Eat Drink Run Woman

I can’t believe it — I just survived my first double marathon weekend.  As many of you may know, I ran the “Ghost of” Seattle Marathon this past Saturday.  What you may not know is I also participated in the “real” Seattle Marathon on Sunday.  Am I a Maniac or what?

Considering the Ghost was a training run for the upcoming Goofy Challenge at Walt Disney World I took it slow, finishing in 4:25:19.  As with most marathons, I was hobbling afterwards but felt remarkably spry come Sunday morning.  However, my time at the Seattle Marathon was considerably longer — I finished in well over 6 hours.  I wasn’t nearly as sore afterwards; not sure if it had to do with the fact I finished an hour and a half later, or if it was because there was no actual running involved.

That’s right — Saturday I was an athlete, on Sunday an athletic supporter.

The Ghost of Seattle Marathon
The Ghost is a small race comprising mostly Maniacs.  It follows a good portion of the Seattle Marathon course, eliminating the dreaded latter hills.  Since my darling and I have spent the equivalent of 3-4 mortgage payments on races and associated travel this year, the $20 fee for the Ghost was far more palatable than the $100 each we’d shell out for Seattle.

Late November weather is always a crapshoot, but we got lucky — cloud cover with no rain and relatively warm temperatures.  The race starts at tiny Mt. Baker Park on Lake Washington. By the time we arrived the parking lot was full, so we parked at Seward Park about a quarter of a mile away — great for a pre-race warmup jog; not so great aprés race.  Just as we finished signing in the race director called us to the start line.  The rules were simple: there were no rules.  Our official time would either be what he recorded, or what we claimed it to be.

While I had loaded up my iPhone’s running playlist with almost 5 hours of music and podcasts, for some reason it hadn’t synched up.  I lost a couple of seconds at the beginning trying to figure out what happened, but decided to just hit “shuffle” and continue on.  My darling ran with me for the first mile, then bid me adieu.  (Although he too would run the race slowly, his “slow” pace is my marathon race pace).

We ran south from Mt. Baker Park, looped around Seward Park and then headed north along Lake Washington Blvd. to the turnaround just past Madrona Park.  We then ran back to the start/finish and repeated the loop.  Even though it’s a small race it’s well-supported by two aid stations (since the course is two loops we hit the stations every 3 1/2 miles or so).

Just as I was leaving Seward Park I took a quick pee break, but by then most of the runners were nowhere to be seen.  While I was certain a few were behind me, I wondered if perhaps I indeed was the last runner.  I tried not to let that bother me — this was just a training run after all, and besides, I have run this course by myself many times before.  However, once I passed the Leschi aid station the leaders were starting to head back, so I felt I had some company.  I high-fived my darling at about the 8-mile mark, thankful to hear his ankle was holding up (he had rolled it a couple weeks ago).

I hit the halfway point at about 2 hours, 12 minutes.  While I really wasn’t looking for a specific time, I had hoped to finish in under 4:30.  As I headed out on the second loop I saw a woman in a backwards cap about 100 yards ahead of me.  We stayed at the same pace for the next six miles; while I wanted to pass her, I just didn’t have the energy.  But when she stopped for a pee break, I thought victory was mine.

After the second Seward Park loop my stomach started growling, so I took a chance and ate a couple of the boiled red potatoes at the aid station.  They were manna from heaven!  While they may seem to be an odd choice for sustenance in a marathon, apparently they’re quite common in ultras (the group hosting the race is NW Ultras, and in addition to the marathon, there was also a 50K option).  They calmed my hunger pangs and provided much-needed energy without upsetting my stomach.  I popped a couple more in my mouth at the next aid station, this time dipping them in a bit of salt.

Just past the turnaround I saw my nemesis pass me; RASSENFRASSEN!  By now I was just plodding along, clicking off the miles; I was in no mood or shape to race.  With three miles to go I looked at my Garmin and realized I was in line to beat my 4:27 Skagit Flats time.  I decided that was my new goal.  With just a few hundred yards to go I started furiously pumping my arms (my legs were shot), crossing the finish in 4:25:19.  I staggered into my darling’s arms (he finished 4:04:33), then hobbled over to the food table to wolf down some potato chips and a coke.

