Salty came to pick me up at about 5:30 and we headed downtown. During the drive I focused on drinking enough water--so much that after we parked I thought I would die if I didn't find a bathroom pronto! Salty led me past the port-o-potties and I whimpered, begging to stop, but she pointed at the tallest building in sight, the Key Tower, and said "just wait!" Finally we made it to a nondescript side entrance and with a short elevator ride there we were in a super fancy gym, the Key Club! One of Salty's friends had given us the secret password for elite access. I briefly met her friend E Speed and E's sister and then bee-lined to the locker room, practically bowling over a couple other runners as I cried apologies over my shoulder.
The Key Club was nice enough to provide locker service, but they were all out of space so we stashed my stuff behind the front desk and off we went! We chatted in the elevator with another friend of hers (she's popular) and then headed toward the start. Suddenly my nerves got the better of me and I had to pee again so I jogged back to the Key Club before we hurried over to the corral. We got to the crowd close to the 3:00 pace group and Salty grabbed my hand and we weaved through the crowd, most of whom made way when they saw her belly ripe with #2. We were so successful that we grew an entire line of people behind us to take advantage of her headway! Soon enough we reached the 4:15 pace group and Salty introduced me to the pacer and took a photo of us. I felt a little cheesy, like a kid with an overzealous mom on the first day of camp, but I just smiled big for the camera. It was cute how excited she was for me!
She packed my overshirt into her bag and stayed with me to run me out of the start--we had so little time it would have been hard for her to make her way out of the crowd otherwise. As the gun went off and we all ambled forward "Cleveland Rocks" started echoing off the buildings and the excitement swelled up inside me--I was here! I was home! I was about to take on my greatest personal achievement to date! I crossed the line with a big smile on my face, then Salty high-fived me and she was off. It was up to me now!
As we headed past the Science Center, the Rock Hall and Browns Stadium I just listened to the chatter of the two pace group leaders with the other members of the group. The leaders were Michael, a typical skinny runner guy and Duane, a typical big Cleveland guy with a super bitchin' blue sweatband on his head. We hung a left on East 3rd Street and I jumped into a conversation with Michael and a girl named Liz. Over the next few minutes I managed to meet and chat with several of the other runners too, Beth and Jenine and a couple other folks. Then suddenly a mile was gone. I checked my watch - 11:23! I was appalled. I looked at the pace leaders' chipper faces and wondered what the hell they were thinking. Seriously, 11:23?
Michael, who is probably the most positive person I've ever met, must have sensed the confusion because he assured us all (not just me in particular) that we would make up the time easily in the miles to come. I decided to let go and trust. I figured if I stayed with the pacers and didn't make my 4:15 goal it would be their fault. And if I ran ahead, Salty would pitch a fuss. I jumped in front of the group to hide my annoyance with our pace, but made sure to slow up if I lost track of Michael's distinctive voice that just did not stop with the chipper cheerful prattle. "How many first timers do we have today?" He asked. Lots of us let out an enthusiastic cry. "You're all getting PR's today!" I fought the urge to groan and smiled instead. I was surprised that his positive attitude didn't bother me at all - actually it was nice to have that encouraging voice over my shoulder!
The first ten miles were full of neighborhood parties, music and conversations with the other runners in my group. At about mile 7 I was talking with Beth and we realized we were way way ahead of the pacers. "We could be bad for each other!" she said. I agreed and slowed up. She later hung back at a water stop with us and I checked in - she was okay, but I got the sense she was feeling better than 4:15. I was too, but I kept remembering what MRP had said - "The only thing you need to remember is don't run faster than a 9:30 until mile 22." I stayed with the group and we all had fun together, cheering each other on with each mile marker and alerting each other to oncoming hazards, like cars and potholes.
Before I knew it mile 8 and all the pretty neighborhoods and fun parties were gone and we came to beautiful Edgewater Park. The sun shining through the leaves lit up the trees and the grass a bright green and the smell of Lake Erie brough happy feelings from my childhood back. Home! We followed the ramp for the Shoreway and soon mile 10 was behind us. Then the lake smell was replaced with a water treatment plant and suddenly we all looked at each other and grimaced. I asked Liz, who was running the half, if she was going to break away soon. She said she didn't think so, but not long after 11 she started inching forward.
