We met up with everyone at the Carillon--Terrie was there too but left to get a place at the race start--good job she did! Jim2 and MrBob were with me when the gun went, and the rain started as if on cue! I had my first experience of actually passing other runners AND running with people (I train on my own). After four miles my calves and quads were already tightening which doesn't usually happen to me at that point. By eight miles I realised I was running slower than I should be and put it down to the cold setting in as we were dripping wet by now. At ten miles MrBob called it a day and went to meet his son. That left Jim2 and me and we had also picked up Jack on the way. I tried to pick up the pace and started to feel sick. All the sports drink had run out so we just had water. Drinking when you are so wet is difficult too. I started walking breaks to try and untighten my muscles and a few stretches.
Jim then said he was worried about the bridge being closed to runners at 2pm--if the race had started on time we would have had around 15-20mins to spare, but the race started 30 mins late and it took us 8 minutes to cross the line--he suddenly admitted that he was a little worried. He thought they should keep the bridge open to accommodate the late start--they didn't.
At mile 18 Jim said we were going to be cutting it very fine. At this point we lost Jack who went to try and find his dad who was walking. I told Jim to set the pace and I would try to keep up. This was turning out to be a very bad run for me--I hurt, my feet were dragging, I was very cold. BUT I went for it--I put every ounce of energy into following Jim. I could just see his heels in front of me through the rain dripping of my hat and I kept those in my sights. The golf course goes on forever, at mile 21 after running nearly four miles on borrowed energy, I feel my strength giving out. We can see the bridge, then a bus comes past us, then another. Jim says we might make it. We reach the bridge, but the runners are coming the other way and getting on the bus. Jim goes to ask if they did this by choice--they didn't. He comes up to me and puts his arm round me and tells me the race is over--we are on the bus. I burst into tears and start cursing. I had put all the effort I had into getting to this point faster than I have ever run in this state and we still didn't beat the bus.
I can't climb the steps onto the bus and have to be pushed on. It is full of demoralized runners but I seem to be the only one crying. Everyone is wet and shivering. The bus is moving--that's it, no MCM medal for me and we were only four miles short. The smell of bengay hits me and I barf on the floor.
We go to pick up my bag and my legs have gone concrete; the mud is feet deep around the finish. The marines keep turning us back. We struggle up to the road and Jim has a quick look to see if anyone at the finish line--he can't see anyone so we limp back to the hotel.
I drip all over the hotel lobby--Jim points me at the restroom and tells me to get changed while he finds the others. I can't get my clothes off--I am too stiff and too numb. My shoes are so muddy I am surprised they didn't throw us out. Most of my stuff is dry but I wore the leggings I should have changed into out on the course because of the cold.
I find Jim, he has found Tim and they park me on a chair with a Gatorade I can hardly lift. Jim has run the whole way in singlet and shorts--he must be freezing. Through the next hours the team straggle in all proudly wearing medals. I am too tired to care about not having one. Tim disappears and comes back with a US souvenir medal which he presents to me. When Mikey comes in he gives me his finishers medal--on loan he says--until the day I complete the race and have to send it back to him.
Jim2 comes in after showering and changing. I keep hugging him. Nurse Kratchett arrives with dry clothes and hugs. She will keep me going for the next day until I get back on the plane home. She is also a star.
I have been overwhelmed by everyone's support and kindness over the last few days--but particularly the 26th.
During the run, Jim told me he has qualified for Boston twice--yet he ran with me at snails pace the entire distance (bar the last four of course). That, to me, is making a supreme sacrifice. It is the first MCM he hasn't finished. He was upset for not having pushed me faster earlier. He thinks we missed the bridge by less than five minutes. Without that, we would both be sitting here with medals. But, I have to say, he pushed me to pick up speed and proved to me I was capable of it. If he hadn't been there I would have been walking at mile 18.
Sorry Jim if this embarrasses you--but I am truly honoured to have `raced' with you. Your spirit of self-sacrifice should be commended and I will never ever forget it. You spoke of maybe tackling Boston soon--I want you to do it for me and I want a picture of you with that medal round your neck.
When I started posting on these forums I could never have dreamt what it would get me doing--and more, who I would meet. It has surpassed even my wildest dreams--especially my trip to hell yesterday.
Don't anyone be upset for me not finishing. It has just made my resolve stronger to complete a marathon--I KNOW I can, we just got unlucky yesterday and the decision to quit was NOT ours.
I have an application in for the London Marathon in April-- I will find out in December whether or not I am in. I will keep training for the marathon goal and I now have the necessary kick in the pants to get me through the winter.
In October '99 I aim to be back in Washington on the start line to complete the race I wasn't allowed to finish! Cheers to everyone--but particularly Jim2--the All American Hero!
P.S. Well done Terrie. You did it!