…and since you’re asking today, likely won’t ever do ever again in my life.

This will be a long, rambling post recapping my marathon. It will include TMI, such as talk about bodily fluids and functions and port-o-lets. If you’re disinclined to read the disgusting vivid details of my run, stop reading now and just scroll for pictures.

(Thank you to Jason for screwing up the format of my blog guest posting while I was offline all weekend. And thank you to my cousin for live blogging my run here, here, and here.)

It was a whirl wind weekend. We checked into our hotel later than I wanted to due to sherlock’s job interfering. As such, we checked in and I had to immediately find the team meeting that was already in progress. We then found our had-not-been-cleaned room and went back to the lobby to complain about our dirty room. They offered to move us to another room, but it was already 545p, and I was supposed to be on a bus at 545p heading to dinner with my team. We couldn’t afford the ticket for sherlock to go with me to that dinner. I missed the bus, so sherlock found a way to get me to Epcot to dinner without having to pay for parking.

Not sure what he did while I was gone, but when I came back in the eight o’clock hour, the room had been cleaned. We each took a sleeping pill and were in bed relatively early. See, the plan was to get up and cheer for the half marathon teammates. But… we slept instead. A very wise decision.

We got up at 9a on Saturday. Please keep that in mind later when I’m complaining about how tired I was and am. Saturday, we took the bus over to the Wide World of Sports to see the fitness expo. After, we took another bus over to Downtown Disney. It was a bad call. The bus to downtown was standing room only. It took a turn too fast, I shifted my weight, and my right ankle said, “HI! I’M YOUR RIGHT ANKLE! REMEMBER ME?” I was so pissed that I tweaked my finally-feeling-better ankle the day before my freaking race. Happily, I packed Icy/Hot and an Ace bandage. But still.

Highlight of the day: being able to exchange my XL marathon shirt for a L shirt, that fits me so much better. Yay!

My running buddy (broken foot, remember?) called me and said she was on Disney property and could we get together. She met the team for a 4p dinner that I skipped (Olive Garden take out for me) and then came over after dinner to see me. Which was very nice of her. I had to kick her out at like 730p because I was exhausted and needed to get to bed and try to sleep.

I went to bed at 8p, and sherlock turned off the tv at 10p. So I listened to the movie he was watching and sat up to watch the good parts. I set a wake-up call, a cell phone alarm, and the alarm clock for three different times to make sure I wouldn’t over sleep. So unnecessary, as I tossed and turned and watched the clock all night long… until 2a when I had to get up.

I got up at 2a, dressed, put in my contacts and did my eye makeup. I had gathered all my stuff the night before, so all I had to do was grab my breakfast and head out to meet my team at 3a in the hotel lobby.

They tell you not to try anything new on race day. I was running with contact lenses for the first time because I figured my irritated eyes would bother me and give me something other than my angry ankle to focus on. I wore eyeliner and mascara because I knew there’d be professional photographers along the 26.2 and that I’d want to try to look pretty (impossible during a marathon, btw). I knew the makeup would bother my eyes more, giving me something else to focus on other than my ankle. I ate dinner that I knew would be okay to run after without having stomach issues. I thought my breakfast through, wanting to go with a safe food for running. I chose peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, a safe choice.

How to sabotage yourself before a run: eat Uncrustables because you’re too stupid lazy to make a sandwich with the brand of PB and J and bread that you’re used to eating.

It never occurred to me that something as simple as buying ready-made PBJ would make me so sick. But, I supposed there are plenty of preservatives (I’m not talking about jam) in those sandwiches to make them convenient. And, who knows what brand of PB they use (I hear there’s a salmonella outbreak linked to PB again). So, I happily sabotaged myself with my breakfast. Two sandwiches. Because I am stupid.

Anyway… our team took team photos and boarded a bus.

bright eyed and excited at 345a
The excitement level on the bus was great! Coach put the fear of god into us, reminding us to get to the TNT tent after we cross the finish line and sign out. See, the coaches can’t cross the finish line until their last runner (me) crosses the finish line, and the only way they know for certain is that you have to sign out. If you don’t sign out, they go looking for you. Saturday during the half marathon, four people did not sign out. My two coaches were out for ten hours looking for people, calling emergency numbers, etc. Come to find out, the last person never even showed up for the weekend. His wife finally called and said he was out of town on business. Ten hours searching for him (well, six, since four would have been during the race). Jerk. So they promised to murder anyone who did not sign out.

