My First Marathon: Race Day

October 18 started like pretty much any other Sunday morning, except that I almost never do long runs on Sunday, and I never get up at 0400 hours EDT. Since I was awake, I set about getting ready for the race, getting into my attire. Really, while I waited for breakfast, I got just about everything done but for taping my right foot.

Breakfast was supposed to arrive at 0500 hours EDT. That hour came and went. I waited, and continued to wait. Finally, around 0515, I called room service and asked for a status report on my sandwich. The gentleman who answered the call informed me that he had before him an order for a turkey sandwich, but that there was no room number attached to said order, and so it was not filled. He also informed me that it would be 30-45 minutes before a sandwich could find its way to my room. Given that I knew Avaney had told the guy in room service the night before what my room number was — 3 times, in fact — I knew where the error had occurred. That didn’t really help me, though, and I needed to eat. So, I hurried down to the front desk and asked Linda (less politely than I should have, leading me to apolgize later, as I should have) where I could get a sandwich. She suggested that I go to Plaka Cafe down the street, so away I ran (literally).

When I got to Plaka, I explained my plight to the waitress, and everyone suddenly sprang into action! She took my order, and walked it to the chef. The cook got right on it, and someone quickly cashed out my order. Three minutes later — if even that long! — I had a turkey sandwich, complete with toasted bread and all the appropriate toppings!

Dear Friends at Plaka Cafe,

You were amazing, and you saved my morning. Thank you SO much!

Sincerely,

Darrell

I darted back to the hotel with my sandwich and inhaled it (literally), then set about finishing the rest of my race preparations.

Okay, so I didn’t really inhale the sandwich. That would have hurt.

I taped my foot, made my final preparations, packed my bag for gear check, and then I heard a door open in the hall. Gayle’s head was sticking out of her room, and I mimicked her prairie-dog style. We chatted briefly, including a quick rant about my breakfast drama, and then Mike returned from dropping off things in their car. We then made our way to the rendezvous point, where we met up with Josh, Eric, and Dana. At that point, the fun began. I made my way to gear check and back again. We randomly scurried off to use the restroom one last time before the race. We stretched. We who were running thanked the folks who weren’t running for being there to cheer for and support us. Mike took a couple of photos. The runners amongst us — Gayle, Eric, Josh, and me — made our way into the corral. We listened to the US and Canadian national anthems; I sang along with both. We talked to the folks around us. A fellow runner, Gail, let me borrow her shoulder for a balance-giving hand-hold while I stretched my calf muscles one last time. The dialog was rather entertaining, actually:

Darrell: May I borrow your shoulder for a moment.

Gail: Yes. You may use me. Use me!

I particularly enjoyed talking with the really cute Canadian gal, tightly bundled in jacket, hat and scarf, who was preparing for the relay.

It would figure that I’d be surrounded by attractive, friendly women at a moment when I’d have no real chance of doing anything about it.

Then, right on cue, the race began. We ran together for the first half mile or so, and then I set out on my own pace. The trek to the Ambassador Bridge was relatively uninteresting, but the trip up the bridge was a glorious one. The sun was rising on the horizon as we climbed the bridge; only a sliver was visible as I reached the summit. The trek down from the bridge’s peak was a blast; I love running downhill, and think I could probably do so all day.

Hooray for having compliant quadriceps muscles!

The folks in Windsor were so loud; as a result, the run through Windsor was so much fun! I shed my gloves at mile 5, leaving them together with a pile of other clothing that I truly hope found its way to a homeless shelter. The race course led along the river, and then through downtown Windsor before taking us to the tunnel. One of the best features of the Detroit Free Press / Flagstar Marathon is the underwater mile. The first half of the tunnel was more delightful downhill running; unfortunately, it was followed by uphill running. After exiting the tunnel, I made my way through the customs booths without being stopped, and then worked my way through Detroit. My co-worker and friend Mia yelled out to me around the 12-mile mark; that was a huge boost!

Dear Mia,

Thank you SO much for coming out to cheer for me; that was so awesome of you, and I’m so very grateful to you for making time on your Sunday morning to come out there and yell for a crazy runner.

Sincerely,

Darrell

Shortly after this, I saw the saddest sight I encountered during the day. A runner had gone down, and bloody bandages were strewn on the pavement. A runner was loaded in an ambulance, and a second ambulance was joining the scene. I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew that someone was in a bad way. I tried to maintain focus on my running, as I had problems (though, for sure, less serious ones) to deal with at the time, but it was a sad moment.

