Race report – longer than “war and peace”.

(this skips back and forth, and isn’t chronologically correct, but it offers insights to my day, the point of view of my friend and running teammate Ron, and my first hand response to him. I’m still blurry on ceratin aspects, but I can’t keep my audience waiting. ha!)


I have never been in that much pain in my life, and I never will be again.

People say that a marathon changes who you are. People say that a marathon is one of the biggest challenges you can set forth for yourself. People say that a marathon is a battle of personal will. What I take away from my first marathon is that it allows you to see everything that’s good in mankind.

The race was tough. I never settled in, I never felt comfortable with the pace, I never felt comfortable with my breathing, I just never felt good. I knew after 3 miles running the first flat part on Barton Springs road that I wasn’t at my prime, and that this was going to be a battle against myself to make it through, and I was the underdog. I mean, you know it’s not your day when by Mile 3, you’ve already had to stop to tie your shoe lace, stopped to pick up your water bottle you dropped, lost a Hammer Gel and gone back to pick it up, and lost a Power Gel a 2nd time which you gave up on. I was a mess.

As I’m sure anyone else will probably say, the first 7 miles were relatively easy. You’re fresh, you know you’ve trained, and 7 miles, you can do that in your sleep. 7 miles is almost an insult when it’s on the calendar as the longest distance for the week.

Ron, my running buddy and I were in synch. We played well, he would slow me down, we would hold each others waters, we let our pace group run away as they were going way way too fast, and felt content. I saw familiar faces in crowd along Barton springs, Lamar, 5th street republic square . Buzz, Kenny, Maggie, Missy, JJ…

The hills of Enfield and Exposition were just that. Hills. I’m good at hills. I’ll take anyone but coach sisson on any day in hills. I feel strong in hills. I actually welcome hills on runs. I am hills. We came out of the hills 30 seconds ahead of the pace we were at going in to them. (Maybe this was the beginning of the end? Maybe I used up energy I shouldn’t have. Would 30 seconds or a minute slower have helped? Who knows. We rocked the hills, and I’m happy about it.)

I wanted to throw in the towel after 14 miles, or at least give up on my ‘ridiculous’ goal and slow down by 45 seconds or so, but somehow I kept going and I’m glad I did. Mostly because Ron was there, and a team sticks together.
- He told me there was no plan b. He pulled me along when I asked him to on shoal creek. He did everything you could ever ask of someone you would want to go to battle with. He was my wingman, the best one you could every want -

I also knew emotions and good and bad luck comes in waves, and maybe I’d eventually get dealt some good hands from the deck of fate.

Seeing each and every friendly face amongst the crowd made it oh so worth it.
Coach Ruth and Kamran, Nice Megaphone action. I heard ya! All the Rogue coaches and staff, fantastic. Panther, thank you. Buzz and Kenny (slap punch slap) – amazing. Marla, I could hear your voice on exposition but the sun was blinding. Albert, your enthusiasm was contagious, and carried me for longer than you would believe. Bryan – what an unexpected surprise. You got me back up from the mental gutter I’d been in for a long long time. Holly – You were everywhere! I know I’m missing people, but I’m still a little blurry on many of the details. Yeah, see, Trey, you thought I’d forget you didn’t you. You get the MVP. 5 or 6 spots on Duval and Red River alone! (your voice carries! Wow)

Ron and I got separated at around what I thought was Mile 19… he says 21. That’s how brain dead I was. Ron’s email to me this morning:

Wiley, this so bizarre. This is my recollection:

At mile 21:
Wiley: Ron, do what you got to do, if you need to go...

Ron: Bullshit, there is no plan B, we are gonna hit 3:15, blah, blah, blah (lame attempt to get us both psyched.) At the time I thought: I guess it worked, he took off.

What I wasn't saying out loud was that I was starting to cramp in my quads, but the demons were telling me all about it.

We turn on Avenue H and you are drifting out of sight. Although I'm pissed that my cramping is keeping me from hitting MGP, Mentally, I get a peculiar comfortableness (is that a word?) that I'm not holding you back and that you had a chance at 3:15.

I press on and my pace drops to dead-on 8 minute miles and eventually 8:30s and I start the acceptance phase. Despite how I feel, I start having a lot of fun with the crowds/spectators. I pump my fist in the air when they yell my name or "duane's world", I get to the band jamming in front of the memorial and I'm in the shade and the only runner around so I start pumping my fist in the air as I run by. (I was a bit delirious.)

Now mind you when all this is going on, I think you are running strong, and just my make it under 3:15. I find out at the DC reception from Big Man that he passed you and you were struggling pretty bad. Now, I learn that Big Man came in at 3:22ish and I came in at 3:18:28. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks: I ran by you and had no idea. It was a shitty realization. I felt better being fat, dumb, and happy that although I missed our BQ, you probably made it. I'm really sorry, and I really want to hear details from you.

My reply:

i said on my blog and told people last week, that nothing would stop me. I would have to physically collapse to fail. But i wanted to stop on shoal creek (mile 14). i wanted to go home. i never felt comfortable like at Decker 20KM or the first 3/4rs of ara20 miler. I wanted my car to be around the next corner.

I didn't want to say anything as there was on reason to put demons in your head, but my hamstrings where twitching on shoal creek. my calves were slowly cramping more and more just after northcross mall (mile 17). I was miserable almost all race long, for sure after the hills.

Fast forward to mile 19.
Somehow, i kept going. Getting Nedra to run with me/us was a life saver. i really wanted her to be your rabbit too, but somehow you weren't next to me, and I had no physical ability to turn around and look for you. i asked Nedra a few times where you were and she said you were 20 feet behind us. i hoped you'd make it back, and assumed you were close. i was delirious.