We got to the Epcot parking lot. There was a band playing up on a stage way far away. Port-o-lets everywhere, with huge lines of runners waiting to utilize them. You had to go through bag check by 5a, so while I was in line waiting to check my bag (all that stuff you need before a race but don’t want to carry, like warm clothes, food), sherlock showed up. I was so happy to be able to hug him one more time before my race.

After I passed through baggage check, I entered port-o-let city. There were easily 150 port-o-lets lined up in a square, and huge lines waiting to use them. I picked a line and braced myself for my nightmare.

Kids, I don’t think I’ve used a port-o-let since I was a young child. Great is my fear of these things. And, at 5a, it was dark and these port-o-lets were very dark. Actually, utilizing the port-o-let in the dark probably made it a less traumatic experience for me. I put my blanket and water bottle on the ground outside, braced myself, and entered. First off. I lost my balance immediately and almost grabbed onto the — OMG! THAT’S A URINAL! — to keep my balance. I almost brushed the urinal with my leg. Blech. Gross. The lid was down on the seat, and the seat was black. I could vaguely see that waste in the abyss, but I was mostly disconcerted that the seat was black, it was dark, and there was no possible way to discern if it was wet. Gross I tell you. I did my thing and tried to get out quickly without coming into contact with the urinal. Happily, there was hand sanitizer. And, I had wipes. Oh, and there was TP.

It was .6mile walk from port-o-let city to the starting corrals. I was quite comfortable with my empty bladder and warmly wrapped in my blanket (good suggestion on the blanket, Bou!). As I walked that.6, I was reminded of the Marathon for People with Incontinence:

Because the road was lined with people peeing in the bushes. Cracked me up!

It was controlled chaos, but good grief, the massive amount of people was overwhelming. I was in corral G, as was Boudicca and my friend Rob. But I never saw either one of them.

I crossed the start line approximately ten minutes after the start of the race.

I was thrilled to have RTY’s camera with me, and even thought to bring an extra set of batteries. I wanted to take pictures throughout, and was encouraged to do so. All the characters were out in all the parks.

Had I realized this would be my last picture, I would have picked a different character! My first set of batteries was dead after just a few pictures at mile 4.

I tried to take a picture of sherlock on the side of the road just after the 4 mile mark, and realized my batteries were dead. I gave him the dead batteries and put in new batteries. A few miles later, when I was ready to take what would have been a great shot (I was on an overpass, ahead of me the throng of runners was banking to the left, and the course continued under the bridge I was on. A massive sea of runners, it would have been a great picture), I realized my extra batteries were also dead. Happily, I was able to give sherlock that dead weight when next I saw him:

This was somewhere between miles 10 and 11. I had a great pace going. I was happy. I still felt pretty good. I was craving pizza, but that’s not unusual. Only, I was having some stomach issues. This is the last picture where I was not faking my jubilation for the camera.

The course took us around the Magic Kingdom and through the castle. I was thrilled to see both my coaches on the back side of the castle cheering me on. I’m sure they were thrilled to see I was on a good pace at that point. You know, before it all fell horribly apart for me. I came through the castle, and posed for the professional photographer in front of the castle. I need to try to find out how to buy those pictures… I posed for a lot of pictures along the way, especially after my camera died.

Just after the castle, in Frontierland, I found an open bathroom with no lines. A real bathroom. With water and soap and paper seat covers (tip: if you’re sweaty from running for ten miles, the paper seat cover will bond with your nekkid ass). The bad thing: a toilet had overflowed, and the water on the floor was everywhere and disgusting. But, I was just happy to have a real bathroom as I was suddenly dealing with (spelled the way it felt) Die-Ugh-rhea. Kids, stomach issues killed my pace. When you’re dealing with something like that, you are a slave to your colon and cannot have a quick potty break. You have to sit there until your colon stops convulsing. There’s nothing you can do but be patient and curse yourself for the Uncrustables.

At least ten minutes later (and maybe a little bit longer), I was finally back on the route. My stomach still hurt, but I was thrilled to not have had to endure die-ugh-rhea in a port-o-let. Can you imagine? Ugh, stuff of my nightmares.

At 13.1, the halfyway point, there was a DJ calling out the names of runners as their chip registered. All morning, having people calling out my name and cheering me on was the best. I’m thinking about writing my name on all my shirts, because I totally got off on people saying “GO RACHEL! YOU CAN DO IT RACHEL!”

I hit the wall at mile 15. Around that time, my brother called, VW Bug called (but I didn’t hear my phone ringing), and my broken foot running buddy was on her third call to me. I appreciated the words of encouragement, but it was exhausting to try to hold that phone up to my head, so I kept the calls brief. This was around the time when we encountered very long stretches of zero shade. It. Was. HOT.

