All week, the weather channels were focused on one thing: Hurricane Sandy. An enormous, unique hurricane with rough winds, it was predicted to meet up with some wintry systems and high tides to create a "Frankenstorm." That Frankenstorm would go out into the Atlantic before deciding to turn around and body slam the east coast, including Maryland - where I live and around where the Marine Corps Marathon is.
Additionally, they predicted that the rain would start affecting us starting on Sunday.
I was expecting to be soaked wet for my first marathon. The night before, I packed a change of clothes, a towel, a trash bag, and handed it all to my parents for safekeeping. Then, I proceeded to lay awake in bed pumped with adrenaline and excitement before finally sleeping for only 4 hours.
On Sunday, I jumped out of bed, ate a small breakfast, and took whatever I thought would be needed (bib, phone, clothes, shoes, change of clothes). We drove to D.C. at around 5:40, and parked across from the Pentagon's North parking lot at around 6:10. We kind of just wandered around the starting line for the next hour or so. It was pretty dark outside, but soon enough, the Sun came out and the sky brightened. Well, actually, we never saw the Sun come out. The skies were completely covered with clouds, so we never got to see a single speck of blue. It wasn't raining yet, but we were still expecting the hurricane.
They offered some pre-race prayers around 6:45 and opened the gates to the corrals around 7:30. I stepped in the 5:00-5:29 corral. My goal was to break 5 hours, but I wanted to finish strong by starting easy, so I started with a group predicted to go just slightly slower than my race pace.
After the National Anthem and a flyover, they were ready to start the race. Rob Riggle fired the pistol, and the howitzer sounded, marking the start of the 37th Marine Corps Marathon. Of course, the majority of us actually didn't start yet. My corral had to wait at least 15 minutes or so before even reaching the starting line. I guess that's the downside of having to start over 23,000 people.
The first few miles were easy as we winded through the city. Although there were a few "hils," they felt more like slight inclines to me. I wanted to go at a 12:00 pace or so in the beginning, but my legs felt more comfortable at around a 11:00 pace. Everything felt smooth and easy. My mental strategy was to count the minutes down to the next mile and to treat the entire marathon as mile repeats. This worked particularly well in the first few miles as time flew by pretty quickly then.
We crossed the bridge and reached a point where the runners around me and I were entering a loop and the faster runners were coming out of it. It turned out to be a pretty long loop. We ran next to the canal, and I guess the scenery was okay, but we were soon met by a hill at the turnaround (around mile 7). Again, this hill did not feel particularly bad to me aside from the fact that I really had to go use the bathroom while climbing up it.
During mile 8, my primary goal was to locate a porta potty. I didn't feel any tiredness or pain, but I did feel my bladder. Important lesson learned here; make sure to use the bathroom as often as possible before a race, especially long-distance races.
At mile 8.5, I found some. Unfortunately, there were lines, and I lost about 5 minutes waiting for and using the porta potty. It was worth it, though. Although I had to speed up for the next 2 miles to make up some of the time, I didn't have to worry about the bathroom for a little while.
Primarily around mile 9 was Georgetown. The crowd support was awesome, and it brought a little bit of the city feel, which I liked.
I started to hurt a little bit starting from around mile 11. For the next few miles, we ran next to the water and saw the Jefferson Memorial and a golf course before curving back around, but after making a turn around mile 16, I didn't really have any sense of direction. All I knew was that I was following the people ahead of me, and that I saw a few monuments and museums along the way.
We made a few more turns, but I honestly didn't know where we were on the map or what mile we were at; to be honest, I was hurting too much to really care. At some point, my feet started hurting too. My longest run ever was 14.5 miles, so I was extremely under trained and entering unfamiliar territory. Still, I pushed through and avoided walking.
The course was nice, though, except for that winding and confusing part around the main D.C. area. If I were to go back in time to before the race, I would've probably looked at the course map better.
Then came the famous bridge at mile 20, which I assumed was the bridge we had to beat. Although many people considered this to be the lowest point of the race, I thought it wasn't too bad. I plodded along at my 12:00 pace (I had slowed downed considerably in the middle 10 miles of the marathon) without interruption, and I liked that it was slightly quieter. It gave me a chance to really focus on my own race. The only bad parts were that I noticed that the minutes for each mile seemed to pass by slower and that I had to use the bathroom again.
