WDW Goofy Challenge: Slow and Steady Finishes the Race (Part 4)

Well, we left off yesterday at mile 20.

Oh mile 20.

Mile 20 has proven to be the beginning of the end for me in my previous marathons.  In my first marathon, the Rock N Roll Seattle 2010, my body and soul broke down at about mile 18.  By mile 20, it was everything I could do to even fathom crossing the finish line.  In Victoria in 2011, it was at mile 20 that I allowed myself to take my first walking steps.  After that, it was a constant mental battle to keep from walking the rest of the way.  In the RNR San Diego last year, I didn't hit my true wall until about 23, but I felt the first signs of fatigue, the first signs that my body was running out of steam, at 20.

So as Erica and I kept running, kept ticking away our miles, I couldn't help but dread the inevitable.  As we passed miles 18 and 19 and waved goodbye to my parents until the end, in my mind I was thinking it's coming, it's coming.  In no time it will be here and life will REALLY SUCK for about an hour.  And an hour may not seem like very long, but when you're banging your head against a marathon wall, that hour feels like a lifetime.  It feels like all the minutes of the rest of your life will be encompassed in that hour.  It feels like it will never, ever end...like you will be running this marathon for ever and ever until the world comes crashing down--or you do--whatever happens first.



And this feeling, this wall, this "bite me zone," or whatever you want to call it, this is what I was anticipating as Erica and I finally exited ESPN's Wide World of Sports complex and passed by the mile 20 marker.  But as I crossed the line of that marker, my body didn't break down.  My mind felt at ease.  There was no wall waiting on the other side.

I thought to myself, it may not happen now, but it's still coming.  Any minute now you're going to run smack into that wall.  Prepare yourself for it.

Between mile 20 and 21, we doubled back on the same highway that took us into ESPN and saw racers passing us as they entered the ESPN complex.  I kept myself busy in this mile looking for TNT teammates passing on the other side of the road, to no avail.  There was another bathroom stop (not because I was having tummy issues, but because I finally, thankfully, had to go).  I didn't have any trouble standing back up again after sitting in the not so pleasant end-of-the-race port-a-potty.  That wall will still come though, don't let it trick you.

At mile 22, we were heading towards Hollywood Studios.  By this time, I was wracking my brain for a mantra that would get me through the eventual wall.  Every race mantra up until this point had been different.  RNR Seattle: "You can do it."  Victoria: "Pain is temporary."  RNR San Diego: "It's not about me."  For this one, I had decided I'd stick with the mantra "mom and dad are waiting for you."  I knew this would get me to the finish line.

As we entered Hollywood Studios, I suddenly spotted our friendly fireman from the morning of the half:

Remember this guy?  Full turnout gear, air tank and all?

There he was, chugging along in the extreme heat and humidity, still running.  Every runner who passed him gave him words of encouragement.  As I ran by him, I sent my own words his way: "You got this, great job."    And as I anticipated that wall again, I thought to myself, if he can do THAT, I can do THIS.

Running through Hollywood studios was pretty awesome.  We only got a little taste of it, and as with Animal Kingdom, I'd love to go back and see it again when I'm not in the tail end of a marathon.  It was inside Hollywood Studios, as Erica and I passed by the 23rd mile marker, and I still had not found that wall that I started to allow myself to think that, for just a moment, maybe it wasn't coming.  Maybe it wasn't out there waiting for me.  I shook this thought and went back to running.  It is totally coming.

After leaving Hollywood Studios, we made our way towards the Disney Boardwalk.  Running along the Boardwalk was near the water and pretty, and the wood planks were softer than the pavement we'd been running on all day.  But to be honest, I don't remember much about it.  Because it was here, right about at mile 24 that Erica and I spotted Coach Nadine.  I cannot explain the gush of excitement and emotion I felt at seeing her standing there, waiting.  She told us she had gotten there less than 5 minutes before we passed by.

Nadine has been my coach for 3 of my 4 marathons seasons with Team in Training.  I felt like I connected with her the best out of any of my coaches my first season.  On summer team last year, I watched Nadine go through what must surely have been one of the toughest times of her life and still stand with us to support us.  When I think of all the money we're raising as a team, I think of what Nadine had to go through with her dad last summer (and the years before that) and hope that what we are doing will prevent that from happening to people in the future.  This season, Nadine was there with us for almost every Saturday and Tuesday run.  Tom, her dad's name, (along with my grandmother, Tim, Yanni, Darren, Heather, and Maya) was written on the back of my purple shirt.

