Marine Corps Marathon 2014

     So I ran the Marine Corps Marathon (MCM) last Sunday.  I've been wanting to write something about it.  I've thought and thought but there was just nothing there.  I like to write but I always need an angle--like finding the clave on salsa night.  I think I've got it.  It might be of interest to some but if you're bored simply stop reading.  But then you won't know how it ends.  Ultimately, I'm just going to tell you how it all went down.
     
     I'm an avid runner but not what you'd call a real serious runner.  I run because I enjoy it.  It makes me feel good, reduces stress, and helps me connect with nature and with myself.  I'm not big into technique or running nutrition--I just run how I want, when I want, and what distance I want.  I ran my first marathon last year in Hartford, Connecticut.  That's local for me and I never intended to travel for a marathon.  I'm just not that into it and it seems like it'd be more hassle than it's worth.  I planned on running Hartford again this year.  

     I'm not even sure if I had ever heard of the Marine Corps Marathon until this past March--2014--when I came across an article about it.  This year's field was to be filled by lottery instead of the regular first-come registration.  It's a very popular marathon and sells out quickly.  So in a "why not?" moment I entered the lottery, complete with providing my credit card information.  

     The drawing came and I got my congratulatory email.  My card was charged immediately.  There was no time to think about it:  I was in!  I was so pumped that I wanted to skip right over spring and summer and go straight to October.

     "How long is this one?"
     That's the most common question I got all summer long when the topic came up.  
     "How long is this one?"
     There's only one distance for a marathon:  26.2 miles. Any other distance is a different road race, not a marathon.

     Between March and October I still had to run my local half marathon in April and my local 10K in September and about another 800 miles of training/just for fun.  There was the vacation trip to Florida in July and 3--count them--3 health issues.  Without getting too specific, the first one sent me to the emergency room with crippling pain.  I thought that would knock me out of the MCM but I was able to put it behind me after 14 uncomfortable days.  Later, another ailment bothered me for about a week--may or may not have been related to running--and could have been serious but turned out not to be.  Lastly was the house painting injury to both calves which hobbled me for close to a week.  After each it felt so great to get back to pounding the pavement.

     Come late October, travel arrangements had been made, including 2 hotel switches, my travel party was packing, maps were being studied.  I was totally psyched, trained, and rearing to go. To my utter horror, I started to come down with a cold 3 days prior to marathon day.  No way I was going to let that interfere.  I was running no matter what.  I would have run if I had Ebola.  I was running in the 39th Marine Corps Marathon!  I was at work when it hit me so I swung by the Stop & Shop and grabbed a big jar of Airborne immune booster.  I had never used it before but had heard good things.  I started pounding Airborne and orange juice all day Thursday and all day Friday.  To my amazement it worked and I staved off the cold.  I was feeling fine on Saturday but kept pounding away--didn't want to take any chances.  Marathon day came and I was in perfect health.

     Up at 3:30, the morning was a blur as we ate in the hotel room, caught a shuttle bus to the North Lot of the Pentagon, and walked with the crowd through the dark to Runners' Village.  Not much there except about 500 Port-o-Johns and about 20,000 athletes stretching. Everyone made their way to the starting corrals out on Route 110.  A bunch of skydivers and a flyover later and the Howitzer report signaled the start of the race.

     After roughly 7 months of anticipation I was running in the MCM.  Or so I thought!  Due to the enormous volume of runners in the starting corrals, I was still standing still after the Howitzer went off.  The folks up near the starting line were able to run right away but everyone back in the pack went into a slow walk until reaching the start at which point they were able to run.  In my case, it took me 11 minutes to walk to the start line before I could start running. 

     A few quick miles through Rosslyn then over the bridge into Georgetown then a few more miles up and back through Rock Creek Park.  In a flash, at 10 1/2 miles, we were stampeding past the back side of the Lincoln Memorial with a brilliant sun shining in our eyes and a massive crowd cheering wildly.  Six more miles through the Potomac Parks (East and West) and we were fast approaching the National Mall.

     There was so much going on both in and around the race that the time and miles flew by.  I was reading as many spectator signs as possible--some inspirational, some funny or at least amusing, some general, some specific to a runner or team, all helpful.  There were runners in costume:  Mutant Ninja Turtles, a banana, a cup of DD coffee, Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, various super heroes.

Around the 11 I saw a young lady with an "Oprah" sign I had been speaking to prior to the start.  She remembered me and gave me a warm cheer.  I was looking for my own spectators but never did see them.  My son Nate saw me and chased me down around the 16 for a quick greeting but that was it.

