I arrived in Pittsburgh very nervous about the marathon.

It had been over two weeks since my last long run. My attempts at shorter runs hurt and I always cut them even shorter. It felt like I had forgotten how to run. It felt like I was losing all of my hard-earned fitness. How would I ever run 26.2 miles?

I injured my hip trying to run too fast a couple of days after my 19-mile training run. I took some days off, was able to complete the next 12-mile run, took more days off, and was able to run 20-miles, but after that I struggled. Finally I went to see a sports chiropractor at the recommendation of a friend. This was the just five days before I was to fly out. She got my hip straightened out (literally, and the sound of this was like a pistol), did a lot of work on the muscles I had subsequently pulled trying to run on the thing, and taught me how to tape the muscles to give them support when I ran. But was this enough? I still felt some pain when I tried to run, so decided that my taper would just be a rest.

Then Wednesday before the marathon I felt like I was getting a urinary tract infection. Uh-oh. My first instinct was to drink a lot of water and wait it out. With the marathon coming up though, I thought better of it and tracked down a clinic where I could get treatment. The doctor there told me it was a good thing I did that, because the infection was actually pretty bad. I got antibiotics, which started helping right away. Until Friday morning, when I woke up and felt the symptoms were back. Only two days until marathon! I called the clinic from the car on the way to the marathon expo, and stopped to get a new prescription. Luckily that one did the trick.

Besides being a bit anxious about the race itself, I worried about the logistics of getting there and back. Mom and Dad had offered to drive, but figuring out the route and the parking and the timing was complicated. Luckily Dad took the reins on this and decided we could probably get close to the start by taking the parkway in. This worked great; I could drop my bag at the gear check and get to my corral without too much walking. We left about 5am and I was at the start in time to watch the walkers go off at 6. This left plenty of time to use the port-a-potties before the lines started (of more concern than usual to me). It was misting a bit, and when it started to be more of a drizzle, I donned my throwaway rain poncho to keep dry while I waited.

The start went well. The marathon folks had announced that they would be enforcing the corrals this year, meaning that you had to start in a group based on the pace you declared at registration. This made a lot of people upset, at least those who had underestimated their pace before they started training. But it didn’t cause any problems. Unlike other races I’ve been in, I actually crossed the start line running. Since they were using chip timing, it didn’t matter how long it took to get to the start; official times were based on when we crossed the starting line.

A quick self-assessment as I started to run. I could feel a slight twinge in my left hip with each step, but not enough to cause me to limp or feel that I couldn’t continue. Whew. I remembered how easy it is to be swept along at the beginning of a marathon and go too fast, so I checked my pace on my Garmin very frequently. I had to slow myself down every time, and even so my first mile split time was faster than I wanted it to be.

Big events like this can be a little emotional. I felt my first swell of excitement Friday at the expo when I saw my name on a big wall with all the runners’ names on it. I felt the second just after the start when I passed near the building I used to work in (and the bar around the corner where we would go to happy hour). I teared up a little, and then laughed because I was usually so stressed at that job. As we headed out of downtown and into the Strip, one of the 12 runners who have run the marathon every year started singing “The Banana Boat Song”, and other runners started singing along. Everybody was laughing. We ran under a wide overpass and everybody yelled out to hear their echo. I knew it was going to be a fun day.

The first part of the course was an out-and-back through the Strip, out on Liberty and back on Penn. I think the only fault I found in the route was this, because we covered some of this same ground at the end, too. But it wasn’t too long, there were lots of bands and there were bagpipers at the Harp & Fiddle, and then we crossed the 16th Street Bridge to the North Side. This marathon crosses four bridges, and while I love that about it, bridges are hills. Sometimes steep hills. Anyway, across the bridge was a church, and on the church steps a gospel choir was singing. It was very inspiring. At this point I was smiling and really enjoying myself. Despite the rain, there were a lot of spectators with signs. You see some of the same signs over and over, but I only saw one person with a giant Charlie Sheen sign with smaller signs that said “Tiger Blood!” and “Winning!” That made me laugh.

Lot of corners to turn in the North Side, and then we crossed the West End Bridge (steep) over to the West End. This was the first time the marathon went through the West End, and they were excited about it. They were having a big neighborhood festival with lots of grilling and music. There was also a zombie.

Next we turned along the Monongahela River toward the South Side. Before we reached Station Square, we passed a big group of Marines who were passing out high-fives. I crossed over to give them some smacks. I had originally planned on having a sign that said “It’s my birthday” on my shirt, but when I got injured I was worried that it would be depressing if I had to walk or take the SAG wagon in and everybody knew it was my birthday. Now I wish I’d done it. As it was, I shouted to the Marines “It’s my birthday!” which was probably kind of pathetic. Uh-oh, I think I ran too fast through the high-five line. Better check the GPS. Oops, going two minutes per mile faster than I’m supposed to. Sloooooooow down. I could feel that in my lungs for awhile afterward.

It was fun running past the inclines and Station Square, and the view of the city over there is great. Running through the South Side was fun too. A higher than average number of people were in costumes, and I ran past some of our old hangouts like Fathead’s and the Rex. The half-marathon folks split off to return to downtown (the wimps) and suddenly the crowd was so much thinner. It was actually kind of nice.

The crux of this marathon is the hill just across the Birmingham Bridge into Oakland. This is at mile 11. It’s a long hill, and people fear it, but both times I’ve run this I’ve thought it’s not so bad. Really, you couldn’t have a flatter course in Pittsburgh than this one. There are hills, but if you’re from Pittsburgh, you can’t avoid training on them anyway. I chatted with a woman from Plum on the hill. My split says I kept my pace here, maybe even a little fast. At the top I said to a guy “That wasn’t so bad” and he said “Yeah, I hope I didn’t take it too fast though” and I worried about that a bit. I don’t think it hurt me though.

