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.

Moving to Texas was the first bullet to the running habit. Even in the north, I had trouble running in the summer. In Texas, summer is most of the year. People here do run in August, but not many do it during the daytime. I would start running in the winter, and one year even managed to build up some distance — fourteen miles was the longest run I had in Houston. And then the second bullet: foot pain. I would get severe burning pain under my toes, possibly caused by neuromas? even when walking far. A running store put me into new shoes that really helped, and I settled back into the routine of running a few months a year.

But it’s had to stay excited about a sport when just as it’s feeling good again, it gets too hot to continue. I switched to biking, which is doable even in the heat. But I missed running. Reading about Emilie’s races, and seeing Psycho Ben do his own personal marathon got me wanting to train for an event. And so I signed up for the Pittsburgh Marathon, which is on my birthday this year. And then I got to work.

The first problem I had was that I had somehow developed plantar fasciitis last summer, nothing to do with running. The running store to the rescue again; I tried on several pairs of performance insoles, and found one that helped. Together with stretching and ice massages, I’ve been able to keep the pain in check. Now on to the training. The last time I did a marathon, I used a twelve week training plan that had me running six days a week, but the longest run was only eighteen miles. By race day, I had a painful hip and heel pain (other foot that time), and I didn’t feel that eighteen miles was enough to give me confidence in going 26.2. This time I am using an eighteen week plan for beginners that only has me running four days a week, and cross training on top of that. And it has an eighteen, a nineteen, and a twenty mile run. I realized partway in that it must be the same one Emilie is using. I like it; I have no injuries, and building up to running twenty miles is a huge psychological boost over eighteen miles, despite the small difference in mileage.

I’m trying to predict how this marathon will compare to the last. I was 29.9 then; I’ll be 48 (exactly!) this time. But I feel as healthy and strong as I did then, and I’m certainly smarter now. Or at least able to educate myself better. Last time I didn’t drink enough, and I don’t think I took in any calories during the race. I didn’t think I needed to since I never did when I was training. Now I carefully plan my fuel and water, and I can tell it makes a big difference. I didn’t take enough food for one 11-miler, and it was surprisingly tough. I won’t make that mistake again. Last time, too, I started out too fast. I met someone waiting for the start, and we ran together for awhile, but he was much faster. This time I will start off slow. If I want to speed up later, I will. Having access to so many online running resources is invaluable.

The one thing I can’t control is the weather. Last time, after a cold training season in Pennsylvania and Massena, the weather suddenly turned hot and humid, and I had to finish with temperatures in the 80’s. I started to feel sick toward the end and even threw up. The weather could very well be the same this year. But I live in Texas now, and I’ve already had a few very warm training runs, and I’m sure I’ll have many more. I’m hoping that will get me through any heat wave.

Anyway, the training is going pretty well. I am slow, because I just started running in late December and was cautious about building up speed before my ligaments and tendons got used to the pounding. That is frustrating, but my speed is increasing somewhat. This makes it hard to decide on a pace for the actual marathon. Hopefully by May I’ll have a better handle on that. I had great seventeen and eighteen mile runs the last two weekends. No matter how long the long run is, by the last two miles I’m ready to be done, but that’s purely mental. Having a running partner would help, but on Sunday when I was at about 16.5 of my 18 mile run, who should appear coming toward me on a bike but Ed, to ride me in. That was so nice. He was surprised I still looked so strong. I felt good. I think I have this.

In 2010, I got into pretty good shape, so this year’s resolutions don’t involve exercise or food really, other than keep on what I’m doing. What I really want to work on is attention and focus (so less internet time), and getting back into creating things.

That said, I need to mention something that has really inspired me. This fall I started taking a spin class with Ed at our gym, taught by Ben. Also known as “Psycho Ben”, or as “The Only Good Spin Instructor in America”. Seriously, while I find all spin classes beneficial, Ben is an actual cyclist, and his classes make you a better/faster cyclist. They’re all different, and never just an aerobics class on a bike. Also, he’s inspiring, and for the last month and a half, he’s been talking during the class about making 2011 a better year fitness-wise than 2010, and about how he has started training with a swim coach to do so himself. During Thursday’s class, he mentioned that he was doing a marathon on New Year’s Eve with two other people, leaving from Oak Cliff, going up to White Rock Lake and back, including Swiss Avenue on the run. I asked him when he was starting and what pace he was trying to make (his goal was to finish at midnight). Anybody else, I’d have thought he was making that up just to get people to pedal harder, but not Ben.

Last night Ed and I did some math to figure out when he would be running back on Swiss, at about 19/20 miles. We grabbed some cocktails, a bottle of water for Ben, and a cowbell and walked the dozen or so steps over to Swiss and waited. Sure enough, within about 10 minutes, a lone running figure arose out of the dark much like Snoopy in the pumpkin patch. It was Ben, all by himself (his friends had wimped out). He was doing okay, but so happy to see us. Hugs all around. Cowbell rung. Hopefully we got him through “the wall”, which was just ahead.

Anybody who has done distance running will understand how difficult it would be to do a marathon, alone, with no support, no water and food stops, and no cheering bystanders. Ben, I salute you.