Running 26.2 miles was almost the death of me

Last Saturday I ran my first marathon, and it was quiet possibly one of the hardest things I have ever done in my entire life! About 5 months ago, Emily and I decided that we wanted to run a marathon together. We kind of set up a training program for ourselves and started running. About three months into it, I didn’t know if I was even going to be able to run in it because my legs hurt so bad. I experienced shin splints that killed. After taking about 3 weeks off from running, I started up again, and my confidence of finishing a marathon grew as I was able to run my long runs. The longest I have ever ran in my life was about 5 miles before I started training. About a month before the marathon, I was able to run 17 miles without any problems. (Except the occasional moment where I had to go to the bathroom and there were no toilets for miles) I had mild shin splits, but as long as I gave myself enough rest in between runs, I was perfectly fine. Emily trained for about 3 months, and her knees kept giving her major problems, so she wasn’t able to run with me.
Anyway, last Saturday in Logan was the day that I ran 26.2 miles, and it was almost the death of me. Here is kind of play-by-play of the day’s events. At 4:00 am, I woke up and drove to Logan. We stayed at my parent’s time share in Bear Lake which is about 45 minutes from Logan. (If I had to do it again, I probably wouldn’t stay that far away from the race) We got to Logan about 5:00 am. All 2,500 runners met at a park in Logan where we got on a bus, and they drove us to the starting line. At the park, I waited for Bryan, my brother-in-law, and his sister Heather-they were also running the race. Bryan ran the St. George Marathon last year, and Heather has ran about 5 marathons before this one. At 5:45, we got a school bus and for about 45 minutes-that is how long it took us to get to the starting line-we anxiously awaited the long run ahead of us. They dropped us off at the top of the canyon that we were going to run down.


At 6:50, they let the people in wheelchairs start. Yes, apparently you can run a marathon in a wheelchair-I guess you wouldn’t say “run” when you are pushing yourself with your arms, but I looked at Bryan and said, “The course is almost all down hill? That doesn’t seem fair, does it?” We just laughed and waited another 10 minutes before we could start. At 7:00 am, the gun went off, and the race was on.


Bryan and Heather were going to try to qualify for the Boston Marathon. To do that, they would have to run an 8 minute mile, so when the gun went off, they started on a full sprint, well it seemed like a full sprint to me! I decided that I was going to try to keep up with them as long as I could, and for the first 13 miles, I kept up with them pretty good. In fact, I was running at a 7 minute 30 second mile, which I hadn’t done throughout my entire training, and I was feeling really great. This feeling of greatness would soon change around mile 13 or 14. At mile 14, I started to feel a little light headed, and every time I looked up-I always run with my head down- everything started to become blurry. I thought I wasn’t getting enough oxygen and water in my body so I started to drink as much as I could at each aid station and breathe a little deeper. It also didn’t help that I was starting to hit my “wall” at mile 14 either.


At mile 16, I started to feel like I was going to pass out; my vision was blurred; I was having trouble running straight, and I was feeling exhausted. At mile 18, my conditioned worsen, and I really just wanted to quit. I couldn’t believe that I had 8 more miles to the finish line! I started to walk a little bit to see if it would help my situation. Miles 19 to 25, felt like I was walking/running the hallways of death! Never have I felt this way in my entire life! I started to envy the people on the sidelines watching all the runners, and how I wished that I was the one watching and not the one being watched.


At mile 25, I thought, only 1 more freaking mile, and I am done! As I stumbled across the finish line, I thought I was going to finally pass out. I made my way over to the water table, drank some water and tried to stretch my legs. I kept drinking cups of water thinking that it would help. I collapsed to my knees, and realized I might need to see a medic. I stumbled over to a medic table and sat down. For 3 or 4 minutes, no one knew I was there. I finally tapped one of the medics on the shoulder and said, “I think I am going to pass out.” He looked at me and said, “You look like you are going to pass out.” They took my blood pressure, which was high, figured out that I was dehydrated, and put me on an I.V. For 30 minutes I laid on the table just resting and soaking in the fluids. I looked up at Emily and said, “Never let me do this again!” I will say that I am really glad that I ran it, just for the sake of accomplishing such a daunting goal, but my body hurts so bad because of it.