Surprisingly, Oakland did not have that many spectators. I guess the kids were still in bed. We passed Pitt and CMU, and I remembered one of my mental weapons. Aron Ralston (of 127 Hours fame) was speaking at CMU’s commencement that very day. I knew that ahead of time and decided to remind myself when things got tough that he had to spend days alone trapped by his dead arm before cutting it off, and he had to drink his own urine. I just had to run a couple more hours. And little kids were handing me Gatorade any time I wanted it.

Shadyside was next, another area with a lot of great memories. There was the card shop we shopped at, and Doc’s! And then I came to the area where Mom and Dad had planned to wait for me, between miles 15 and 16. I spotted them way before they spotted me. I was actually jumping and waving while I ran. I stopped for a bit to say hi and pick up some fuel, then set off again.

I was dreading the next section, through Homewood, a bit. It’s a fairly drab neighborhood. But as I got to the residential part of it, I remembered that the people here are the best. They were barbecuing and cheering, having a great time. Also, a greyhound rescue organization had dogs out “cheering” in this section. They were great to see. About this time I started to get some cramping in my feet and lower calves. I have never had this before, even in my training runs of this distance and more. I’m not sure what caused it; I don’t think I was dehydrated and I was getting electrolytes. It may have been my shoelaces were too loose and I was clenching my toes a bit. I tightened them and concentrated on NOT curling my toes. I noticed it at least once more during the race, but they never cramped to the point of pain.

Highland Park was a blur. I remember seeing where La Foret used to be; it’s another restaurant now. I remember thinking I couldn’t even see the city, I have a long way to go. Soon after, I had another emotional moment. I passed the store where my crib and other baby furniture was purchased. On my birthday. I didn’t expect that.

I was anxious to get to Friendship, were Ed used to live. We ran by the end of his street, but I forgot to look up it until it was behind me. I think at this point (mile 21) my brain was a bit fried. There was one more uphill at this point (well, apart from the bridge at the end), between Friendship and Bloomfield, and then the downhill that kind of killed me last time. But I was feeling better than last time. At one point in these last few miles I did feel a bit nauseous, but it passed quickly. I dragged out some of my other mental tricks. I remembered Louie Zamperini, the hero of the book Unbroken, who was shot down in World War II, survived in a life raft for weeks, fighting sharks with his bare hands, starving, until he finally drifted to an island. Where he was captured by the Japanese and tortured as a POW. He survived, and so could I in my little marathon, which he could also have beaten me at because he was an Olympic runner. I also told myself that if I didn’t finish, or if I walked, I would have to do this all over again. Also, if I didn’t finish, I wouldn’t get a medal and I couldn’t wear my marathon shirt. Notice how all of my tricks are of the “get over yourself” variety instead of inspirational? That’s because they work for me, and the inspirational ones just make me roll my eyes when the going gets tough.

Bloomfield was fun, they were having an Italian festival and there were a lot of people out. I passed a lot of restaurants and shops that I remembered, including Iron Elegance, where were purchased a lot of garden and home art we still have. At mile 23 I passed the old Pittsburgh Brewing Company (Iron City) plant, which is a beautiful old brick building. Across the street is The Church Brew Works, a restaurant and brewpub in an old church. People here (I found out later it was the Hash House Harriers) were handing out small cups of beer. I drank some just to say I did. It actually tasted good, something different. At this point I was running downhill, feeling like I had this, actually still slowing myself down from time to time so I wouldn’t kill my quads.

Heading back through the Strip again was the hardest part for me. The streets are numbered, and I knew the last bridge to the finish line was at 6th Street, so having to pass 29th, then 28th, etc. was painful. Finally though, the Roberto Clemente Bridge. It’s a cruel bridge, steep at 26 miles. As I turned toward the finish line at the other end, I could see two overhead banners, about twenty feet apart. I remember thinking “The finish better be the first one, because I can’t make it to the second”. Luckily it was. I got my medal and I was just a few steps past the finish when I heard someone say my name. It was Debbie D! She was a volunteer at the finish line, and although her shift was over, she knew I was running and had another friend running, so had waited. Plus her car was trapped by closed roads. This was great. Debbie walked me to the various food and water stations, and got my bag from the gear check for me. She helped me juggle all of my stuff so I could put my flip-flops on. Surprisingly, my feet did not hurt at all, but my shoes were soaked so having the flip-flops was great. I had my picture taken, got my Eat ’n Park smiley cookie and a bagel, and called mom and dad.

What’s harder than steel? The last 6 miles.

Post-race summary: This experience was so much better than my first. I am much older, but beat my younger self time by 43 minutes (the weather was a big part of that, admittedly). From a base of no running at all, I was able to train to the marathon in about 20 weeks. I placed in the top half of my age group, and just below the middle of all women. The last part was very hard, but it’s hard to really remember what it felt like now. It seems like it went by quickly, but I do remember having to count off those numbered streets at the end, so I know it didn’t seem like it at the time. I loved seeing my name in the paper the next day, and loved that it was at the top of a column. There was a big picture on the front of the marathon section of runners going by as the Duquesne Incline went up, and I am pretty sure I am in the picture. My hip seemed to improve during the run. It was pretty sore the next day though (along with my muscles). I was able to get to the chiropractor three days after the marathon and she was glad to see the joint had stayed put. It feels pretty good now. I am back to exercising but am going to continue to wait before running again. But yesterday, I got some new running shoes.