Yes, I finished the Sunburst Marathon! It was not pretty, but I did it in just over 4 hours. More details below.
Part 1I had some errands to run around Chicago so I didn't get out of town until 4:30 Friday afternoon. Due to the Ryan construction, threaded my way through the South side along MLK Drive and Cottage Grove, then got on the Skyway at 87th & Blue Island. The drive was uneventful. Got into town around 7:10 and went to check into the Econolodge. Crap! There's a time difference! After getting my room key, I sped off downtown to find the College Football Hall of Fame, the starting site for the marathon and logistical HQ. It was already getting dark, and I got there around 8:15 (Pasta dinner was until 8:00!). I got all my stuff - bib, T-shirt, tote bag, and map of the course. I asked about the dinner, and they pointed me inside the Hall of Fame. I wandered in and saw one table still eating, but the staff had all sat down (with a bottle of wine) and looked like they were having the last meal of the night. I asked if I could get a plate to go, though, and they obliged. Got a plate of pasta, sauce, parmesan cheese and 2 bread sticks (not very warm, but free, since I supposedly didn't get all the other trimmings). I got in the car, put the plate on the passenger seat, and headed back to the hotel. Decided to try and find a grocery store to buy some extra food, just in case. After pestering some locals, they gave me directions to the local Meijer food store, where I bought: 1 avocado, a tub of lemon poppyseed scones, a vitamin C drink, a vanilla chai protein drink, a loaf of bread (black bean salsa), and some whole wheat english muffins. "Is that enough food to fuel up?", I wonder. But I need a fork, and forgot to look for one at the grocery store. So I pop into Wendy's and furtively steal one. Once back at the hotel, I eat some of the food and the now lukewarm pasta, and watch some TV, then have a 20 minute ice bath after doing some stretching. Before going to bed, I use a light blue Sharpie to mark "SONNET66.ORG" on the back of my shirt to promote my LLS website and maybe get some folks to donate. Sleep.
Part 2I awake at 4:30 (3:30 Chicago time) so I can make it on time to the 6:00 am start. I did not want to do a repeat of my last race, where I had to run from the hotel to the start line. I ate a breakfast of chai protein drink, 1/2 wheat englush muffin, half avocado, a banana a bit of OJ and a "goo". One or more of these will cause trouble later. I have another ice bath after stretching. I feel pretty good! I get into my running gear and drive back to the start line, and park on the street around the corner from it. There is a 2 hour limit imposed, but I'm guessing that we runners will get a pass. When I get to the start around 5:45, it looks deserted! I look around and people are just milling around. I double check where the start line is going to be, and do some more stretches. Finally, it's time. I line up in with the 9:00 minute folks, and about a minute before the start, they say "runners ready" and everyone bunches up toward the start line. Then, the unthinkable..."Runners, I'm sorry to announce we have a hazmat situation on ?? Avenue, there will be a delay of at least 15 minutes. We will let you know at that time if the race will be able to continue." Everyone is stunned. They look at each other, then leave the start area and head back to the Hall of Fame to get inside and warm up, maybe get a bathroom break, and talk amongst themselves. The 5 and 10K folks are confused why we are in there, so we explain. I take this opportunity to do some additional stretching of my problem areas. Then, exactly 15 minutes later, everyone lines up again and the race starts as if nothing happened. I'm feeling pretty good and get off to a quick start. I soon find someone who looks like she has a good pace, and latch onto her. Around mile 8, I start up a conversation. She's just had a bad respiratory infection and was not running for about 3 weeks, then started running again until a few days before the race. Then got a stomach flu! I told her she was looking good, and we ran together for a while, until about mile 10, which was at a pedestrian bridge over a road. When I looked at my watch, I was amazed.. we were running at an 8:30 pace. The 85:00 mark just turned over at the mile marker.
Part 3 I tell her I'll try to keep up with her, and she said the same.
