Gladys Perez Ran and Ran and Ran!

Dear Friend,

Well, I met two of my three goals for my first marathon on Sunday, October 26th. I met my fundraising minimum--that's one--and two, I finished the 33rd annual Marine Corps Marathon (cowbells should ring here). It took over six hours, but my sister Laura and I were able to do it, most of the time with her dragging my butt when I got tired or cranky, which was often.

We started off well, but soon Laura was already going too fast for me. Remember, we trained separately, she has done a marathon before and is a lot fitter than I, so I was having trouble keeping up with her. So I told her to go ahead of me and I'd meet up with her. NO GO! We were going to do this together. So we agreed to do my regular run/walk regimen of 5:1 (5 min running followed by 1 min walking). Even that, though, became challenging after a while and I started to pant. Laura noticed me panting and pronounced that I was not breathing correctly and she proceeded to talk me through correct breathing practices. I thought I might kill her or at least smack her but I didn't want to get stressed so I tried to follow her instructions. Not surprisingly, I got really stressed out in only a few miles--between trying to breathe correctly and hearing my sister tell me I'm just "like Mami," I thought I might flip but I was OK. Now, I think my mother is awesome, but it's never helpful when your sibling tells you, "You're just like Mami!" The topic is too loaded, the relationship too close, it's bad form, all that stuff... My neuroses took over and we were around mile 8.

I guess it makes sense that we'd drive each other somewhat crazy, going through an activity like this with a close family member as we were. I've heard of marathon weddings but now after this experience, I'm sure that those couples must get "divorced" at least once sometime between miles 8 and 26. Laura was great, though. Everytime I told her she was annoying me, she gave me permission to tell her off or smack her or whatever AFTER we crossed the finish line. Until then, she was going to do her best to get us there... well, how do you argue with that?

In any case, Laura solved my breathing problem finally with a brilliant idea. She suggested that we sing, so sing we did. We sang disco songs, musical theatre songs from shows like Chicago, Gypsy, etc, pop songs, Disney music. Sometimes she'd sing something I didn't know and I'd la-la-la along with her and vice versa. Once Laura's friend Heather was on the sidelines and decided to accompany us down a hill. While they chatted, I burst into a beautiful rendition of "Being Alive" from Company. It was mostly beautiful because we were running downhill and then on flat terrain--that's a beautiful thing in and of itself. Many of my uphill songs didn't sound so hot.

When we weren't singing or discussing my breathing and who was more like Mami, we'd chat or just enjoy the view. The marathon course is very nice, with views of the Potomac and all the monuments. Of course, by the halfway mark every part of my body hurt, so the views weren't doing much for me. We met some lovely people, though, from Danielle whose knee went out and walked with us a ways, to the lady who really enjoyed musical theatre AND our singing!

One thing that surprised me about this whole running thing was the propensity that some of us runners have to, uh, go to the bathroom urgently while running. In the weeks leading up to the marathon, I tried to deal with this via diet, changing my routine, etc. and finally resorted to over-the-counter help on the morning of the marathon. It didn't work, though, so in addition to the pain in my knees, ankles, hips and back and the breathing, singing and running with my sister, I had to go potty pretty badly twice during the marathon. The first time we were on Spout Run, a nice downhill highway. Laura spotted a high and wide rock which would provide perfect cover. Yay Laura! It worked great and there were certainly many runners around us doing the same thing, which was a bit surreal. The second time, we had already taken a pit stop at a park restroom, with nice running water and everything, and we got to stretch and refresh ourselves before starting up running again, when the urge hit and the nearest stop was a Martz tour bus that said "Marine Corps Marathon Shuttle." The bus was empty except for the driver and her helper. They were quick to point out that port-a-potties were close by, but I didn't think I'd make it, so they relented. How do you say no to a desperate woman who's trying to finish a marathon? That was the last time nature called, right after the halfway point. Thank goodness!