So when I saw Nadine in the final miles of the biggest challenge I had yet to undertake, when emotions are running at their highest levels, I got goosebumps and couldn't stop smiling.  I know Erica felt it too.  And so did Nadine.  She was wiping away little tears as she tagged on to our pace and started running with us.

Nadine ran with us for about a mile.  And it was here, as I said to Nadine "I haven't hit a wall yet!" that I finally realized, it's not coming.  I'm running a race, and there is no wall.

Nadine left us around mile 25 and it was here that I think it sunk in for both Erica and I that we only had a little over a mile to go before this was all over...just about 10 more minutes.  Erica had been feeling better after taking the Tylenol at the med tent back before going into ESPN, so as we said goodbye to Nadine and entered Epcot, our pace started increasing drastically.

At this increased pace, the numbness that the miles had created in my legs went away a bit and I could feel a little more pain.  It was here that I though to myself, you are not PRing this race.  There is no need to push this.  Slow down, enjoy it, and just get there.  So I asked Erica if we could pull back a bit.

And we did.  We ran through all the countries in Epcot (I don't know which, this part is a little hazy for me).  I remember seeing Aladdin and Jasmine and maybe a few other characters.  Then, at some point, we rounded a corner and I recognized where we were.  We had run this little path in the half the day before.  The finish line was up ahead and just around the corner.

This was AWESOME knowing exactly where the finish line was.  In past marathons (please refer to my RNR San Diego recap), finding the finish line has been torturous.  But I had already run this finish line, so I knew exactly how far I had to go.  It was a huge relief.

We ran around the big Epcot ball, past the choir at mile 26, under a tunnel, and into the finish line chute.  I heard my parents first.  I heard them screaming my name and then searched the crowds to see them waving their signs, yelling as loud as they could.  That was the first big finish smile.  A few paces down from them, I heard our teammate Dorothy yelling.  We passed her before I really heard her, but I whipped my head around in time to see her and let out another smile.  And then it was just a couple hundred yards between us and the finish line.

So Erica and I sprinted.  All out sprinted to that finish line.  We flanked one poor guy ahead of us, passed him with all we had and crossed that finish line in the exact same second with hands up in the air, smiling.

Done and done.

We did it.  I did it.  The Goofy Challenge.  39.3 miles.  2 days.  

NO WALL.  

And to be honest, it wasn't the mileage or the back to back days or anything else I was thinking about.  The first thought I had as I crossed the finish line was I DIDN'T HIT A WALL. Holy crap.  How is that possible?

Erica and I made it through the finish line area, got our Mickey medal, headed over to the Goofy tent to get our Goofy medal, and slowly made our way back to the TNT check-in tent.  I ran into a TNT friend from 2 years ago at bag check.  My parents were there waiting for me with smiles and hugs and my new "I did it" Goofy Challenge shirt at the finish line tent.  And all the while I was thinking, why are my legs still functioning semi-normally?  Why doesn't it hurt more?  Where was that amazingly tough mental battle I had expected to fight today?  Why can't I just shut up and enjoy the fact that I completed the Goofy Challenge!?!

Post-race...so confused but still smiling.

Is it weird to say that I feel like I cheated somehow?  That I feel like I didn't suffer enough?  That there was some sort of magical Disney bubble around me that kept out all the tough stuff?  This is not to say that I didn't struggle.  My legs hurt throughout the entire race.  My hip gave out on me.  I was tired.  But still...I feel like I didn't have to fight nearly as hard as I had in previous marathons.

In yesterday's post, I started of with a list of reasons why this race should have gone horribly wrong.  But now, at the end of the race, I suddenly found myself trying to think of a list of reasons why it didn't go horribly wrong.  Here are some theories:

1) Fueling.  In past marathons, I only took a GU every 45 minutes and carried just Nuun (a sport drink with no calories) in my water belt.  In this marathon I took a GU every 40 minutes, supplemented in between GUs with Sport Beans, and carried a sport drink with calories in my belt.  Additionally, I pick up Powerade (with calories) and water at almost every water stop.

2) I knew my parents were waiting for me.  Having my family there, knowing that they were there to cheer me on and watch me cross the finish line, meant that I had to finish.  It meant that I would finish, and I would finish it for them.

3) I had to be strong, and not just for me. Throughout the entire race, I knew Erica felt like crap.  So I wanted to be strong enough not only to carry myself through the race, but rally as much strength as I could to help her get through the race too.  I needed to be strong for myself and stronger for my running buddy.

