It was October 7, 2007, I was at mile 4 of the Twin Cities Marathon, and I was already in trouble. What was supposed to be a marathon in chilly Minnesota fall weather was quickly turning into a slog through a sultry indian summer day. The temperature climbed into the 80's as I ditched my soaked shirt on the side of the road. I grabbed two cups at every water station and still couldn't sate my thirst. In the late stages of the race, paramedics tended to passed out runners on the sides of the roads. It was chaos.
I hadn't trained properly, either. Used to running the Philadelphia Marathon the week before Thanksgiving, I was now running a race at the beginning of October. I should have done much of my training over the summer, but I failed to do much of anything while on a cross country roadtrip from June to August.
My legs felt useless, my thirst was overpowering, and I had to stop to walk far more than I wanted to. It was painful and demoralizing, and I couldn't help thinking it had been a waste to come out to Minnesota for such a dismal performance.
You know the reaction kids have when they open a present on Christmas morning and it's exactly what they've asked for? Though I may not have looked it, that's the excitement I felt when I saw my sister Kirsten at the 23 mile mark. She jumped in and started running with me, and I felt compelled to give her a running commentary of the status of my legs. "OH GOD it feels like my quads are going to rip through the skin!" I was in bad shape. But my sister offered encouragement, and waited with me while I stretched, and continued to run with me.
When we crested the hill on Summit Avenue, the Cathedral of St. Paul and State Capitol Building came into view. Next to the finish line, flapping in all its old glory, was the largest American flag I have ever seen. Kirsten and I ran side by side as the crowds thickened on either side of the course, their cheers thunderous, and I can say without a doubt that this is one of my favorite memories of my life.
I hadn't trained properly, either. Used to running the Philadelphia Marathon the week before Thanksgiving, I was now running a race at the beginning of October. I should have done much of my training over the summer, but I failed to do much of anything while on a cross country roadtrip from June to August.
My legs felt useless, my thirst was overpowering, and I had to stop to walk far more than I wanted to. It was painful and demoralizing, and I couldn't help thinking it had been a waste to come out to Minnesota for such a dismal performance.
You know the reaction kids have when they open a present on Christmas morning and it's exactly what they've asked for? Though I may not have looked it, that's the excitement I felt when I saw my sister Kirsten at the 23 mile mark. She jumped in and started running with me, and I felt compelled to give her a running commentary of the status of my legs. "OH GOD it feels like my quads are going to rip through the skin!" I was in bad shape. But my sister offered encouragement, and waited with me while I stretched, and continued to run with me.
When we crested the hill on Summit Avenue, the Cathedral of St. Paul and State Capitol Building came into view. Next to the finish line, flapping in all its old glory, was the largest American flag I have ever seen. Kirsten and I ran side by side as the crowds thickened on either side of the course, their cheers thunderous, and I can say without a doubt that this is one of my favorite memories of my life.
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| With my sister Kirsten after the 2007 Twin Cities Marathon |
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