     If I may, one of the weirdest things in a marathon is how many men and women peel off the course to answer nature's call.  I say it's weird because with all the Port-o-Johns all over the place AND the discipline and fortitude it takes to be a long distance runner you'd think they could all handle their bladders a little better.  A lot of the guys will at least take a bit of cover in a bush or whatever but there are also many who just take a few steps off the course and, with back turned, let 'er rip.  The women are a bit more modest and find a big tree or other barrier to take cover and cop a squat.

     There's a lot to see during a race which you just see and don't react to until you're thinking about it after you're all done.  One such thing which stands out in my memory banks is a woman who projectile vomited a bellyful of Gatorade right in front of me.  I know it was Gatorade because of the color.  She just stopped at curbside, evacuated spectacularly, then resumed running.

     A few more miles on the National Mall with a rather moving moment for me--somewhere around the Museum of Natural History a live band was playing The Isley Brothers' "Shout" with spectators singing along and wildly waving their arms in the air with each "shout."  

     I "Beat the Bridge" with hours to spare and made it back into Virginia for the 20's through Crystal City.  Nate said he saw me again at the 24 but didn't bother me because I looked like I was in a lot of pain.  He was correct.  It was agonizing.

     Back past The Pentagon where we had been walking in the dark some hours earlier.  I ran past a guard--I'm not sure if he was cheering on the runners--but he was in full gear with a machine gun at the ready.  His gun had like an 18- inch magazine in it and he had extras on his person.  This was Pentagon security but, of course, race security was tight and visible--and invisible--everywhere.  There were cops up the yin-yang.  Regular cops, bicycle cops, K-9 cops, SWAT cops, mounted cops, UC cops, federal cops, state cops, town cops, metro cops, park cops, etc.  Anywhere there was water there were cops in the water.  Police boats were patrolling and SWAT guys were riding PWC (personal water craft) along the shoreline.  Helicopters were flying overhead with snipers and spotters hanging out the doors with guns at the ready.  It was all very heartwarming.

     The 25.  The 26.  Then a hard left up a short, steep hill.  My kin saw me here and was calling out to me but I didn't hear them.  At this point all I could hear was noise.  Past the spectator bleachers and across the Finish Line!

     But there's something I haven't mentioned.  This was the Marine Corps Marathon.  Thousands of our country's Marines were present.  There were Marines in uniform everywhere--mostly in desert cammo.  And it's important to know that these Marines were not working under orders.  Every one of them was a volunteer on his and her own personal free time.  There were 2 Marine escorts on every shuttle bus; Marines directing runners to the start and manning Runners' Village; Marines lined up shoulder to shoulder at the start cheering on the runners.  If you wanted a handshake, high-five, or fist bump you could get it from a Marine virtually anywhere on the course.  Even on the most isolated stretches of the race there were Marines strategically located and making their presence known.

  Marines were manning every water station, every Gatorade station, every food and gel station.  There were 2 Vaseline stations with Marines passing out blobs of the petroleum jelly on tongue depressors.  I've never used Vaseline as it relates to running and didn't really know what it was for until I heard a Marine yelling out, "FOR YOUR LIPS, NIPS, AND HIPS!"  

     Now I know.

     Marine medics were situated throughout at aid stations and along the route.  

     Marines everywhere were cheering, clapping and yelling.  Some were shouting motivational "dig deep" and "push it" slogans.  
     
     "TWO MORE MILES!"  

     "ONE MORE MILE!"

     I didn't see any Colonels or above out on the course but I saw every other rank represented and working side by side.  The Major passed out the cup of water exactly the same as the Corporal.  I thanked and made eye contact with each Marine which I had a direct interaction with and some which I was just running past.  They all answered the same way--not with a "your welcome" but with a hearty "OORAH!"  Sometimes I just looked at our Nation's finest lining the course and smiled.  Other times turned out to be more emotional.  At the finish line there they were again--lined up on both sides greeting every runner with smiles, congratulations, handshakes, fist bumps and high-fives.

  I opted for the fist bump because I had a Challenge Coin clutched in my right hand.

     A group of newly-commissioned First Lieutenants from Quantico presented each runner with a finisher medal.  Mine was a young lady who greeted me warmly, congratulated me, placed the medal around my neck and asked me how I was feeling.

     Continuing, another line of Marines passed out water, food, goodies, thermal blankets and finisher jackets to the runners.  Marine medics tended to those in need.

     After meeting up with my party a Staff Sergeant gladly assisted my father (82) through the crowd to the shuttle buses and handed us off to the Marine escorts on the bus who assisted him on and off the bus with the care of those who have volunteered their lives to protect the citizens of the the United States.  

     God bless the United States Marine Corps.