Later, I would learn that the runner, and two others, had died as a result of their competing in the half marathon that day. My favorite runs, whether they be races, large group training runs, or small group runs, are those that see everyone get home safe and sound. I couldn’t have imagined someone dying during the race, let alone three folks. I was, am, and will continue to be elated about finishing my first marathon, but I will always feel pangs of pain for the families and friends of those who lost someone dear that day.

As I neared the 15th mile, I began to realize that my ailing right foot was not likely to hold up for another 11.2 miles, at least not at the pace I was running. I had finished the first half of the race in 2:02, and my cardiovascular system felt very strong; unfortunately, my foot wasn’t so strong. I carefully weighed the benefits and risks, considered where I was in the race, considered how far I had to go, and made the only decision I could make, and changed my race strategy to one of preserving the structural integrity of my foot as best I could. From somewhere around the 16-mile mark, I began a run-walk strategy, running for a while then walking a bit to take some of the pressure off my foot. Around this time, I also managed to tweak my right calf; it wasn’t a major injury, but it was enough of an injury to be consistently uncomfortable. While I would have loved to push through it, I don’t think I could have pushed through that without doing damage. The foot was damaged going in, as followers of this blog probably know. I had spent two months in physical therapy leading up to the race, getting treatment for tendinitis and plantar fasciitis. There will be more marathons in the future, and I will finish them faster. That one, though, I needed to finish, and I did what I needed to do in order to make that happen.

Eric passed me around the 17th mile, and Gayle caught up with me on Belle Isle. Josh caught up with me as well, and we ended up finishing out most of the last 5.2 miles together. Also making multiple appearance in the back half of the course was my friend Andrea, who was there to cheer for several friends that day.

Dear Andrea,

Thanks so much for being out there to cheer, and for showing up in multiple places. I really appreciate your being so loud and supportive. You rock!

Sincerely,

Darrell

Before I knew it, the finish line was just ahead of me, and I did my best to sprint out the finish. The final tally, as I would learn from ilikemargarine, was 4:38:08. Very quickly thereafter, there was a medal around my neck, a foil blanked across my shoulders, and food and water in my hands. It was over. I caught up with everyone but Josh (and went back looking for him), then got a quick massage, and then slowly made my way back toward my hotel room. I had a camera with me, though, and couldn’t pass on a couple of fun finds:

After riding the People Mover all the way around, just for the sake of staying off my right foot a bit longer, I hobbled through the casino and back to my hotel room. There, I showered, sent texts, Tweets, and Facebook messages, and watched some football before finally realizing I was hungry. As I had burned around 3,700 calories in the race, I decided all dietary restrictions were suspended for the remainder of the day. With that joyous decision reached, I made my way to the International Buffet in the Greektown Casino and proceeded to lay waste to it.

Plate 1: Two slices of pizza, chicken parmesan (with two chicken fillets), and a pile of chicken fettucine alfredo

Plate 2: Salad, several pieces of fried catfish, and a large pile of mashed potatoes

Plate 3: More fried catfish and more mashed potatoes

Bowl 1: A mound of vanilla ice cream, complete with an entire ladle of rainbow-colored sprinkles

Add to that the two glasses of Diet Pepsi I had, and I had two reasons to waddle back to my room, only one of which was related to my foot. After lunch — oh, yes, I considered that to be lunch, not dinner — I watched more football and packed a bit until Megan arrived. We then made our way to Como’s Restaurant in Ferndale.

Everything about that stop was perfect. The folks at Como’s were spectacular! One of the folks working there had run the marathon a few times before, so he was happy to talk to us, as was Sicilia, the owner. She was even nice enough to treat me to a beverage as a sweet, kind congratulatory gesture. The pizza was incredible! It was perhaps the best pizza I’ve ever had. I can’t believe how tasty it was!

Dear Friends at Como’s Restaurant,

Thanks for making my post-marathon dinner one to remember! The pizza was incredible; in fact, it was almost as great as your kindness and courtesy! I’ll definitely be back!

Sincerely,

Darrell

Megan was sweet enough to pick up the tab for dinner, as she felt it was appropriate to treat me in honor of my first marathon.

Dear Megan,

Thanks for the time you spent with me, and for treating me to dinner! I really appreciate your making time to help me celebrate, and I was able to pay forward the kindness a few days later (as you will read about in a later blog entry).

Sincerely,

Darrell

I didn’t last too much longer after Megan returned me to Greektown. I remember that we chatted for a while, and then she left, and then … well, your guess is as good as mine.

All in all, the experience was great; I’m glad I did it, and I would do it again (faster, I hope).