The marathon club.

I've joined it. It's official. I can finally say that I ran a marathon. I'm not sure I can call myself a "marathoner" (yet)...do you have to complete multiple marathons to earn that title?

I'll try to give a consolidated report of the race (so as not to bore anyone to death). I finished the Disney World Marathon on January 10, 2010.

All winter, as I trained in the frigid weather, I hoped and prayed that race day in Florida wouldn't be too hot, so that my body would be able to adjust, and I wouldn't overheat. Well, someone heard my prayer, because I got my wish...and more. I left home when the temperature was about 30 degrees, and arrived in Florida 3+ hours later, when the weather was about...30 degrees!?!?! Now, I know I hadn't wanted it to be too warm, but I was looking forward to at least a little rise in the temperature.

Since Florida was in the middle of one of its longest cold snaps EVER, the Disney marathon organizers anticipated racers wearing lots of extra layers, and made arrangements to donate any clothing shed by the side of the road to Salvation Army, or other similar charities. My original planned outfit had been spandex shorts and a singlet, and, call me selfish, but I couldn't think of any winter running attire I owned that I really wanted to cast off and never see again. A friend of mine was picking up some cheap sweats at Wal-Mart, and offered to grab some for me too, and that seemed like the best solution. I could see myself easily parting with $10 sweats. I ended up deciding on Nike capri tights, my singlet, a tech long-sleeve top, cheap knit gloves, the purple sweatshirt and sweatpants from Wal-Mart, a black ear band, and a cheap white knit hat.

I am so, so grateful that I started out with that many layers, because on January 10, Orlando tied its record low temperature. For me, running in below freezing temps was not that big a deal, because I was used to doing my long runs in similar weather - actually, colder weather. But having to get up at 3 am, be in the starting area shortly after 4 am, and stand in the corrals for over an hour and a half...that, I wasn't used to. Standing relatively still outside for 2+ hours when the temperature is below freezing is not fun.

Nearly everyone (the marathon had over 16,000 finishers) was wearing some sort of makeshift cold gear that morning as we all huddled in huge groups waiting to walk to the start corrals. Some had managed to commandeer mylar blankets from the previous day's half marathon, and wore them like capes, and even tied around their legs. Others wore garbage bags with arm and head holes cut out. I heard people around me saying they'd gone to the local Wal-Mart, and nearly the entire sweats/hats/gloves section had been bought out.

Anyway, I got up at 3 am, and left the hotel on a shuttle around 3:30 - the race started in Epcot. On the bus, I choked down half a banana. In the starting area, the announcer was encouraging runners to go through the bag check and into the waiting area, so after tossing back a handful of dry cereal, I told darling boyfriend I'd made a mistake and wanted to go home. After several minutes of pleading and persuading, he pushed me through the bag check tent, and from there it was too late to back out.

I huddled behind a large group of people for a while, trying to stay out of the wind and feed off of their body heat, without coming off as a creepster (considering that I kept moving each time the group moved, in order to stay behind them and out of the wind, I'm not sure I did very well with the non-creepy factor. Did I mention the group of people all seemed to know one another, and I didn't know any of them?) We finally started the walk to the start corrals a little before 5 am, and moving helped circulate the blood. We waited in the corral for about 30 minutes, and when the national anthem was sung, I reluctantly pulled off the sweatpants and the knit hat. I would have kept the pants on, actually, except that they were too long, and the crotch hung somewhere around my knee area.

At 5:40ish, fireworks were shot off, which was our signal to start. I have never been so glad to start running as I was that day, just because I really wanted to get warm! Though the race was crowded, I didn't have to bob-and-weave much at the start, since the start corrals and waves were arranged by pace, and seemed to be fairly accurate. During the first 1-2 miles, we ran through Epcot and by the infamous ball. It took about that long for my toes to stop feeling like frozen blocks in my sneakers.

I had seen the 4 hour pacer in my start corral, but in the first couple miles I couldn't tell whether I was ahead of or behind him. All I knew was that I couldn't see him. I just plugged along at what felt like a relatively easy pace, reminding myself not to start too fast - everyone warned me that was the easiest mistake to make. Once I got into the groove, the weather actually felt perfect. Certainly not too hot, but not intolerably cold, either, especially when the sun came up. It seemed as though we ran in the dark for a good, long while, and then suddenly, it was sunny. I completely missed the sunrise, but later, darling boyfriend told me it was beautiful coming up over the Epcot ball.