The second half of the marathon was painful and stressful. Everything hurt and the water stations, especially around miles 20-22, were poorly spaced and I was thirsty and hungry, munching very carefully on sourdough pretzels so that I wouldn't choke--we had very little water left. We were walking now, and as a TNT (Team in Training) Coach, Tiff, approached us at mile 22 to see how we were doing, I honestly couldn't put a brave face on. All I could think of was how thirsty I was, how much it hurt to keep putting one foot in front of the other and how there were a little over 4 miles to go. Also, I was swollen from the shoulders on down to my fingers. That's a sign of dehydration, which salt packets (ie ones from McDonald's, etc) are good for. I'd been downing salt packets all morning and the night before but still got the swelling. As we approached Tiff, we had decided to have salt at the upcoming hydration stations. I woefully showed Tiff my fingers and hands and he immediately offered me some salt. I responded that I had some and shuffled around in my pockets for the baggy with the packets. Laura had a habit almost the whole time of walking ahead of me, which didn't bother me usually. At this point, though, I offered the baggy with the salt to Laura, thinking she would take a packet and give me back the bag. Instead, she trotted ahead toward the water station with it, thinking I was right behind her. That was it!

I turned toward Tiff and tearfully said, "she took the salt!" Then I just burst into tears, it was all too much. Tiff just kept saying, "I have salt, take salt, I have salt, here's some salt." I took the salt he offered and just downed it without even getting water yet. Intense pain, panting, swelling, chafing, having to go to the bathroom--none of these things made me cry. SALT made me cry. Apparently this is known as hitting the Wall.

Sometime during this meltdown Laura turned around and noticed I wasn't behind her, then saw me freaking out and came back to comfort me. I couldn't even tell her why I was crying, I was just blubbering, "Why am I crying? What's wrong with me? I can't believe I'm having a meltdown, this is not the time!" At this point I wailed even more, then I tried to rationalize to them that "I am a [sniffle sniffle] life coach! [gasp] I moti-motiva-motivate people... I don't know what is going on with me!" Then I cried a little harder and eventually it passed. I probably would have cracked up laughing if I were they, but both Tiff and Laura were very sweet and understanding.

Once I was breathing more evenly, medicated with Tylenol (given out at the water station) and hydrated with Powerade and water and salt, Tiff left us to help some of my other teammates and Laura and I were left to each other for the last 4 miles. I felt curiously neutral and very grateful to Laura and to my coaches and I realized that I was going to finish a marathon. Wow.

We walked and ran, walked and ran, walked and ran and aside from thanking Laura for her consistent "You're doing great" comments and returning them to her, we didn't say much except for "OK, let's run now" or "I need to walk now." Around mile 24, Laura turned to me and said, "that meltdown did you some good, didn't it?" I replied happily, "Yes! I wish I could have had it during mile 1! Let's power walk!" I felt just dandy, considering I was in serious pain. Maybe it was endorphins that took over?

Finally we're on the long highway stretch between mile 25 and 26. The finish line was so close, we're so happy to be almost there and Laura said, "Want to sing again?" Did I ever? Of course!! As some other coaches approached us to see how we were, they got to hear some "Summer Lovin" from Grease, meet my big sister and then just give me some last minute pointers on how to get up that final hill--yes, you read right, mile 26 to 26.2 was very stupid and steep--and finish.

So we tiki-tikied up the hill (my coach's term for uphill technique) and as it flattened out I could hear Maria, Angel, Emily, Isabel, Ralphy, Angelina, Maggie and Teresa screaming our names as we saw the finish line ahead of us! Laura was racing up to it but I was calling out, "Wait! Please!" And she kept saying, "Push yourself, we're there! Come on!" So I pushed and pushed and soon enough I was on the other side, asking anyone who'd listen, "Are we done? Is it over?" I was a little delirious, I think. Then I burst into tears all over again, and instead of smacking or telling Laura off, I grabbed onto her and hugged her and thanked her and cried all over the poor tired woman. She laughed and just kept telling me, "Don't thank me, YOU DID IT! YOU DID IT! You just ran a marathon!" To which I just blubbered, "Oh my God, I ran a marathon! Thank you thank you thank you thank you!"

And that's where I'll leave my account. As always, from the bottom of my heart, I thank YOU for your support!

Best,

Gladys Perez