Suddenly there was a loud noise on the left side of the highway and Michael laughed and shouted at it. It was Salty's friend E, dashing along the course and shouting cheers for us all! I laughed too, and realized why E is such a character in Salty's blog. Then suddenly on the side of the highway, before I expected it, there was Salty. She looked beautiful with her big belly and her long ponytail and I was so happy to see her! I felt good and filled her in on how the first part of the race had gone. I chatted with her for a bit and then she said we should look out for Mom. I saw Mom's husband first and waved to him before I realized that Mom was on the opposite side of the road. I didn't have time to run over so I just blew her a kiss too and kept on moving. Salty stayed with me just a little longer and then was gone just as suddenly as she came. I saw Liz turn around up ahead and I cheered for her and wished her a strong finish. She waved as she turned in for the half.
Our numbers drastically reduced, we forged ahead. I nearly began skipping as we passed the Browns Stadium, then the Rock Hall and saw the big wind turbine at the Science Center. My mood was high, despite a nagging pain in my right knee. I heard Salty in my head telling me to ignore it and that's just what I did. Soon we were on the I-90 marginal road anyway, running along the outer reaches of the Cuyahoga County air field. There was a strong headwind coming off the Lake, but I rather enjoyed some relief from the hot sun. Since the course was so flat and boring the group got chatty again, revisiting each other. I checked in with Jenine - we had previously developed a plan to break away at mile 20 for a 4:10 finish but she seemed to be slowing now. Beth was still with us but looking strong. I knew she'd probably break before I did. I didn't mind. This was my race. We had a new pacer join us, whose name I never got but who was older, British, and the kind of guy you'd want to be your commanding officer if you were to go into battle. I'll call him Sarge. I liked him and kept on his heels most of the time. We passed a speaker blaring "American Girl" by Tom Petty and I had to laugh because the song had been inexplicably stuck in my head for two weeks prior. Michael piped back up with his cheerful chirping. "You guys give me so much energy! There's nowhere i'd rather be on a Sunday morning! Just think-soon this headwind will be at our backs!" They kept mentioning the wind as if it was bad. I liked the wind. It felt good in the hot sun and it smelled like the Lake. It smelled like home.
Soon we hit mile 17 and a couple overpasses that led us to Martin Luther King. I cheered loud in the tunnels, enjoying the echoes, but nobody else seemed quite as enthused (except Michael of course). We dipped down the hill and it seemed like people started dropping back one by one. At 18 I couldn't find Jenine anymore. I followed close to Sarge and chatted with him a little. As I'd suspected he was an old marathon veteran, but to my surprise he lived in downtown Cleveland. Staring at his shoes carried me over the rough pavement and when I got a chance to look up every now and again I noticed the Ethnic Gardens Salty had told me to watch out for. I cheered as I passed Slovenia even though it was empty. Sadly there were precious few spectators along this beautiful stretch, just some kids tending the Hebrew garden and a race-sponsored speaker blaring Rock 'n Roll with a cheerful volunteer and a couple families. As we came to University Circle there was finally a pack of people on the sidelines and I passed some cheerleaders in red uniforms and wondered why they weren't cheering. I wanted to cheer at them but I couldn't find the breath. The miles were coming harder now and I started to understand MRP's sage wisdom: "respect the distance."
I found some energy after we turned around University Circle and came on those cheerleaders again. "A-W-S-O-M-E you are awesome! You, you are awesome! You, you are awesome!" I clapped along with them. "Yes I am awesome!" I thought. "Look how awesome we all are! We're going to finish a marathon!!" I wooted loud for the cheerleaders and bounced ahead of the group a bit. Then suddenly came 21 and the hill up to St. Clair.
