No doubts

One of the things I most enjoy during marathons is the crowd support. A few funny antics or encouraging signs along the way can mean all the difference, especially after mile 20. Nothing quite rivals New York City for fans, but many of the marathons I’ve run have had their own memorable moments courtesy of the crowd. At the Cincinnati Flying Pig marathon in 2006, the entire course from mile 18 onwards was filled with silly quotes and banners to distract the runners from the burning pain in their legs. During the Virginia Beach Shamrock marathon a year later, I ran through army barracks, past men in uniform shouting, “Left, right, left, right…” And yesterday at the Providence marathon, I saw a few great signs that made me smile: One poster (held by a man ringing a cowbell and wearing a short, midriff-exposing sweater and what I hope was a wig) read, “Doubters can suck it.” Another said, “26.2 miles + 80 degrees + 2 kids = 1 hot mamma.”

I was also one hot mamma yesterday (minus the two kids). The weather in Providence was far from ideal for running. It was 90% humidity and hot by 6 am, and I knew I would need to scale back my expectations for setting anything even approaching a PR. About 500 m in, I waved to Zdenek to go ahead, and then I plugged into my iPod and spent the next 25.5 miles just trying to enjoy myself. I didn’t run hard. I walked to thank volunteers along the way. I removed my headphones on several occasions to encourage a few fellow runners who looked like they were struggling toward the end. At mile 23, I stopped, pulled out my iPod, found Lady Gaga, and put my iPod back in pocket. And then I grooved.

I ran the last few miles easy, with a smile on my face, taking time to wave back and say “thanks” to every spectator who shouted a word of encouragement. It almost felt like a victory lap of sorts. It was my eighth marathon -- what was I trying to prove? Even if I had run a Boston Qualifier, what would have been the point? I knew the conditions would never allow me to run a PR, so why hurt myself over 10 or 15 minutes? Yesterday’s race seemed like a celebration of the fact that I am a runner, and that I can treat a marathon just like another long run.

As for Zdenek, he ran over 20 minutes faster than me and finished in a phenomenal time considering the conditions and the fact that he’s really been running at my pace for 90% of our training over the last 17 weeks. I think he enjoyed himself, though I’m not sure. I found him at the finish line (literally one step behind the timing mat), teary-eyed, saying that he was so worried about me that he thought something must have happened (I’m flattered that my running anything over 3:40 is now cause for concern, but I think he was mostly delirious). He hasn’t yet said that he found it “fun,” and he’s made no mention of wanting to try another one. He did say, however, that it was the hardest thing he’s ever done in his entire life. There's some chance that Zdenek will go back to being my biggest supporter and waving to me from the sidelines, but I’m not so sure. I believe he’s got a 3:15 in him yet.

Doubters can suck it.