My darling then led me up to the parking lot where they were grilling hot dogs.  I figured walking would help, so I decided to join him to get the car (which again was parked about a quarter mile away).  I didn’t make it far before my darling suggested I go back to the hotdog tent to sit down while he fetched the car.  No argument from me!

That night we dined at the Spaghetti Factory with a few Runner’s World forumites who were running the Seattle Marathon.  A couple were marathon newbies, so we tried our best to calm their nerves.

Seattle Marathon
With all the races we’ve run, I figured it was time to give back.  I had requested we be stationed at a water stop toward the end of the race, and they had us join a team from the Coast Guard at the last one just past the 25-mile mark.  We showed up at 7:30 and immediately started mixing the Gatorade and pouring cup after cup of water.  The half marathon started just past 7:30, so we figured the leaders would be arriving in about an hour.

While the team captain knew how to run a water station, I don’t think any of the other volunteers were runners.  As the leaders passed by, one woman kept trying to force water upon them by practically leaping onto the course.  I had to tell her they most likely would NOT want water at that point — they were too close to the finish — and if they did, they’d clearly let us know.  In fact, I don’t think we had our first “customer” until the 30th runner or so.

At first we had lined up fairly close to one another, and I realized this strategy wasn’t working.  So I started grabbing 4-5 cups at a time and walked several feet in front of the station.  Should the runners miss me then there were 2-3 other volunteers behind me to catch them.  For about 45+ minutes that was my routine: grab several cups, walk out 10 feet, hand ’em out, walk back and repeat (I should have worn my Garmin to see how far I ended up walking!)

Halfway into the race one runner collapsed just up the block from us and we immediately called 911.  Turns out it was a 20-something who didn’t train for the race (at least that’s what he told the paramedics.  However, he also said he thought he was at a basketball game so perhaps he was just totally out of it).  After working on him for several minutes they hauled him away on a stretcher (so news of it in the paper, so I’m assuming he was okay).

The runners soon petered out and we got a bit of a respite while the half marathon walkers came through.  We took the opportunity of the lull to refill and re-stack both the water and Gatorade.  The first marathoner came through a little over two hours from the start (he finished in 2:33:57).  By then most of the half marathoners were walking, many several abreast.  I’m sure I ticked off a few by yelling, “Please stay to to the right; marathoners coming through.”  They probably thought, “Hey — we’re marathoners too!”  (People just don’t get it).  However, I then changed it to, “Walkers please stay to the right; runners coming through.”

While seeing the leaders come screaming through was certainly a thrill, working a water stop also offers the opportunity to witness other things I’d just soon forget.  The race shirts this year were white, and several people — several men — committed the newbie mistake of wearing those white shirts on race day.  So guess what those shirts looked like by the time they hit mile 25.  Yep — we’re talking rivulets of gore.  Several of my volunteer teammates didn’t understand what was happening, but they cringed when I mentioned bloody nipples (just saying that gives me the heebie-jeebies).

It was great to see so many Marathon Maniacs on the course (both Matt and I wore our singlets in solidarity).  While I wish I could say I was an expert at the water hand-off, I f’ed up on a couple, especially for some of the speedier runners.  As the slower runners started making their way in, I realized the train tracks just before our water stop were a huge hazard, as many runners were by now barely shuffling along.  My voice soon became hoarse after yelling “Watch out for the train tracks; water first, Gatorade second” every 30 seconds.

Once the crowd petered out into mostly walkers, my darling and I headed over to a nearby burger joint for lunch.  It was right on the route, so we continued to cheer everyone on.  Many were pretty bedraggled by then, but at least they’d be finishing.

While next year we’ll be back on the other side of the water station, I was so happy for this experience.  I’m hoping I’ve earned enough karma points to keep me hydrated and injury-free for several marathons to come!