I even started quoting the movie gladiator out loud to try and snap out and get energy. Ha!

“ If you find yourself walking in the fields, fear not, for you are in Elysium, and you are already dead. What we do in life…. ECHOES IN ETERNITY!!!”

I told nedra over and over, probably 30 times. I can't do this. and she would constantly repeat, you can do this. I can’t do this. bullshit, you can do this. you just aren't thinking straight. I can’t do this. you're gonna do this. I can’t do this. you can do this. Nedra, I can't do this. yes you can. you can do this. you're doing it. you're not stopping. You’re going to Boston. I can’t do this. You can do this.
Nedra, Gu. Here you go. Water. Here you go. Gu Water Gu Water

Any way, my tank was empty by Hancock golf course, she fed me 4 gels in 3 miles. I got blurry vision on Duval, but realized i was close and just decided to hang on. I wanted to just make it to the other side of congress. If i could just make it around congress, I’d be home.

i walked 3 times i think. on red river, on Duval, by the stadium, just 10 seconds. she agreed to let me walk 10 seconds. i wanted to walk for the rest of it, but i made a deal, so i lived up to my end and started running again. It was a deal we'd had in Dallas when I paced her, so I knew she'd accept but i also knew I had to start back up.

I turned onto MLK and was mentally lost. it was beyond pain. pain was so bad, it didn't even feel like hurt anymore. It was byond hurt. My entire body was in shock i think, because it wasn a weird pain. (not sure if that makes sense) but dammit, it was so close.

I clicked the timer at mile 25, and i was 1 min ahead of the pace band. (so 2 mins ahead of Boston) I continued charging up the hill, nedra telling me that I was made to climb hills, that hills were what i do best, that hills are nothing for me, as she had yelled at the 38street hillhell. my triceps were cramping as i pumped my arms up the hill.

I didn't slow down. Thinking back, that's what doomed me. It was entirely my fault. I conned Nedra into believing that I was behind pace, because I hoped that would help convince her to let me stop. I had plenty of time, but i didn't take advantage and crawl up MLK and Speedway to the capital. I should have taken it super easy.

We crossed the barricades at the capitol and I asked for 10 more seconds of walking. I deserved it. She granted, i walked. she said last night, that I then started to run, but stopped immediately and my body went straight as a soldier in full salute. i then crumbled to the ground. every muscle in my legs, and arms cramped up.

Call it divine intervention, call it luck, call it coincidence, call it whatever you want; some friends (Dan, Joelle and kids, and Randy and his dog Sambo) were at the light by the barricades and saw me collapse. They were there in no time, and pushed on my toes so i'd live.

I'm not sure how long i was in the middle of the floor, on the asphalt, but it was a while. 10 minutes or so maybe? I asked them to lift me up so i could try to go again. there was no going. my body said enough is enough. i tried that a few times, but each time i cramped back up and lied back down.

I eventually decided i should move out of the middle of the street and on to the curb. i was stuck there. not an ounce of energy in the tank, in the reserve, in the reserve's reserve. You ran by, and i cheered you on. You didn't look my way, but i hoped you heard me. i looked at my watch and knew you failed our goal too, but i was so happy to see you run. you were still running, and i was happy. Triscuit ran by, ostrich ran by. I cheered them on.

I hung out unable to move on sitting on the planter. i had no energy. i saw a lady with cookies in a zip lock, forced nedra to get them to me. i ate a cookie, and 2 reeses pieces.

not to drag this on... I eventually stood up, decided it was time to go. I had cancelled my plan for a sub 3:30, and my plan for a sub 45, but something in me made my new goal 3:59.

By this time, Marla had found me too... i used Nedra and Marla as my human crutches for the last 1200 meters. 1200 meters is all i had left when i fell apart. 3 laps around a track! That’s it!

I limped in agony down the capital hill, my friends next to me all the way. Another friend(Jason) spotted me on congress and joined my caravan. It was fantastic. Them being there, walking with me was phenomenal. Some was a blur, not sure how long they all stuck with. I saw the Distance Challenge balcony, and saw Ian (my friendly nemisis), I waved and yelled at him. I was so proud that he was up there. I eventually was getting closer and closer to the finish line. it was there, i could finally see it. I stopped using them. i held their hands, and started speeding up to a walk. then a brisk walk (i think). Nedra cheered me on, telling me i was doing awesome. I crossed the finish in 3:56something. 51 minutes after i saw 3:06 as I ran up MLK and passed Mile 25.

Erin was at the finish, she and Nedra never left my side as they ushered me to the first aid tent.

The nurses and doctors in the first aid tent were incredible. At the worst point, i was cramping so bad, i had 3 nurses treating/holding/pressing down on my toes my calf, and my quad on my left leg, while 2 others pushed on my toes and my quads on the other leg.

I was in the first aid tent for 2 hours, had non stop pressure on my toes, constant massages on my calves and quads, 2 bags of IV fluid, and 1000 mg of Magnesium. They got me to the point where i could once again stand on my own. They were incredible.

Erin went and got my bag from drop off, my DC finisher shirt, my DC medal. Panther and rob went and got my back pack.

I honestly am absolutely humbled by the incredible acts of kindness, friendship, support, from you, my friends along the course, our fellow runners, our coaches, and the staff in the first aid tent.

It's my first marathon, and what i thought would be a race for myself turned out to be much more than that. A lesson in humanity.

My friends rock, and I am indebted to them and you and my fellow runners for a long long time.


...and in case you believe that saying, 'pain is temporary'. Bullshit. I'm so sore today. And I know I'll be sore tomorrow, and Wednesday. I predict I'll be sore until March 3rd.