4) I was already hurting, so it didn't matter.  One thing I've learned from training runs (especially tough Tuesday hill repeats or speed workouts) is that I usually perform better when I'm already sore.  My theory is: I'm going to hurt no matter what, so may as well just push as hard as I can.  I think this translated to the Goofy marathon.  My legs were tired and began hurting by the second mile.  So at mile 18 or 20 when my legs would typically start aching, they had already been aching the whole time...so it didn't fell like anything changed.  They just kept on hurting.  No big deal.

5) I didn't feel the heat. Was it hot?  Of course.  Was it humid?  Oh yeah.  But during the race, I didn't feel at any point like I was overheating or drowning in humidity.  Erica was throwing water on her head every chance she got and I talked to other teammates who felt that it was unbearably hot during the race.  For whatever unknowable reason, I didn't really feel it.

6) Coughing up phlegm didn't really hinder me.  My cough persisted throughout the race, but I just coughed it all up and kept going.  My throat didn't hurt and my lungs seemed to be functioning normally, so I just kept on going.

7) After hip-numbing with BioFreeze, I couldn't feel it anymore.  Literally.  Couldn't feel my hip.  Not sure how far I would have made it with a seized-up hip without that stuff.
8) We ran slow.  I think this was probably the biggest contributor.  At no point did I feel like I pushed myself beyond the point of discomfort.  Total for the marathon we averaged a little over a 10:00 min/mile pace.  Our average moving pace (minus all the stops) was 9:43.  Slow and steady finishes the race.  Slow and steady finishes the race in a strong way.

Post-Race

After the race, we hung around the finish line for a bit after sending my parents off to enjoy Epcot for the rest of the day.  Then we headed back to the hotel to clean up.  Erica took a nap for the rest of the afternoon.  I joined MacKenzie, Annemarie, and a few other teammates to watch the 2nd half of a very disappointing Seahawks game.

We had our TNT victory party, which was a little disappointing as the hotel kicked us out of the ballroom at 7.  There would be no epic dancing evening like in San Diego.  But Mickey and Minnie did come to visit.

I was actually more excited to see them than I thought I would be.

MacKenzie and I decided to move part of the party to our hotel room.  We drank some champagne, chatted about the race, and watched some of the Golden Globes here and there.  Mom and Dad returned from their Moroccan belly dancing dinner in Epcot and sat with us all in the hotel for a while as well.  I guess it was just what we all needed to finish the day.

And we all slept.  Because we needed it.  And deserved it.

The Aftermath

Our flight took off from Orlando at 3:30 Monday afternoon.  I had brunch with mom and dad and then said goodbye to them as they left an hour earlier for their flight.  We arrived back in Seattle at 8:30 PM.  I went home and crashed into bed so I could wake up and go brag about my weekend to my first graders the next day.

A few things have surprised me in the days after the race.  I wasn't that sore.  I was WAY more sore for my 3 previous marathons and even some of my halves where I pushed myself to my limits.  I felt like my legs were fully back to normal (at least walking-wise) by late Wednesday/early Thursday.  I was also not overly tired this week.  In the weeks leading up to the race I was always tired, no matter how much sleep I got (probably a result of the high mileage training I was in).

Also, I had decided about a month before the race that the 2 weeks after the Goofy Challenge, I would force myself into a self-imposed 2 week hiatus from running.  I'd been running a lot, and I'm about to jump right back into another marathon training season.  I'm worried about a burn-out and I think a forced 2 weeks off will help to get me excited to run again.  

Up until tonight, as I'm writing this, I have been thoroughly enjoying this hiatus.  I had no desire to get out and run this week.  It's been freezing in Seattle and a gloomy, thick fog has been hanging in the air for 2 days straight.  But now it's Friday.  And Saturday mornings are long run mornings...but not tomorrow.  Tomorrow is the only Saturday I have to sleep in before the new season starts next week, and instead of being excited about sleeping in, I'm suddenly thinking that it's going to be really hard not to run tomorrow.

But I won't run tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that.  I'm going to rest and revive and rejuvenate my running legs.  I'm going to re-energize and get excited for a new, ever-eventful Team in Training season.

And throughout it all, I'm going to keep asking myself those lingering questions that the marathon always leaves me with: Why did this race turn out this way?  Why did my body react in such a way during this race? Why do I keep feeling the need to go back and do it again?

Why?

I guess I'll just have to find out in the next one.

This one's going to be pretty hard to beat though.