I quickly realized that I felt best if I tucked in behind a small pack of runners and stayed there. I'm not sure if it was because they blocked the wind, or because we could occasionally banter back and forth to take our minds off of things, or maybe just because it was easier to let someone else set the pace. I'd change groups every once in a while if I felt like speeding up or slowing down, but I kept some of the same 10-15 people in my sights most of the way.

Without running with a pace group, I somehow managed to stay very consistent. I have absolutely no idea how, to be honest. The marathon course took us through each of the parks at one point or another, but it went by in such a blur that it's hard to remember the order they went in! All I know is it started and ended in Epcot, Animal Kingdom smelled terrible (at first I thought someone in my general vicinity had farted, and then when it lingered, I thought maybe someone had even soiled themselves, but I later realized we were running near some fertilizer/manure in the park), running through Cinderella's Castle made me feel like a little girl again, and I ran through a tunnel in Hollywood Studios where I could see all the character costumes hanging up (I didn't even realize it was Hollywood Studios until I went back to that park later, took the Backlot Tour, and remembered running through it).

My splits were as follows:

- Mile 5, 44:11

- Mile 10, 1:27:41

- 13.1, 1:54:25

- 20, 2:53:38

- 26.2, 3:48:15

I took a Clif Shot around mile 7, a Honey Stinger around the halfway point, and sport beans a few times after mile 20. I wasn't sure how the fueling would work, since I had always stopped for 2+ minutes to take my fuel during training. But, once I was in the race, I found myself not wanting to stop at all. The water stops were too crowded and "stop-and-go", and I figured out that the best course of action for getting through them unscathed was to run to the end of the line, take one of the last cups offered, and just keep on going. I got my gels out, opened them up, and held them in my hand well before I got to the water stops; then, when I saw the tables up ahead, I sucked them down, grabbed a water, and slowed just a bit to drink it. For good measure, I stopped at the next water stop along the way to make sure the gel digested. Other than taking water with fuel, I probably took water at every two to three water stops. The Clif Shot and Honey Stinger went down well, and did their job well, but the sport beans...let's just say I will never use those again. I don't know if it was the sugar, or the chemicals, or maybe it wasn't the sports beans at all, and it was just the fact that I'd just run 20 miles, but from mile 21 to the finish I was sure I was going to vomit. At one point I even slowed to a jog, thinking I needed to get sick, but luckily it passed.

Somewhere around mile 22, I saw the 3:50 pace group leader just in front of me. I hadn't been trying to catch him, but I decided I'd try to stick with him to the end. Around mile 23.5 though, I got really annoyed with the pacer and the people running near him. Rather than encouraging the racers who were counting on him, the pacer seemed to be concentrating on regaling his pacing partner with his stories of getting drunk the night before...congratulating himself on still being able to get up at 4:30 and "easily" run a 3:50 marathon. I don't know about anyone else, but the last thing I want to hear when I'm struggling, practically dying, trying to run a 3:50, is how someone else can practically do it in their sleep. But I digress...

I felt sick and was ready to be done, but it was mile 24 and we were headed back into Epcot, where I knew the finish line waited. I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, as fast as I could. People were lined up on the side of the street chanting "You're almost there, you're almost there!" but this was at mile 25, and another 1.2 miles did not feel like being "almost there." A gentleman running next to me must have agreed, because he suddenly yelled/gasped "Where the HELL is the finish line!?!?!?" which gave me a pretty good giggle.

Then we rounded a corner and saw it! I heard darling boyfriend call my name and I started sprinting for all I was worth (which wasn't much) and though I told myself I would never do it unless I ran some superbly fast time, I raised my hands into the air as I crossed the finish mat in 3:48:15. The announcer had said "First time marathoners raise your hands!" and so I did.

And then it was over. Someone put a mylar blanket around my shoulders, someone else put a Mickey Mouse medal around my neck, and I started wandering aimlessly in the direction of the family reunion tent. A lady pulled me in front of some sort of backdrop, manhandled me until she had a good view of my medal and my number, and snapped my picture. I made my way to the bag check, got my stuff, and found darling boyfriend. I spent the next 30 minutes concentrating on two things: 1.) not throwing up, and 2.) not getting hypothermia.

After the 30 minutes were over, I got a huge rush of adrenaline realizing that I'd actually finished the marathon I'd been so worried about. Considering that my only public goal was to finish, and my only secret goal was to break four hours...I was one damn happy girl that day.

Phew that was long...pictures to follow.