Finally, came Crystal City between miles 22 and 24. It was pretty awesome. I got to see the faster runners leave, and when I left, I got to see the runners after me come in. The "colorful Crystal City" was city-like (obviously), energetic, and filled with spectators blasting loud music. It kind of woke me up. I realized that I was almost done. I realized that holy bananas, I might actually make it through this freaking marathon. People hit the wall in the final miles, but somehow I hit the wall in the middle miles and caught a second wind for the final 10k.
They were handing out Dunkin' Donuts munchkins near mile 24, but I didn't take anything. After mile 23, I had one goal in mind: FINISH (and get to the bathrooms!). I had only 3.2 miles left then, which was pretty close to a 5k. I had run 5k's before, and they were incredibly short compared to marathons. I could definitely push through another 5k.
I sped up as much as possible without taxing my heart too much. Sprinting too hard at the end would probably be a bad idea, but I wanted a good time, so I went somewhere between an outright shift in gears and continuing on with my current pace.
The minutes passed by, and soon I had only 2.2 "mile repeats" and 1.2 "mile repeats" left. I was really excited at this point. The finish and the porta potties there were so close. I was so close to completing my first marathon - one that wasn't baptized by Sandy's rain, by the way. I noticed that lots of spectators were prepared with signs with hurricane puns on them, but the hurricane never hit during the race. That was actually pretty funny, though, which helped.
We were so close to the finish now. I ignored my urge to stop and heed nature's call and instead ran hard past the starting line to where we made the turn to the finish.
There was a hill there - a "steep" hill - but it felt like nothing. It was short and it didn't hurt at all. At this point, I was too filled with a desire to finish.
I hit my watch and stumbled past the finish line at 4:35. We were then directed to a few lines. There, a Marine placed the finisher's medal around my neck, congratulated me, and saluted me. That was one of the most amazing experiences ever.
I was elated (although my muscles were screaming in pain) as I was directed to where they took the finisher's picture and then to the hospitality lines. They passed out a goodie bag, Gatorade, some kind of box with food in it, bananas, a thin temperature-regulating jacket, and good ol' water.
I skipped the finish festival as I had to go to math tutoring after the marathon, but the marathon itself was incredible. The Marines, first of all, were outstanding. They provided motivation, support, and inspiration. Above all, there was the fact that their normal job was sacrificing themselves to protect America; helping a few runners accomplish a goal was just another good deed.
Also, the volunteers obviously and definitely helped. To put on a race of this magnitude requires support from all angles, and the volunteers certainly did their job and beyond during the MCM. A well-deserved "Thank you!" goes out to them.
Then, of course, there were the spectators. Whether there was an incoming hurricane or not, a huge amount of spectators still came and cheered for the runners, which was actually one of the great things about the MCM; there were so many people. Aside from the crowd support, they also provided candy, goldfish, and even beer (I'm not even close to 21, so I couldn't take any) along the course. That was pretty awesome.
The MCM course itself was a little hilly in the beginning and included a so-called "steep" hill in the end, but the rest of it was pretty flat. Surprisingly, the flat parts were the worst part of the marathon for me. The hills were actually not that bad if the runner has done at least some hill training. The course included pretty awesome views, too. It provided a great tour of D.C. and its nearby cities. I definitely enjoyed this marathon.
As for my own race, I had a inside-out sandwich. Great at the beginning, great at the end, with a terrible middle. I was proud of my time and my overall negative split. It wasn't too bad for a first-time teenager. Although I didn't beat Oprah's time, I did beat the Al Gore's and Drew Carey's times, and I definitely accomplished that goal of a sub-5 hour. Although, if I didn't stop for the bathroom break at mile 8.5, I might've been able to break 4:30. Oh well. There's always the next marathon ...
| Distance | MAR |
| Clock Time | 4:54:09 |
| Chip Time | 4:35:06 |
| Overall Place | 10481 / 23515 |
| Gender Place | 3430 / 9995 |
| Age Grade | 54.4% |
| Ctz | USA |
| 5K | 0:33:47 |
| 10K | 1:06:35 |
| 15K | 1:41:15 |
| 20K | 2:12:21 |
| Half | 2:19:22 |
| 25K | 2:44:06 |
| 30K | 3:16:25 |
| 35K | 3:50:38 |
| 40K | 4:22:25 |
| Pace | 10:30 |
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