Let me start off by saying that I have an awful memory and my follow-through can be even worse. So here is my recollection of my experience with this year's Run for Mobility.... to the best of my recollection. (I'm paraphrasing my hubby here and there.)
A few years ago my husband and I learned of this awesome charity, Free Wheelchair Mission, and have now "raced" to raise money for them. To date we've raised about 90 wheelchairs. And this is how we get to Run for Mobility 2009... Last year's run was brutal because it was raining and I wasn't properly protected from the elements, nor was I properly trained as I only really trained for a month or so after my surgery. I knew that things couldn't be any worse than last year, so my outlook for this race was definitely cheerier.
The weather had been rainy on and off, but mostly on. By race weekend, the rain was cleared up and the evening was beautiful as we went to Huntington Beach on Friday night to pick up our race packets. We checked out the expo & bought some fun running paraphernalia like a t-shirt that says 'My Dog Walks All Over Me' and one that says 'I Run for picture of wine glass.' I had to settle for wine since they didn't have a martini glass picture, but I digress. We picked up our Free Wheelchair Mission gear from the booth and also met Dane Rauschenberg - THE MAN who ran 52 marathons in one year. Mental note: he ran twice the distance 52 times in one year! My goal for the year is 4 half marathons. I also put in an order for this really cool bag where they will take any of my race gear and actually sew it into the bag as a memento of my accomplishments. I'm planning on sending in my race bibs for the year and other little race-related items I pick up along the year as I work my way to becoming a California Series Finisher.
On Saturday evening, we went to the Free Wheelchair Mission fundraiser dinner & carb load - yay!! where we also made a new friend in Giri, who ran the marathon, and Randy who donated wheelchairs to both of us. We stayed at the amazing Hyatt Regency to get an early start for the race & not to have to park miles away at the crack of dawn on Sunday.
Race Day
So it's finally race day. We checked out the Free Wheelchair Mission booth who must've known I was coming because they were ready with fruit and cheese danishes. I took a picture with Josh George, Paralympic Gold Medalist and this year's keynote speaker. He said his half marathon finish would take about 40 or 45 minutes. I was hoping to see him as he came in for the finish, but things worked out differently. We made our way over to the race start & warmed up a little, stretched and lined up for our wave start. When our wave finally started, we began to run together for a bit. We ended up having to weave around walkers and try to find openings in the crowd to move ahead. Mental note: Write letter to the organizers of the Surf City Half when this is all over.
Nashy refers to the first few miles as a frenzy. I agree. There were walkers everywhere in front of us!! What the heck? We stuck together for a bit, but at some point had to split up when I decided to walk. I have to count in my head to keep calm, so I try to focus on counting and try to figure out where Nashy went. I think he's somewhere behind me. I keep glancing over my shoulder but at some point realize he's just about a block ahead of me. Mental note: The tide is turning between Nash and I.
I forget to lap my 2nd mile on my handy dandy spankin' new Garmin with GPS, so I get all thrown off when my watch says 25:49 for 2 miles. Forget it - just count. According to the official results, I hit mile 3 at 37:46 --55 seconds behind Nash. Whatever. Just get up this hill. Run, climb, walk. There may be cookies at the top like that one year. Run, climb walk. Walk, climb, walk, walk, run, walk, climb, walk, walk. Crap, it's getting hot. Finally, I turn left and know that this street will take me across to the top of my descent.
I'm free like the wind!
Here it is. RUN! I'm running like the wind down towards mile 5. I know it's somewhere near the bottom of the hill.... have to get there. There's the lady with the prosthetic leg. A woman walks up to her and tells her she's an inspiration. She thanks her. Mental note: I'm running for mobility - running for those who can't. When this run starts to hurt, thank God for my legs and run. Good pace. What is that in my ears? I can't quite hear it. Hello? I look down at my trusty Sansa Clip. My adorable little Sansa Clip that helped me get through last year's run. Synchronize subscription. What? I synchronized it yesterday before we left the house. Okay, it's okay, I just syncrhonized it, so it's going to be fine. Turn it off, turn it on, press play. Synchronize subscription. NOOOOOOO!!! This can't possibly be happening. Mind you, I'm standing somewhere in the middle of my glorious descent trying to reason with my precious little clip. What about the music I own? That'll play. I can get through the next 8 to 9 miles with 'Accelerated Funk'. It's the perfect tempo. I'll be fine.
Plan B
I can't see the lady with the prosthetic leg any more. Maybe I should walk and work out my problem at the same time. Walk. I clip my Clip onto my fanny pack and plug in to my fancy new LG Dare. Luckily, I downloaded some music onto it just to see how it would work. It's full of Luis Miguel and Ricky ballads. Crap.
I finally make it to the bottom of the hill in time to see the leader of the marathon on the other side of the road. I try to shout my encouragement. Awesome. That means I missed Josh, though. Where's my Nashy? The Team in Training boosters have signs for their runners. That's nice. Probably the 5th booster group. How much further until the turn around? I keep looking through the runners going the other way. Where is he? Finally, there he is. I've stopped at least 5 times to stretch my soleuses (solei?) I tell him. This hurts so bad. It's hot. Our brief debrief energizes me momentarily. The official time says I'm 4 minutes and 25 seconds behind him.
Now all I have to finish is this straightaway. Only 5 miles. I can do 5 miles in my sleep. OMG! This hurts. I pull over a bunch of times to stretch. My hammies are screaming. I stare at the next Team in Training boosters. They have sliced oranges. Dane did twice this distance 52 times in one year; it can't be easy to run on a prosthetic leg; we've raised 48 wheelchairs this year for people who can't get walk let alone run; my legs are in working order. Thank you, God!
I manage somehow. I try to smile for the cameras. People here and there give me words of encouragement. It's not like having a sign with your name on it like the Team in Training people, but it's just as encouraging. I look to my right at the marathoners on the beach. I only have to do 13.1. I can do this. Maybe Glen will come around on his bike like that one year and push me a little. I keep looking around, trying to keep my head up, trying to not be missed.
10
Finally, I see the mile 10 marker. Only a 5k to go. The street numbers are counting down and I'm getting closer to 10th Street. Maybe Kozuks and Jess will come out to cheer us on. I'm not sure which street they live on, but I know it's around here. There's a pizza place. I wonder if it's open. I can't stop the tears. No one's there to cheer me on. But I can do this, I have good legs. It takes me an hour to finish my last 3 miles.
13.1
I'm done. 7:27 behind Nash. The tide has turned.
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