Marine Corps Marathon Part 1 of 4: DWYSYWD

As a person who loves sleeping late, the early morning part of races is not easy for me. With the help of my fiance, RWD, I was up and at 'em at 5:30 am on the morning of the Marine Corps Marathon, which was 4:30 am in the central time zone where I live. In other words, way early. We met up with the other members of the Ability Experience, took team photos,and headed to the start line. The Ability Experience believes in the abilities of all people and works to improve the lives of people with disabilities, and one of the coolest things members of my team did was lead the race at 7:40 am when the hand cycles and wheel chairs commenced their journey of 26.2 miles. I should have started with this part of the race [more on that later], but I crossed the starting line from the 6:00-7:00 corral with another of my teammates at 8:17 am.

I made my way down the road, and under the first bridge I passed some buses. I didn't think anything of it, but now I know what they were: the straggler buses that were only minutes away from starting up and following the race course behind my people, the back of the pack.

Fortunately, I had a plan: 14 minute miles as long as possible. Since I am a run/walker, I set my timer for intervals of 2:30 running and 1:00 walking. The big thing I had to do was "Beat the Bridge" by 1:15 pm --that is, I had to make it to the bridge into Crystal City by 1:15 pm. That was about 20 miles into the race. Crossing the start line at 8:17, that gave me just five hours to Beat the Bridge. My pace could drop to 15 minutes per mile and I'd still be safe. I just had to Beat the Bridge.

Shortly before mile 1, I saw RWD on the sidewalk ringing a cowbell and cheering for the runners as they passed. I'd purchased a shrug that I could easily discard when I warmed up from running, but I wasn't ready yet. I gave him a kiss and kept going. After 13:46, I finished my first mile. Slow down a bit, I told myself.

RWD and me at the starting line

At mile 2, I hit the worst hill I've ever run in my life. That's probably not true, but it felt like it. For any readers from my hometown of Rome, Georgia, it felt like running up Clocktower Hill. I knew this hill was coming, but I had no idea it was going to hurt as much as it did. I thought there was no way I would get up it in 14 minutes. Fortunately, the spectators were aware of the evils of this hill, and there were plenty of people cheering on the runners and offering encouragement. in 14:14, I finished the hill as well as the second mile.

As I was feeding myself a chocolate raspberry GU at mile 4, I spotted RWD, still ringing the cowbell. For my non-runner friends,  GU is like a mini Go-Gurt tube but full of pudding. Very thick pudding. Like any appreciative fiance, I smeared some on my lips and gave him a kiss. Of all of the exciting moments at the race, surely this was his favorite. I also gave him my shrug and kept going.

Somewhere shortly before mile 6, I realized that this race was going to hurt the rest of the way. I had averaged the 14 minute miles I was aiming for, but I wasn't sure how much longer it would last. Even with the band playing "Love Shack" at mile 5--which pumped me up more than I should probably be comfortable admitting--my pace was dropping, and fast. My self-talk favorites of "Just keep moving" and "My [sore body part] hurts, but it doesn't matter" were keeping me moving, but that was about it. I had to change my thinking.

In college, I was given a basic definition of what it means to lead with integrity that I still use today: DWYSYWD, or Do What You Say You Will Do. DWYSYWD became my new mantra for this marathon. I was running for my team and to celebrate the abilities of all people. I started the race, and as long as I didn't incur any injuries, I would finish like I said I would.

DWYSYWD. Do what you say you will do. DWYSYWD. DWYSYWD.

Miles 5.5-9.5 were on an out-and-back loop, and I pushed really hard to make it through those miles. At mile 8, however, I saw something I couldn't unsee: the police cars and straggler buses. I am not sure how the race might have gone if this had not happened, but this was a terrifying moment.

Still, I used my DWYSYWD mantra to keep pushing.

(Read Marine Corps Marathon Part 2 of 4: Beating the Bridge here)