26.2 and a Half

By the time I was a few blocks from The Start, right in Union Square, at 6:30 a.m., I knew I was going to finish this race. The excitement of 11,662 women (not to mention 920 men) in shorts and fuel belts made me jumpy. Chub rub and boobs 100% coated in Body Glide, Gu shoved down my pants, and my lucky wrist-sweat band around my elbow (because it looks cooler that way), I danced in place until the gun sounded at 7:00 a.m.

11,662 women (not to mention 920 men) scream, "WOOOOOOHOOOOOO!" And we're off! Down Post Street. The Black Eyed Peas are blaring. And I am singing. "Running-running-and-running-running! Running-running-and-running-running! Let's Get It Started, HA!" I am running with JG, a new friend I've met here. She's training for an Ironman, by the way. I know the whole, "running your third marathon without training" thing is kind of crazy, but training to swim 3 miles, then bike 100 miles, and THEN run a marathon is crazier.

We cross Mile 1 at Washington St. & Davis St. We are at 10:00 pace. A good, slow first mile. As we pass people passing out glow sticks, I think to myself that I love San Francisco, and we quicken our pace to reach Mile 2 at The Embarcadero & Bay St. in 21:30. (That's clock time.) Through the wharf, we pass Mile 3 at Aquatic Park 9 minutes later. We breathe in the sourdough that is rising and the seafood that is frying and think that if the Wharf weren't so touristy, we'd come back for a post-run treat...

By the time we reach Mile 4 at Marina Blvd. & Fillmore St., we have finished the first up-hill ascent. The clock says 38:00, and we realized we're now averaging 9:00s. On the uphill! After a quick down-hill, we enter The Fog, and we watch a man (one of the 992) pick up a woman running ahead of us. We pass Mile 5 Mason St. & Halleck St. and the clock reads 50:00. We complain that the clock is off. Everyone complains that the clock is off. We did not just run a 12:00!

We reach Mile 6 at Mason St. & Long Dr. and the clock reads 56:00. We are glad the clocks are back on pace. There is barely time to celebrate before we approach our first serious hill. At the top, before we hit Mile 7 at Lincoln between Washington and Kobbe, there is an Oxygen bar. I pass on Oxygen, but accept a Luna Bar. Never pass on a free Luna Bar.

It's downhill from here. Along the Pacific coast, overlooking Baker Beach. Towards Mile 8 at El Camino Del Mar &25th Ave. Then on to Mile 9 Clement St. & 34th Ave. There is a huge crowd and they are NOT being supportive. I run by, waving my arms up and down to get them to MAKE SOME NOISE. The crowd responds, and I hear the runners laugh. I am pleased.

Another uphill. "These hills are killing me," a lady from Florida proclaims. As I pass, I tell her, "We'll run Chicago next year. It will be CAKE!" She doesn't really get it, but soon enough I am speeding down hills to Mile 10 at Point Lobos Ave. & Merrie Way, then onto Mile 11 at JFK Dr. & 47th avenue. I am still at averaging 9:30 pace.

Into Golden Gate Park and past Mile 12 at JKF Dr. & 30th Ave. Before I realize it, I have a decision to make. Or confirm... Half or Full? I can hear CLG's voicemail. "You don't have to prove that you can run 26.2. You've done it already... But for some reason I think you're going to do it, so PUMMEL!"

And so I pummel past Mile 13 at JFK Dr. & Stow Lake Dr. and then Mile 14 at JFK Dr. & Over Dr. When I see the marker for Mile 15 at Middle Dr. & Metson Rd. I allow myself to take my first of three walking breaks. I cross the marker after a few minutes of rest, and I've only lost 10 seconds. I'm more or less still running 9:30s. I decide I need to slow down if I'm going to finish.

