Sunday, November 11, 2012

The Marathon that {ALMOST} Wasn't

Before I tell you how awesome my marathon was today, let's back up a bit and figure out how the heck I found myself in this mess.  Even to me, it seems strange that I'd be running this race.  Up until about a year ago, the only kind of running I liked was the dance move (singular) I'd throw down for 8-10 hours at a time at Pyramid Club (or any other skeevy, foggy dance club). When I came home from South America, I had a LOT of free time on my hands.  Trying to find my sanity, and help my parents keep theirs (I KNOW I'm hard to live with!), I tried getting out of the house with some jogging.  Plus, I came home from South America as a fat alcoholic, so there was that to contend with.

Anyways, I was running pretty consistently. So, my amazing older bro encouraged me to run the Haunted Hustle half marathon.  I did, and it was ...okay.  Kinda painful.  Definitely not something I'd ever (EVER) want to repeat! No siree! I wasn't even convinced that I liked running at all.  It still mostly seemed like something I was doing because I like eating and drinking.  Mostly drinking.  No, no.  Mostly eating.  Ehhh let's call it a tie.

Then I moved to Korea. Last winter, I ran a lot because I was bored and lonely.  I moved here knowing no one, and was finding it surprisingly difficult to meet friends.  So I ran, and I yoga-ed, and I ran to yoga.  That was it.  That, and work, work, work. And somewhere in there, as the running became habit, it became something that I liked, something that I-GASP-looked forward to!

I decided to make all this running have a point to it.  I signed up to run the DMZ half-marathon in Cheorwon.  At some point during my training for this race, I was chatting with my parents. "Great job with your training, honey.  Did ya hear that Jeff won the Tough Mudder?  Oh, and he's signed up for the Haunted Hustle full marathon?"  Dammit! I can't be the only one of us ('us' being myself and my brothers) without a marathon! That's it, enough with these pansy halves.  Time to do the real thing.  I think?

September rolled around and I ran the DMZ race.  It surpassed my expectations.  There were military people. There were tanks.  There was the possibility that I'd have to outrun bullets.
I LOVED IT!




I met a really nice guy named Kyle running the DMZ race.  He ended up being an awesome support, and great training buddy.  During my long weekend runs, he'd ride along on a bike, carrying all my sports drink and gels in the basket. Amazing friend! My running had been going really well, and I'd felt good during my long runs.  Up until about a week and a half ago, that is.  I'd started my taper, and cutting back on mileage turned me into a neurotic mess.  That, and I was feeling the beginnings of shin splints.  My inner dialogue was something like: "OHMYGOD!  What if my legs fall off?  Could they fall off during the race?  They totally could!  No.  They just hurt because you ate so much Halloween candy.  That's like ten extra pounds of chocolate in your stomach, of course you can't run! Ugh. They should totally be using this candy as fuel, what's WRONG with my muscles! ARRGGHH!"  Pair that with the emotional lows of Pap dying, and really missing my family, and I was driving myself (and probably everyone around me) crazy.   I needed to run to work out these feelings. I was really, really itching to get on with today's race.

Yesterday, to help calm my nerves, I went to the World Cup Stadium, where the Seoul Sports Marathon would begin and end.  There was no pre-race expo, but workers were out getting the tents and stage set up.  I wandered around a bit, really enjoying the gorgeous fall weather and foliage.

World Cup Stadium




Can you believe these colors??

Pre-race emotions bubble to the surface.


I was pumped for the race!  Nothing could stop me now!

Then.... comes race day...


I wake up. At 7:45!!!!  WHAT!?  Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck!!! Ohmygod! How did this happen?!  Stupid fucking Sharper Image alarm clock! ARGGH!  I run around my apartment helter skelter.  Turn on the coffee maker.  Turn off the coffee maker.  Start putting on my race clothes.  Check the clock again.  Check my computer just to make sure.  FUCK! The race starts at 9.  If I leave my apartment RIGHT THIS SECOND, maybe, MAYBE I can make it. DAMMIT!  I don't know what comes over me, but I start laughing hysterically.  Of course.  OF COURSE this happened!  Oversleep the alarm for your first marathon (by THREE hours!).  Typical. I realize that even if I DO manage to make it to the start line on time, I will be in no condition to begin running a marathon.

Soooo, now what?

Incidentally, I'd been reading some articles last week regarding just this situation.  Well, actually, not this situation.  The articles were about what to do if your marathon is cancelled (I was curious what all the New York marathon runners would do). Basically, you can postpone your marathon and have an extended taper (no, no, NO! (see above.)), or you could run an alternate race on the same day.  Looks like I'll still be running a marathon!

I took my time getting ready, drinking my coffee, checking my facebook, you know, the important things.  Whatever.  This is my race now, I can start it whenever I want.  As I head into Seoul, I decide not to run the official race route.  The idea of running 3 hours behind everyone else just seemed demoralizing. Plus, I didn't want to show my face at the Seoul Flyers tent.  I decided to start under the Hannam bridge, and head west.  That way, I'd be able to meet up with the marathon runners at their turn-around point, and at least run with some others for a bit.  I've got a plan, and I may stick to it.

The first thing I, um, noticed, was the horrible, horrible weather. The forecast had warned of a 60% chance of showers.  What we were getting was a 100% chance of complete downpour.  Just sheets and sheets of frigid rain coming down. And wind.  Lots of that too.  Have I ever mentioned how much I hate rain?  I hate rain more than I hate snow, and I REALLY hate snow.  As much as I try, I can't control the weather, so I just had to bear with it.

I got down to the park, decided on a light pole to be my 'Official Start/Finish Line' (although this would later need to be changed, because of poor math skills on the part of the race director), and got to running.

Had been feeling homesick, so went for the GreenBay manicure/Badger bracelet combo


The Official Start Line


Runners, take your marks! Or... take a picture!

I hit the official race turn-around after about 3 miles, just as the 4:20 pace group was coming through.  I ran with them for about 6 miles before they split to head back to the stadium.








After that point, I didn't see anyone on the trail for a long time.  It was very cold, and very wet.  I thought I'd be able to do a simple out-and-back, but around mile 11 things really started to get flooded.

Danger. Yes, indeed.



So I turned around and ran back through the race course.  This time, I got to see the ambulance sweeping through for any stragglers, and watched people breaking down the aid stations.  Really glad I didn't run the actual race route.  I keep running, it keeps raining.  Running. Raining. Raining. Running. But then around mile 19, the most amazing thing happened.

It stopped raining.



Cue angel's singing.


This only lasted about 20 minutes.  Then guess what? More rain.
To wrap things up, I finished the 26.2 miles. YAY!



And then, because of (previously mentioned) inferior math skills, I had to run an extra 1.3 miles to get to the 'Official Finish Line'.  


So there you have it.  My first official marathon was, well, everything but official.
No bib, no medal. But a marathon nonetheless.
And that's good enough for me.


P.S.  I came in first.

P.P.S.  I also came in last.

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