Marine Corps Marathon

It's taken me forever to get this race recap posted, but, I thought in honor of Veteran's Day, I would post it.

I’ve never loved saying “Oorah!” more than I did on Sunday, October 31, 2010. Y’all. Y’all. Y’ALL. There are no words. But, I’m going to try to find some.

I knew that going into this race it would be emotional, I knew that. I got all emotional when we drove past The Mall arriving the other night, I mean, I knew I’d lose it at the race. Well. Well.

We had VIP passes, so, we got to park at Ft. Meyer and walk up to the race, which was really close. As we’re walking to the start, we look off to our right and the sun is just starting to peak out, and you can see the rolling hills of Arlington National Cemetery. The tears started! I mean, these are people who sacrificed and served for our country. Ohhhh the tears.

We checked into VIP and you know, hung out with the Chairman of the Armed Forces Committee and you know, Jill Biden!!!! Holy jeezus. Remind me of this day if I ever complain about my job, k? (don't have a pic of the husband and the VP's wife because he didn't want to bother her. His words: "She's a heck of a lot prettier in real life! And a lot smaller!")

I have a picture of my husband and the Commandant of the Marines. Um. With his arm around my husband like they’re old friends. Um?!

The Marine Corps band and the color guard lined the route to the start line, the USMC emblem was everywhere. Marines were shaking our hands and encouraging us. They were cheering us on. Me. Little ol’ me. Ummm, backwards much?

Marines manned the water stops and aid stations, they oorah’ed me the whole way! They high fived me. They encouraged me.

They cheered each other. They saw friends they’d served with. I saw fathers running for lost sons, I saw mothers running for lost sons, I saw brothers running for theirs lost in service, I saw so many moving things.

I finished my 26.2 mile trek at the Iwo Jima Memorial and the tears started again! I’m such a chick!

I ran past the White House, The Capital, The Washington Monument, Lincoln Memorial, The Jefferson Memorial—it was a once in a lifetime experience and I’m so lucky and grateful to have run it.

Seriously amazing. Hello, a race put on by the military?! These are my people! Organized like whoa.

I saw Marines carrying 70 year old women across the finish line. I saw Marines hoisting little boys in wheelchairs onto the bleachers to watch the race—to which, I started getting emotional and my husband goes “Oh, I’ve seen things like that all day”. Even he, boring ol’ cynical man, admitted that it was the best race he’d ever been to.

As we ran up the final hill to the finish line, it was filled with Marines cheering us on (yeah, cause, you know, they were sparse the rest of the way—kidding!) and high fiving us and they were genuinely happy to be there.

We finished, and Marines were handing us water and blankets and telling us where to go. We lined up to get our finisher medals and a young Marine put a medal around my neck and said “Oorah, congratulations, babe!”. And I wanted to hug him. But, I didn’t. Because I didn’t want to you know, get taken down by snipers or anything (yes, there were snipers).

As you know, my IT band has been giving me fits lately and I felt good going into the race. I was optimistic (which was stupid). I can usually tell by mile 4 how the day is going to play out. At mile 4, I felt great. At mile 5, I felt great. Mile 6, 7, 8? Awesome. Awesome. More awesome.

Then, around mile 9, we were rounding a corner on a downhill and it happened. Blinding, puke inducing pain. My vision got blurry and I could hardly walk, let alone run. Awesome. So, I started limp running. You know, that run where you basically jump on one foot and run? You don’t know what I’m talking about? Consider yourself lucky.

And then I had to move to power walking. For reals. And then I could run with little spurts for a few minutes until my eyes would go blurry from the pain. So I started power walking. And stretching. And whining. I’d forgotten my iPod and let me tell you, 16 miles is a long ass way to go with no music and just your thoughts. Turns out? I don’t have that many thoughts!

And I’m thinking if I can get halfway, I can totally do this. I’m not going to quit. My husband texted me to ask if I wanted to quit (since he and my family were tracking me and could see that I'd slowed down). Heck no! If our men and women in uniform don't quit, I don't quit!