Mile 16 at Martin Luther King Dr. E of The Great Hwy. I hang a left. I am now committed to the Marathon. The waves of the Pacific Ocean are breaking on my right. It is foggy and almost cold. I pass Mile 17 at Great Highway & Ortega St. I think to myself, only single digit miles left! (9.2 instead of 10.2...) I then think to myself that my father would say something like that. I next think to myself that Mom will roll her eyes when she learns this. I miss my family cheering for me throughout the race. But there is a DJ station coming up again, and I recognize that we're finally hearing a good tune.... "...hustle to the mall, to get me a short set." SUMMERTIME! A little taste of Philly is always around the corner. I speed up, and rap along.

Just before Mile 18 at Great Highway &Wawona St. there is a Cingular Cell Phone Tent. A poor Cingular rep runs with me as I dial home and briefly talk to my brother. I pass the zoo and head out to Lake Merced, where we complete the four most BORING miles of the race. Mile 19 at Skyline Blvd. & Lake Merced Blvd. Mile 20 at Lake Merced Blvd. & Clearfield Dr. The only highlight of these four miles is that the Mile 20 clock is an hour off, as it says I've run 20 miles in 2:20. I know that it should read 3:20, and I can't believe that I'm about to finish a marathon in under 4:30 without training.

Up ahead! Mile 21 at Lake Merced Blvd. & Higuera Ave. And a family in EAGLES jerseys! E-A-G-L-E-S EAGLES! And oh, what's that? Just beyond Mile 22 at John Muir Dr. & Lake Merced Blvd.? Viriginia shorts! "WAHOOWA!" they yell to me. After I pass them, I turn around to see if they're still watching me. They aren't, and I sneak in a few more minutes of walking.

Mile 23 at John Muir Dr. & Skyline Blvd. I meet a woman who is experiencing quad cramps. This marathon is her first, and she is struggling. I talk her through it. Gu! Gatorade! Water! Stretch! This is going to be the BEST DAY OF YOUR LIFE! Only 3 more miles to go! YOU CAN DO IT! I am giving myself a pep talk at this point, too. It helps.

I hang a left and head towards Mile 24 at Great Highway & Sloat Blvd. My mind is tired. My legs are OK, though. I confirm that The Marathon is an exercise in mental stamina more than lung capacity and lactic threshhold. I play the alphabet game with my friends, LAST NAME only. A = LGA. B = EAB. C = MJC. D = KAD. E = CCE. F = moi! G = MMG. H = ... I can't think of an H. I get distracted and walk. But then I realize there is no walking in the last TWO MILES! I can do this!

Mile 25 at Great Highway & Pacheco St. I am smiling. The fans are cheering me on. SO STRONG! HEY, SHE'S SMILING! LOOK AT THE SMILE! 17 years of dancing and you learn to keep your chin up and show those teeth even when your feet are bleeding, which I think mine are at this point. I wager I've losts a toenail. Something doesn't feel right.

I'm almost at Mile 26 Great Highway & Lincoln Blvd. I know this race is almost over, and I can't wait to be done. At the same time, I want to suspend myself in this moment. With the crowd cheering, my legs throbbing, salt on my cheeks, filled to the brim with a sense of pending accomplishment and excitement. I cross the 26 mile mark and take off....

Only 0.2 miles to go. All for The Queen! I sprint past several runners. No one says, "GO COLE!" But I do hear someone say, "LOOK HOW FAST SHE'S GOING!" I cross the finish line at 4:25 clock time, 4:23:05 chip.

Like I do at the end - and throughout - every marathon I run or watch, I cried. Because I'm a sap. And because marathons are a big fucking deal. And because I miss having my family at The Finish. And because I don't have any friends greeting me. I collect my finisher's gear - which includes a Tiffany's necklace and a Nike dri-fit shirt - wrap myself in my space jacket, plop down on a curb, and cry.

It wasn't really that sad. It was pretty good, actually. I placed 199th out of 1011 runners in my division. And I placed 860 out of all 4279 females. Why that's nothing to be ashamed of at all!

After the race, I boarded the bus back to Union Square. I hobbled off the bus and walked the half mile home. UP UP UP to the top of Nob Hill.

Now THAT'S something to be proud of.