As I neared Animal Kingdom, I realized I would have to find another bathroom inside the park. Oh joy! At the rear of the park, where we entered, they had goats and donkeys and owls, and a giant snake greeting us. And me without a camera. I danced, yes you read that right, danced through one of the areas of AK because the music was danceable, and I was doing everything I could to get my spirits up and not dwell on just how crappy my run had become.

I enjoyed another ten minutes bathroom break, stupid colon. Stupid me for sabotaging myself like that. And did you know when you have diarrhea, you’re expelling things your body needs. Also, ten minute potty breaks really mess with your overall pace. So, I’m not kidding, I think those two ridiculously long potty breaks robbed me of thirty minutes of race time. Stupid me for sabotaging myself.

At mile 17, they gave me an ice cold sponge! (Go read what Bou had to say about the sponge, it cracked me up!) I put that ice cold sponge on my head, applied pressure, and ice cold water hit my scalp, and dripped down my neck onto my back. I wiped the water off my sun burned face. I wiped my arms. It was… Heavenly. I repeated the process over and over. I was drenched with the cold water by the time I saw my husband and cousin and CIL again around mile 18:

faking enthusiasm for the camera

I pretty much walked miles 15 through 22. I was beat. I was downtrodden. I was demoralized. I was on the verge of tears. I was sore. I was tired. I was not getting on that damn bus. I was going to finish the race. I was having a very hard time with the mental war, as running is a mental sport. If you look at the map, you can see at miles 20 and 21, the course goes up a road, turns around, and comes back. So you’re facing runners going the other direction. I saw the older couple I have been training with about three quarters of a mile ahead of me. At the finish line, Nancy said to me, “when I saw you there at 21, I was really worried about you. You looked like you were dying, and I didn’t know if you’d finish. I’m so proud of you.” Yeah, I felt like death at 20 and 21, and would have welcomed death with open arms.

I tried pep talking myself with things like “only eight more miles, that’s a piece of cake! You can do eight in your sleep.” But those thoughts couldn’t compete with the agony my body was in.

They said if you can make it to 22, you can finish. They said after 22 it gets easier. Curiously, they were right. At 22, you enter MGM. There are crowds again of people cheering you on “GO RACHEL!” There is shade. There is more music, more employees cheering. It’s always easier when strangers call your name and cheer you on.

I was even able to run again after I left MGM. Go me finding it in me to run some more at the end. Of course, I only had it in me because I so desperately wanted to be done.

My other coach found me just before mile 24. She found me in the board walk resort area. I was happy for the company, after 24 very lonely, difficult miles. Except for between 21 and 22 when I asked a TNT coach from the Washington DC team to pep talk me, I was basically alone. Sure, there were people all around me, but I kept to myself, being anti-social and all. So having Coach Jen with me for the last two miles was great. She helped me a lot. And, of course, I was the last person on our team to cross the line. I’m okay with that because…

cross the line, I did!

I received the exact same medal the first place finisher received. Of course, he got his after only 2:20′38″ and it took me 7:00′56″. (Chip time is different than clock time. My chip time started when I crossed the start line, clock time started when someone else crossed the start line ten minutes before me.)

There were a total of 14,940 people who finished the race.
I finished 14,765. I’m fine with that. I finished. It took me longer than it should have, but I was having stomach distress. You can’t rush stomach distress. Believe me, I tried.
7,139 women finished the race. Of them, I was 7,017.

Considering I was a couch potato five months ago, I’m pretty freaking proud of myself.

As well I should be.

I am in a whole new world of hurt. But, I can be thankful that I have no blisters. I have 10 toe nails (although I’m a little concerned about one toe on my left foot). My ankle is okay. I have aches and pains (and sunburn and chafing) where you just shouldn’t have such things. But I did it. No one can take this from me.

And, I never have to do another marathon ever again in my life if I don’t want to. And I don’t. Today, anyway.

We went to the victory party last night, but didn’t stay more than an hour. I was inexplicably tired. My running buddy was there. Here’s a picture of my buddy, my sunburned face, and my two coaches:

oh, and my marathon shirt and my medal! I’m wearing the medal all week. See if I don’t! I went back to my hotel and had a bottle of champagne instead of a sleeping pill! It was good.

So, it’s official: I’m a marathoner! And I totally rawk!

Whoops, one more thing:
what my iPod registered:
Distance: 27.33 mi
Duration: 6:50′28″ (paused during potty breaks)
Pace: 15′01″ /mi
Calories: 4,747

wRitErsbLock