Then, around mile 12 (?), I don’t remember, a Marine comes running up behind me, pats me on the shoulder and says “God bless Jack”, since, I was wearing an Operation Jack shirt and all--and I had a bib on my back that said "Going the Distance for Jack".

Whew. Well. My life doesn’t suck. It isn’t that bad. So, I start running. And I can only run for a few minutes at a time, but, I’m still running. And then walking. And I keep this up until about mile 17 where I get a burst of energy and manage to run for a few mile straight. This is through The Mall, behind the White House, in front of the Capital Building—pretty awesome.

Then we get to The Bridge (you have to cross The Bridge in a certain time so they can reopen it to traffic--wasn't an issue at all until I got hurt), which I was so nervous about because I was losing serious speed due to my IT band and my knee (which gave out right before “God bless Jack”) and I didn’t want to get pulled off the course, so, once I made it to the bridge, I didn’t even care what happened.

I really battled a lot of feeling sorry for myself thoughts once I was relegated to walking/run walking/power walking. Luckily, those were fleeting. I was being cheered on by the military. Dudes. My life isn’t that bad. And I smiled because I was running!! I was running a freaking marathon!

Remember, a year ago, I was scared to run one? Well. I’ve run five now! And I get to run outside and not be worried about my safety because these men and women protect us! Life doesn’t suck!

Around mile 21 I started to smile and remind myself that this is what I do. I run marathons.

My dad and my husband live in some weird fantasy world where they think this should be my last marathon. They are wrong. I will keep doing this until my legs fall off. Which, actually might be sooner than later at the rate I’m going, but, still!

Miles 20-24 were painfully long, through Crystal City which was really neat and packed with spectators, but, I just wanted to be done. I was sick of moving so slowly and wanted to run already.

I high fived the Marine Corps MC (Band of Brothers) around mile 24—they were out on their bikes cheering us on. For whatever reason, that totally cracked me up.

I picked it up and tried to run it in. I managed to run a bit of mile 25 and we were so, so close. You could hear the spectators. You could see where we started earlier that morning. I knew Arlington was coming up.

At mile 26, I buckled down and ran up that hill. Ran up to the finish lined with Marines. Lined with Americans. Lined with family.

It was by far, the best race of my life.

I would highly, highly recommend this race to anyone. Totally organized, so well put on, so emotional and moving. There’s a 10k too! Run the 10k! It’s so, so worth it.

I’m so grateful to the men and women who’ve served and sacrificed for me. I’m so moved by it all. So grateful to the wives of servicemen who sacrifice for us all. I’m so grateful to them all.

I wouldn’t be able to run a marathon in our nations capital if it wasn’t for them.
God bless the USA.

Semper Fi and Oorah!

Me and my bib in front of the course map at the expo. My lucky number is 8, so, I figured 2x2=4. 4x2=8. Awesome.
This was the photo above our bed in the hotel room. It was meant to be!

Finishing with a smile on my face.
The US Marines and Royal Marines at the expo. Um, hello, men in uniform with accents? Please and thank you.
Start line shot.
I love this photo.
Jefferson Memorial with the Washington Monument in the background. Awesome.
The United States Capital Building. Word.
My proud papa tracking me online all the way from California (note: this was also the day he discovered how to send me a picture via text. I'm a proud daughter!) (I don't look anything like him, do I?)
Finish line. (do you see the boy in the wheelchair in this picture? His dad is active duty and running the marathon and he is the little boy who the Marines hoisted up onto the bleachers to watch his dad start. And one of the many generals there, gave him a little lapel pin. Ohhh the tears!)

There I go! Crossing the finish line. You can kinda sorta see the bib on my back that I had made for Jack.

Me and my biggest fan after the race.

It.was.awesome. I cannot wait until next year!

Oh, also, off topic, but, whatever. Who watched the CMAs last night? Basically, I want to look like Carrie Underwood, hang out with Blake Shelton and Miranda Lambert (how cute are they, seriously?) and run away with Dierks Bentley.