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Source: Trifueler
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by Atropos

The morning started off great. I think I tapered pretty well for this race and my energy (and desire to burn it) was up in the two days leading up to Sunday. I got up after only 5 hours of sleep (beating my alarm by 10 minutes somehow) feeling great. I chowed down on a mix of Vector and Just Right cereal, ate a banana, stretched, and headed out the door. Unfortunately I could hear rain pattering on my roof, but I didn�t really care as I knew it wouldn�t really affect me.

I remembered the reason I�m doing this. I want to be an endurance athlete. I have to endure.

I was out in the cold, wearing nothing but a shirt and shorts, waiting for a bus that decided not to come. Not a good start. After 10 minutes of waiting and cursing, I went up the street to catch a different bus, but this meant that I would arrive at the stadium just in time for the start of the race, giving me no prep time.

Sure enough, when I got to the start, Steve King said the race would start in two minutes. There I was, crammed into the start with 3500 other people, most shivering and wearing garbage bags with holes for arms, and all exhibiting various degrees of excitement and nervousness. There�s something great about mass race starts; tons of energy. You can�t help but feel good in a situation like that, rain or no.

I had decided to wear my Fuel Belt filled with Powergels instead of water/Gatorade since I could get that stuff on the course. It took me about 12 seconds to drop one on the course. Great. I double checked the others and went on my way.

The early race went very well and I felt like the whole 26.2 miles would be easy. My longest run was a 20 miler a few weeks earlier that I finished with relative ease, so my spirits were up. Unfortunately the Van. Marathon course is somewhat convoluted, with lots of turns, doubling back, and passing the same main street lights 4 times in one hour. I was looking forward to the turn onto Georgia that would lead us into Stanley Park, but it never seemed to come.

After mile 10 I was still doing fine. Staying aerobic was easy and I was with a pretty consistent group of runners. A fine mist was falling on us as we went into Stanley Park and it made the rainforest look amazing. Actually, it looked more like a jungle with mist above us obscuring everything from view. After 13.1 miles I was starting to get a little tired so seeing some amazing scenery was a good mental boost.

Leaving the park put us into running territory that I was very familiar with as I had trained all around this area. My legs didn�t really care though and wanted to stop. I was dreading the Burrard Street bridge though as it is a short nasty climb followed by a really long slow downhill that I hate. I had run over this bridge 100 times and I�m quite good at climbing the hills, but my body stopped listening to my brain. I was trying to go faster but my legs just wouldn�t respond. I was under their control now. At least they were carrying me in the direction I was trying to go.

I had heard many times that mile 20 is when the marathon gets really hard. Scientifically, it�s apparently the point at which your muscles use up all the stored glycogen and you�re forced to rely on your race nutrition to get yourself further. I don�t know if that�s the case or not, but knowing that I only had 6 miles more to go was bittersweet. On the one hand, 6 miles isn�t that far. On the other hand, I knew those 6 miles would probably be the longest of my life. My legs were screaming by this point and it was only through sheer force of will that I didn�t stop and walk.

I really wanted to take a break. Just one short, sweet break to give my legs a rest. Maybe stop and talk to some of the people cheering us on. Then a thought came into my head. I remembered the reason I�m doing this. I want to be an endurance athlete. I have to endure. Somehow I kept running. My legs felt like lead but they kept moving. It was all I could ask for.

Last hill. Burrard Bridge again, only going the other way this time. Looooong, slooooow incline. People were cheering all over the place, but I couldn�t really hear anything except my screaming legs. I was pushing like hell, trying to go faster, but I felt like I was going 4 km/h. It was horrible. I passed another running who was running short distances then walking. I told him to push just a little further. We were only 2 miles out.

Mile 25 was the longest mile I've ever run. People screaming all over the place and Steve King talking from behind some buildings. Thankfully it was flat. Others were getting their final push, but I just kept my same speed. It was that or go slower, not something I wanted to do.

I finally got to the finish line and saw my family cheering me on. They were immensely proud of me which was nice. I don't mind the endless hours of solitary training, but having people there cheering you on in a race makes it all worth it.

3 hours and 32 minutes of running, and I had finished my first marathon. My legs were rocks. The wouldn�t bend or lift higher than an inch off the ground. I hobbled around, collecting my finishers medal and sweet blue plastic marathon finisher cape. It was funny seeing all the other finishers hobbling around too. We all looked like the walking dead.

In any case I definitely have a new respect for the marathon. I didn�t think it would be quite as hard, though I imagine it will be a little easier next time now that I know what to expect.

I've got a 1/2IM to start training for now (only 6 weeks away...). I guess I'll start that when I can walk properly again.