Mile 11
Unfortunately, she left me in the dust about 1/2 mile later. A few miles later, I met Guy, a 40-ish dude. Guy reminded me of a bass player (Sam) that I played with in college. He told me about how he planned to run a marathon in every state, and Iowa was his next stop. He had done six states, and after 10 they let you in the "club". We crossed the halfway point together, and we both seemed to be going at a pretty good clip (maybe too fast). By the time we got to the east end of the course, I let him run ahead, since I started cramping up in the abdominal area and needed to slow down a bit. When we got to the porta potty in the park, I had to take a quick break. Nothing worse than doing your business all sweaty, with your running clothes having to be peeled off. I hoped the 2 minute break wouldn't hurt me too much. This part of the course was pretty confusing, with a few loops and switchbacks. My gas pains and general abdominal sloshing are starting to irritate me. I pass a girl cheering whose sign says "Show me yours and I'll show you mine". I didn't stop to investigate - many miles ahead of me. I get back to the same blue monolith and go for round two of abdominal relief. Must investigate proper pre-race diet at some point. Finally at mile 20, a lone stink closet beckons -- it's near a construction site, so I pray it isn't padlocked and head over to it. I look at my heart monitor and it says 2:51 - or just over an 8:30 pace. At this rate I can finish under 4 hours. But it's not to be! I can't seem to get enough water, goo, bananas, etc. at the next couple of water stops, and I just want to lie down and die at each one. The last hill is brutal! I catch up to my friend, who is hobbling as bit and clutching his hamstrings. Some crazy barefoot guy spurs us both on at mile 24. By this time I am cramping in 2 very odd places - my left hamstring and right quadricep, where I've never had trouble before. [Editor's note: It's Ken Bob Saxton, of course!] My usual sore spots, IT bands, left calf and Achilles, are just fine. I continue the run/walk routine, thinking I may be able to sneak in under 2 hours somehow. But it's not looking good. I realize now I had hit the wall right at mile 20.5 or so, just like all them stories you hear about.
Part 4 I can finally see the campus and the football stadium! So close and yet so far..I can see my friend limping along ahead of me, but I can't catch up. I am still forced to walk as I near the stadium, and then running alongside it. A coupleof women cheer me on and I sart running again, but I want to make sure I run across the finish line, so I walk until the last turn. I finally see the finish line on the 50 yard line of the football field, and make a run for it. I raise my arms in victory
and then grab my stomach, which is quite cramped. I turn in my timing chip and get a nice gold medal for my efforts. I suck on some cold water with no ice and sit down on the grass, taking a moment to recall the length of the race, all the twists and turns, people met and all the supporters along the way. After chatting with Guy for a bit, I realize it's fairly late and I need to head back to the hotel if I'm to have a shower. So I look for row D and head toward the outside, and then look for the buses that we are promised to take us back to the finish line. There is a long line and only one bus. Some youngsters behind me show me their medals for the 1/2 marathon - they are a nice orange and yellow enameled version, unlike my gold one, which is rather plain. I wait patiently in line and some buses arrive at last, three or four of them in full force. I get on bus #3 and take an aisle seat. My stomach is really upset now, to the point where I don't think I'll make it the three miles back to the finish. I look for a container to throw up into. Nothing. A girl on my left is sucking on some ice left over from her Gatorade. She is down to and inch of ice, then 1/2 inch, then 1/4 inch. At this point, I ask "Do you need that cup?". "No" she says, as I take it from her and promptly expel into it a light green, slightly lumpy broth. It fills about half full. I feel a bit better. No, wait. Round two coming up. The next round, the cup fills to full, with a bit running down the sides. Oh no. Here's round three. I make a game effort to fit another half cup into the millimeter of empty space, but no luck. I just hold the cup aside and go for the floor with gusto. It runs to the right and underfoot. I aplogize for my nastiness, but I get "Dude, it's ok, you just ran a marathon!" Isn't that sweet. The bus driver hands back some paper towels so I can clean up a bit. As the bus stops, I take my cup of swamp water and toss the contents into the nearest bush.
Part 5 I manage to find the car. Not an easy task after a marathon, apparently. I drive back to the outskirts of South Bend (not a long drive) and lt myself back into my hotel room for a well deserved ice bath. I hope they don't come kick me out, but I was promised some leeway on checkout time, which is normally 11:30. I take a quick cool shower and then sit in a cold water bath for about 15 minutes. Feels good! I thank the proprietors for their generosity and make my way home. It takes a while for my stomahc to settle. A couple days actually, before I feel I can eat "anything" again. In the meantime, I take notice of the damage my new shoes have done to my feet. ("You'll be fine" said the lady at Dick Pond's). The blisters are oddly shaped. No, I did not use a red marker. This is an unretouched photo!
When I show up at a band gig later that night, I am a little sore, but no more so than after a normal run. A bit of pain creeps in a couple days later, but nothing horrendous. I celebrate my victory at Joe's crab shack. Good times. Next up, Chicago Marathon!
