Here I sit, humbled, both excited and a little disappointed about last Sunday’s running of the 2011 OBX Marathon. I am going to do my best to recall the race, and the events leading up to it…most of you know my story, how can you not? I post, virtually, daily updates with regards to my training, my favorite frozen yogurt…my preference in, well, just about everything…LOL. I am thankful to all of you who have been a part in this journey so far…too many of you to mention…but you know who you are, all you Honey Badgers and such…I will put a few Easter eggs (inside jokes) throughout…and maybe a few spoilers…LOL… AND THEN!
20 weeks ago I started a modified Hal Higdon training plan. By race day, I had logged 517 miles on my spreadsheet in anticipation of my first marathon. Heat…humidity…bugs…dogs…heat…more heat…can you see the constant?...The other constants were Jon and Amber Shingleton. The Shingleton’s dragged me through more runs than I can recall…their inspiration, and perspiration, are a true testament to our friendship, and I would be a dillhole if I didn’t acknowledge that simple fact. I love you guys.
20 weeks later…
The nerves hit during the drive to Nags Head…truck was packed with 4 Ghiloni’s and a Daughtridge (B’s dad, Rusty, went with us to take care of the kids while we ran…Oh, and should we have perished during the run, to return the kids, safely, to their mother), enough luggage for the Rockettes and at least 1 very anxious runner. I had done distance…two 20 milers…a bungled 22 miler where I got dehydrated, and lost…For God’s sake, I did 50K at Hinson lake….but 26.2 without “breaks” is a different animal. I admit that until I finished, I did not fully appreciate, understand, fear or RESPECT 26.2 miles. I understand now how that little fella ran from Athens to Marathon then fell over dead (or something like that…it’s a myth…gimme a break)
So..let’s stroll through this leisurely little Sunday run.
I felt great when I woke up…Eric Pate and I made it to the shuttle with time to spare…we hung out with a few other RMEC runners…trading stories…making predictions…good stuff…I missed being with B that morning…she was running her first ½…I really wished we had been able to start together…but I had to “trade her in” on some fruit loop with a Thor t-shirt on…LOL
I lined up WAY in the back…in fact, AT the back…my intent was to run 11 minute miles…then walk for 1 minute...wash…rinse…repeat. So, I took off at a 9:00 pace for several hundred yards until finding a very comfortable 10:30ish and staying there for about 7 miles before walking….oops.
COOL HAPPENING: I rounded a corner to have the sun blast me in the face (in a good way) through a foggy mist just as “Here Comes the Sun” by the Beatles started.
Arthur and I leap-frogged back and forth for much of the first 7-8 miles…Note: He is too skinny to draft on…LOL.
I really enjoyed the scenery…the trail portion of the first ½ was awesome…made for a really interesting run…I hit the halfway mark (13.1 miles) 23 minutes faster than my previous ½ marathon time…If I had stayed on that pace, 5 hours would have been a breeze….IF….AND THEN!
Somewhere around mile 14 my lower right back popped…I have had back problems for over 10 years and it was almost to be expected. The pain that followed the pop was not expected. I quickly went from 180 pounds to 300 pounds perceived weight in minutes. My right leg was moslyt numb, with the rest on fire. My right foot gave a sharp shot of pain with each foot-fall. My left leg was heavy and aching with shots of pain with each step. My back was heavy and felt like a mechanical joint in need of lubrication…with extreme pain across my kidneys and into a very nauseated stomach. I took the 2 pills I carried “just in case”…this got me back to tolerable for 5 more miles…AND THEN!
They wore off just as if a switch had been thrown…and I got scared. Soon I was walking with a bad limp…dragging my right foot. The back pain and pain in my right foot became unbearable and I started the “Great 2-hour cry of 2011”…LOL.
I would try to run. For the first time ever, I was unable to.
Ya’ll saw how I built this race up over the last 6 months…I was crushed at the thought of not finishing. I was scared…mad…embarrassed…truly concerned by the pain…I had to stop looking at my watch. It tormented me…I settled into “1-step-at-a-time” as I made the right turn to the bridge (you know what bridge I am talking about). And Then!
And for that last 4-5 miles I limped, and it hurt. I prayed. I cried. Then I broke.
At this point I decided to quit for the first time. I stood at the last aid table before the bridge and stared at the volunteer until she asked if I was ok. Thinking only about my wife and kids waiting for me in Manteo, I mumbled something and kept limping. Next big thought…”ok dummy…no you HAVE to drag your dead leg over that damned bridge”.
NOTE: The rest of the run is not crystal clear with regards to the timeline. The following account is not told to be funny at all. I truly had a miraculous experience on the bridge. I will tell it the best way I can, with no interpretation. I will leave that up to each of you to interpret based on your beliefs…but here is what I recall…I spent the bulk of this time alone with God.
I spent some time asking God to pile more pain on me. I have sinned in my life, and I thought, in the midst of misery, let’s do a little “atoning”. Not sure where I got the idea, but it occupied a clouded mind for a while, and helped me to leave more than a few things on that bridge….then walk UP the bridge seemed to take hours.
Next big recollection: at the top of the bridge, I fell into the railing. I looked down and saw baitfish freaking out and dark colored dolphins chasing them…not really sure how long I was there…several runners gave the “come on buddy, you can do this”…cheer as they passed, but I was fine watching the dolphins….
Finally I felt a hand on my back…a big, warm hand, making circles. She said, “are you ok?”
Note: the left side of my body was sunburned after the race…as you ran up the bridge, the sun was on the left and she was between it and me…so while we talked, I never got a really good look at her.
I do not recall her name…I remember she said she was from Denver…that she was 70 years old…that this was her 3rd Marathon…and it sure seemed tough…but that’s all I got…maybe cuz I was hunched over trying to decide if this was where I was going to puke….not really sure…but she asked if she could pray with me…so we did. She then asked, “is there anything I can do to help you?” In the most “Eric” way I knew how, I said, “Ma’am if you can muster up the strength to push me over this rail, I would really appreciate it…those dolphins seem to be having a lot more fun than we are.” She left saying, “Son, if you can still laugh, you can walk the last 3 miles.” She was wearing purple….that is all I recall.
So, I cried my way down the hill…funny how downhill is sometimes harder than up. I went to aid table and asked about pulling myself out of the race. The volunteer explained that the decision would be final and once put in motion, I was done…no backing out…she told me to sit down and think about it…no rush.
I told her that I would just keep going…that, if I sat down, there would be no getting up….so, I limped…and I cried…and it hurt…badly.
As I attempted, again, to run, a police officer asked me not to…to please just walk…”cuz it hurts just to watch”…people in their cars…long since finished with their races…cheering me on…you can do it…you got this…almost there….no really…almost there…I know they said almosttherebutireallymeanalmostthere…..LOL.
½ mile left and the lady with the microphone was so freaking annoying…just annoying enough for me to ignore the pain for a few minutes…right turn…really fuzzy now…people walking to their cars…you got this…almost there…he looks sick…he’s dragging his foot…you got this…one more turn…red flag…
Ethan and Lucas with Brandie…they joined me…grabbed my hands and we…wait for it…RAN in…how the #$%&....RAN the last 50 yards….across the mat…I am a marathoner now. 26.2 miles. 6 hours and 3 minutes…I finished...WITH MY KIDS.
I should hate that bridge. That bridge has been on my mind for 6 months. I will never forget that bridge or the things I left on it…or the things I took from it. I think I will call her Violet. Guardian Angels need names, too, after all.
So much more than a marathon. AND THEN!