My knee felt like someone had smashed it with a brick. The sun was too hot. I hated the uneven pavement. I fought hard to the top of the hill, knowing it was the last incline. I hated the hill. I hated St. Clair. I hated the cars driving alongside us and the ghetto of East Cleveland. I reached deep down inside me, desperate to find something positive about where I was. I waved cheerfully to some drunk dudes outside a liquor store. Michael tried to get the cars to honk at us and I tried to help but it didn't work. I ran over manholes with my bad knee and hated them. The sun was burning my shoulders and I hated it. I fell behind the group a little way and started doubting whether I could keep up with them. I opened my last Gu and started making contingency plans for a 4:20 finish. Then I thought of Empress Taitu, an Ethiopian restaurant across the street from an apartment my sister had once inhabited. I knew I wouldn't recognize the apartment but I looked for the restaurant, holding on to this slice of home--that apartment was where my sister lived when I was in college, when we first started getting close.
I passed it all without even realizing. I passed the Slovenian house. And then I moved out from behind one of the guys in our group and there was Salty in a bright red maternity tank top that made her look like a giant cherry tomato. I started crying. She could tell I was fighting hard and chirped away at me, encouraging, happy, pleased. I was finishing the Gu grumpily - I hated the Gu too, and resented it because I had lost a pack of watermelon sport beans, my favorite. The Gu leaves a gross taste in my mouth and I wanted a drink. Suddenly Salty veered right and I got my wish, hurtling through a water stop and discarding the Gu after one last valiant chomp, washing away the gross taste with sweet, fresh water.
As Salty pushed me forward, back to the pace group, my vision started fading out and in and out and in. I was digging down for all the energy I had. Then I saw Mom. I ditched the pack of runners and ran over for a quick run-by hug and kiss-it was just the fuel I needed for the last push back to the pace group! Tears came but they were excited tears. I knew I could do it now!
Salty grabbed my hand and said she'd see me at the finish. I okayed and that was that. I hit 23 and pushed in front of Michael. Then in front of Sarge. I started pushing forward, passing a couple men here and there. I heard Sarge's voice behind me: "don't go too fast!" I took it as a challenge. "Eat my dust," I thought as I pushed a touch faster. I figured now I could work whatever pace was comfortable and if I hit a wall and slowed then the group would catch up to me and pull me in. I started using 5k strategy. Mow 'em down, one by one. Find some chick in a pink shirt (the athletic equivalent of a tutu) and pass her. I passed a guy in a cape. "you're my hero," I panted. He laughed loud and I bolted ahead of him. I hit the 24 and upped my pace. I passed a few more pink shirts. I turned off at 18th street and upped my pace. I passed more guys. I like passing guys. Eat my dust, guys. There was a priest and a deacon cheering in front of a church and I got blessed with holy water! I upped my pace for the Catholics! I hit the 25. Then I saw Salty again. She freaked out and squealed with excitement when she saw how far ahead of the group I was. She started hopping in circles around me, it seemed. "4:10?" I panted. "Let's go!" she replied. She cheered for me to pass pink shirts. She yelled at other people to cheer for me. "Negative split right here!!" she shouted to her friends. Then suddenly she pointed ahead. "There it is! There's the finish! Go get it!!"
I bore down. I forced myself to give it everything I had. I was mowing down other runners left and right. "Look at her go!" I heard. "Go Ginger! Go Ginger!" "She's sprinting!" "Amazing!"
And then it came. The greatest feeling of pride I've ever had washed over me and I raised my hands high as I crossed that damn line. I threw my head back and screamed a joyful battle cry! I didn't even care about time--I had done it! I had accomplished the greatest physical and mental challenge of my life! And I'd given it the best effort I possibly could, finished strong and way ahead of my goal! I was a champion!
I cried and wheezed through the chute where I got my sweet sweet finisher's medal and grabbed some water. I had run over an orange peel at about mile 17 and all I could think about was eating oranges. I ambled to the end of the finish (no oranges) and milled around inside the corral until I saw my cherry tomato sister,
who led me around in the general direction of the Key Tower as I mumbled pleasant things through my doped-up post-race high. All the endorphins and dopamine chugging through my blood stream kept a big smile on my face.
I demanded a photograph (right), which pretty much sums up how I feel about having run this marathon.
