Truly,
what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.
The
first quarter of 2014, immediately when spring melted the last ice of winter I dove
hard into my training for the upcoming Northface Endurance 50 miler Challenge I
signed up for. It was going to be my 3rd time to tackle the same
ultra which gave me somewhat od a good insight to what I have to prepare for. The
Northface challenge in Washington DC was scheduled for early June, a good date
in east coast where spring has lost its chill but summer hasn’t fully awakened
yet. Head on I trained the long distances with my 3 yr old son on the running
stroller. Looking back, I have never stopped running even when he was on my
womb and all the way to the last week of my delivery. When I popped him out, I
had to get the running stroller and run with him all the time having no nanny
to leave him with. Thru the years I have kind of gotten used to our grind and
my baby was loving it. His gradual weight growth was never “too heavy” until we
both ran on our usual long and hilly 20 miler route to the next town and I just
broke my leg like a twig. I had x-rays taken and the orthopedics diagnosed that
my broken fibula was caused by the weight of my 3 year old boy, the long
mileages and the hilly course; all married together created a perfect storm for
bad injury. I was told to completely rest for 8 weeks and was advised after I’m
healed to go for less leg impact activities like yoga, walking or swimming,
never to run again. Of course, my world caved down. I was a homemaker and the
only thing that keeps my sanity was running. To quit was not an option for me.
So, I waited it out. All the while staying away from running photos of friends
on the social media & race invites on the mail; they felt like daggers to
the heart. The worst yet was seeing a runner outside and churning in envy, to
self-pity and depression. June came and I went to Northface to cheer and support
my friend whom I was supposed to run with. It felt better to be at least “a
part of it.” My toddler ran his first northface kids distance while I was
guiding him thru the course and all the way to the finish line limping. To stop
running was never a choice for me. So I worked with my body patiently to heal
and strengthen. I ate my greens, took my supplements and painfully went back
practicing my martial arts kata which I knew would promote my core strength
back. I took the excruciating walks leaning on to my son’s stroller while
runners on the road pass us by. Now, last year I was able to get in the lottery
for the entry to a fall Marathon. With only 4 months to go and hardly walking,
I locked my sights on Oct 26 because I am running the Marine Corps Marathon and
I am bringing that medal home.
The
Marine Corps Marathon 2014 was my 3rd time in the same race, known
worldwide as “the People’s Marathon” because that’s what it is. It doesn’t
award money or prizes to the names on the leaderboard because it stands by its
own faith to let the race remain in its truest form, the celebration of the
human spirit. So no Olympian or elite sightings here just great people who love
to run and the great US marines who are there to race, support their fallen
comrades, remember their heroes and their wounded warriors.
Oct
26, I ran the Marine Corps Marathon knowing I was not prepared. My training was
“very easy,” I cautiously ease my way just to get back again. It was like the
first all over again, the excitement and the uncertainty only this time I
wasn’t as confident I would make it to the finish line in time. You see, this
race has a cut-off somewhere before the 20th mile. They call it
“Beat the Bridge” because once you haven’t cross it at a certain time, it will
open up to the busy DC traffic and off you board the bus and be driven to the
finish line without getting your bling. Imagine suffering to the 19th
mile only to be canned out with such a humiliating end, presumably after months
of training is a runner’s nightmare. Armed with minimal training, a leg I have
to treat with care and great prayers I dashed when the howitzer cannon was
fired. I consciously have to control my pace to refrain from imminent injury. I
know I just had to ‘beat that bridge’ and I know I will be fine. I carried out
pretty well never passing a single water station until the 14 mile when fatigue
and bad cramps set in. From 8 years of running I know it was just too early to
feel those symptoms of exhaustion. Usually, I tend to get them somewhere on the
23rd mile and onwards. Then I seriously doubted myself when I knew
it will only get worst and I got like more than 12 miles to go. From that point
on, it was struggle. My hamstrings started to numb and lock. Last year’s race,
I remember running the route and enjoying the DC sights but that day it was
just a blur. Worst was the sun, by noon it was shining strong and hard. It was
autumn and the organizers never anticipated such heat coming along they never
had showers to hose us down. By the 16th mile, I ran by one kid collapsing and
hitting his gashing his head from the fall.
Same incident happening left and right kept the paramedics busy. It
became sensible to take two cups of water at the station for the thirst and for
a splash on the face. I was just bad come 18th mile. You know when
you’re so tired that you’re just dragging. I had to run on the sides where it
was less congested. There were 30,000 of us and even just to run around the
runner in front of you is sooo much of an effort. You just wish you could go
straight on a paved path because your poor feet is just too heavy every step of
the way. It’s funny but at times like this when your body is shutting down and
all you have to rely on is your insecure mind, you just have to go back to
primal instincts of “right…left…right” and I did just that. I cannot count the
times I had to stop to stretch out my calves which at that time have completely
locked. I walked the hills because if I pushed I might not be able to keep on
anymore. But each and every time I get the tiniest wind, I pushed from my core
and run again until there’s nothing left then I walk to renew and wait for the
soonest wind to come my way…on and on until I beat that bridge in time. The 6
miles after that was horrible. We were staggering thru the streets to Pentagon
like a scene from the walking dead. No favors! Doesn’t matter if you’re a
marine, a housewife, an athlete…if you didn’t train well, you have to zombie
down to the finish line. I crossed the finish line at officially 4:47:59. It was
my most challenging run, even harder than my past ultras.
The
Marine Marathon 2014 is my slowest marathon, 40 minutes slower than my best
last year for the same course. At another time, I would’ve been disappointed
but given the situation; I was overwhelmed with gratefulness and empowered
because I was out there, able to run again when everyone told me I should stop
for good. I don’t advocate stubbornness. I just believe in wisely learning from
your mistakes and coming back stronger. Next week I am starting my training for
the Northface 50 miler on April 2015 I missed to run last June. Thru it all, I
learned a valuable lesson. The marathon is mental only if you just want to do
the race by taking your time but if you want to perform and run the race as it
should be, you have to deliver your best to honor its true spirit. You have to train good and prepare well to
beat not just the sunset but yourself because that’s how you respect it. It
doesn’t matter if you are slow. What matters is you are out of your comfort
zone, pushing with pain and giving it your all. That sweet pain…that my friends
is weakness leaving your body.
