitely a scary situation. And it turns out, it didn’t need to be that way. I finally got out by grabbing onto the shirt of a lady who was just pushing her way through the mass of people and thank goodness for that.
I checked my gear bag and walked into a nearby hotel to use the bathroom because I had no idea where the port-a-pottie lineup was and had no desire to fight my way back through the gear check scrum. The hotel employees were very kind – I was not the only runner taking advantage of proper toilets! – and I was soon back on the street, just in time for the starting ceremonies.
Start line at the 2011 Nike Women's Marathon
I checked my Garmin to make sure that it was set to go and then looked at the other wrist to check my Nike+ Sportband. That’s when I discovered that I had lost my Sportband in the gear check scrum. Boo, hiss. I wasn’t going to go back to look for it so I just settled in to wait for the start.
I felt great for the first 11 miles. I stopped to take pictures, tweeting and posting them to Facebook, and just generally enjoyed the energy of the crowd. Although the water stops were disorganized and poorly staffed, they served as a good walk break for me.
Alcatraz Island as seen from the 2nd H2O stop, NWM
When the half-marathoners split off from the marathoners, I suddenly found myself in a smaller group. I liked that I wasn’t having to run around Team-in-Training groups walking 4 or 5 across. I liked that it seemed quieter and calmer and I could concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. But that was also when I started questioning my decision to run the marathon!
Motivation for the hills
The remaining 14 miles were a long slog. The chocolate mile is a misnomer because it’s not a mile of chocolate, it’s just the point in the race where volunteers hand out squares of Ghiradelli chocolate. The Team-in-Training cheer teams were pretty demotivating if you weren’t a Team-in-Training member because they would cheer for Team-in-Training members and then go silent as non-Team-in-Training members passed. I realize that Team-in-Training runners and walkers “pay” for this motivation by raising money for leukemia research but it seems a little tacky for the cheer teams to just stop cheering for people who aren’t in the purple singlets.
I crossed the finish line – upright and smiling. I got my Tiffany box with my Tiffany finisher’s medal from the tuxedo’ed San Francisco Fire Department fireman, got my neon yellow Finisher t-shirt, and then moved on to get my finishing photo taken with a pair of SFFD firemen in tuxedos. I have to say these guys were good sports to put their arms around the waists of sweaty women!
NWM Finisher's Medal ~ Worth It!
Then it was on the bus back to Union Square and then the trek back to the Nob Hill Motor Inn. All in all, it was a good weekend. I was proud to finish even though it took forever. Would I run this race again? Now that I know what I’d be getting into, yes but I would prefer to actually train for the race this time.
Every day we make hundreds of decisions. Some of the decisions we make unconsciously – turning on a light when we enter a room, sitting in our “usual” seat in a conference room or on the bus, drinking coffee in the morning. We do these things because we’ve always done them so these actions seem natural and not decision points. But they are decision points.
If there’s enough natural light coming in from the window, we don’t need to turn on a light but the amount of natural light coming in usually doesn’t register until we’ve taken that automatic action of turning on the light. We could choose to drink tea in the morning or water but we reach for coffee because that’s what we’ve always drank in the morning. We make these unconscious decisions throughout the day.
Then there are the conscious decisions we make – where to go to lunch, which emails to respond to, which task we tackle first. Which race to enter. Whether to enter a race.
I’m toying with the idea of entering a triathlon in December, which would give me just about 3 months to prepare for it. Did I mention that I’m running a half-marathon in 3 weeks? And a marathon 2 weeks after that? And another half-marathon 4 weeks after that? And that I’m not really comfortable in the water?
That last one is why I’m only toying with the idea of entering the race. Although I took swim lessons as a child, a traumatic incident instilled a fear of deep water that I never faced until last year. I’m still not really comfortable in the water. It takes me several laps – with long pauses at the wall after each lap – to go from desperately swimming just to get to the other side to being comfortable enough to focus on improving my form or to work on a drill. You wouldn’t know it because I’ve picked up surfing and stand-up paddle-boarding in the meantime. I’ve even tried discovery SCUBA dives. But I’m not comfortable in the water.
So this is a crossroads for me. Do I go or do I stay? By “go” I mean enter the race and “stay” means spending more time preparing and getting comfortable in the water. Do I enter this reverse triathlon (run, bike, swim instead of swim, bike run)? Will I be ready to swim 150 meters? Or do I wait until 2012 to participate in a triathlon? Do I spend more time getting more comfortable in the water before entering a race that involves swimming?
Confessions of a Treadmill Runner 