Race Report - 2009 Marine Corps Marathon

I often wonder how something so incredibly amazing can leave me so speechless. I am humbled beyond words thinking back on the past twenty (20) weeks of training and, of course, Marine Corps Marathon weekend. I knew going in that I had to respect the distance of 26 miles 385 yards. I knew it would be a challenge. I knew it would change me. The degree to which all of those would happen though, I had no idea.

We arrived in Rosslyn on Thursday afternoon and had a great hotel location for the start and finish of the race. Friday morning consisted of a light 30-minute run, including the finish of the marathon, which had already been barricaded for the event. The finishing hill seemed a little more steep then I had imagined, but that was the least of my concerns. There were many more miles to be run prior to dealing with that.

My wife and I really enjoyed the race expo. The organization of this entire thing was nothing short of top notch. I was amazed with the efficiency of packet pick-up and the layout of the expo as a whole. Many other events had tables set up and the vendors were all knowledgeable and pleasant enough. I was lucky enough to see former Marine Montel Williams doing a radio spot during the expo – Williams is living with Multiple Sclerosis and was kind enough to spare a moment with me as I thanked him for being such a huge inspiration to my Mom, who also has this degenerative disease.

Bart Yasso’s lecture at the expo was great. His dry southeastern Pennsylvania wit combined with his experiences on the road made me feel a little more at ease. He was kind enough to sign my book and pose for a photo. Again, class all the way. Amby Burfoot once said that Yasso never forgets a name. I contacted Yasso once on Facebook and, wouldn’t you know, he remembered me, my name and where I am originally from. Again, class all the way.

Saturday was all about taking it easy. My wife and I did some walking through Arlington with some of our best friends to see the Cemetery and other points of interest. If that kind of thing does not stir some emotion, there is something wrong with you. My fear was that I was going to continue my inability to get a good night’s sleep for the race. I have to admit, I slept well Saturday night.

Not surprisingly, I was up before the alarm was set to go off at 5:00 a.m. on Sunday morning – race day. We knew going in that this was going to be a fantastic day for running from a weather standpoint. Cool, low humidity and good amounts of sunshine. My wife and I made the 2-mile walk from our hotel to the starting line. It was pitch black out at 6:30 a.m., as expected. The Marine Corps War Memorial was light only by spotlights – a sobering reminder of where I would wind up later that day.

We got to the starting line with me shaking from the chill of the morning and my wife toting the essentials in my “support bag”. Hugs and kisses were given and I got into the corral. The Osprey fly-over and the Howitzer send-off were moving to say the least. It took me almost 20 minutes to get to the starting line, but I was not complaining. The slow movement did me some good to get to some blood flow. I crossed the twin arches and started my Garmin – the game was officially afoot.

Going into the Marine Corps Marathon, I was aware of the two rather significant hills in the first nine (9) miles or so. My goal was to start out easy and run a negative split. More on how that worked out later…

The support on the course was fantastic. Marines were out there cheering and encouraging every runner out there. Many runners, myself included, were running for someone or some cause. That was special for me, knowing that I was by no means alone.

Musical entertainment throughout the course was a great way to break up the rhythmic “thwapping” of running shoes on the blacktop.

I had no intentions of seeing my wife on the course. Getting around the race area is difficult so as it is, let alone 21,000 runners and who knows how many times more supporters. Nevertheless, at mile 16, there she was… Just what I needed, when I needed it. A quick kiss through the fence, and I was on my way.

Beating the bridge (having to make it past mile 20 by 1:15 p.m. in order to avoid the sweeper bus), aside from a catastrophic injury or meltdown, was never a concern for me. The bridge, however, was long, arduous, and probably the least interesting part of the course. Although the grim reaper standing on the bridge with a sign indicating “The End Is Near” was a great touch.

Miles 21 through 24 were also tough as they comprised an out-and-back. Difficult. Once I got to mile 24, I felt the end was in sight. I ran onto the ramp to get down by Arlington Cemetery and I knew I was close. There were a few points from there on, I will not lie, where I started to get choked up. Thinking of my late Uncle who died of prostate cancer in 2007 and my Mom who lives with Multiple Sclerosis. Never a complaint from either. Their strength became my strength. Giving up was never in his and is never in her vocabulary. No matter what, I was not giving up. I kept saying to myself, over and over… “I… am… not… done… yet.”

Running past all of the monuments was not only inspiratonal but set an amazing backdrop for the race as a whole. Passing by the Arlington Cemetery brought on more emotion for the obvious reasons the place normally provides. Always earned, never given. The bend to the left let me know I was close. My back straightened up, shoulders back and head up. The crowds all along the corridor were several deep. The cheering and applause were incredible. Truly moving and humbling. I saw my wife and our friend at the fence to my left. I made it.

Unlike many races before, I was sure to mug it for the camera and get all the way across the finish line before messing with the Garmin or anything else. I wanted photographs that would really “make” this event for me. Mission accomplished.

Receiving my space blanket and finisher’s medal from a Marine was the best. After a congratulatory salute to the Marine, I was off to the Iwo Jima Memorial for a finisher photo and then off too get some food and liquids. After a cool bath, shower and nap, and some much needed Ibuprofen for a killer migraine, we spent some time and had a great meal later that night in Georgetown with our great friends, Lee and Sharon. I would not have had it any other way.

I truly struggle to put into words just how humbling this race was for me. I finished well, achieved two (2) of my goals, and sit here with confidence when I say I will run another marathon. At the same time, I will learn from this experience – and what an experience it was. To run my first full marathon somewhere other than Marine Corps Marathon would have been a letdown. That may be a bit over dramatic, but I think not.

I learned how far I have come from the person I once was and how far I still want to go... I learned that trusting in your training can prepare you for the marathon distance, yet you still have no idea what will happen on race day until race day. I learned that respecting the distance prior to the first marathon is one thing while respecting the distance after the fact is ever so different. I learned that I am not a "one-and-done" marathoner. I will continue to say this... I am very proud and humbled to have been a part of this event.

There are so many people who are deserving of my thanks, although my thanks is nowhere near enough.

To my wife, Jeannette, of course, for her unwavering support and tolerance of all things me during this process. She put up with a lot of crap throughout this whole deal but always knew how important this was to me. Seeing her at mile 16 and again at the finish made me realize just how much she took from this journey as well.

To my Mom for her support and strength. She was not there with us, but she was. To my Uncle Tom who is gone but by no means forgotten. His strength also fueled me and will continue to do so.

To my running partners – the Lee ("the Colonel") and Sharon ("Her Royal Highness") and Lee's friend Adam. The past twenty (20) weeks have been filled with ups and downs but I am proud to have such amazing running partners and, more importantly, fantastic friends. I used to think that running alone was the only way to go. Now, I cannot imagine running without them. Adam was someone new to me, but his calming influence the days before the race was a great help.

To every single person associated with the Marine Corps Marathon, Marine, civilian, or volunteer – Thank you for making this slow newbie feel like this event was especially for me. An absolutely top notch event from start to finish. Never once did I feel like just another number in this process.

To my runners in No Boundaries, past, present and future. Let my experience show you that, while you may never choose to run a marathon, hard work and dedication will get you exactly to where you want to be. Remember… One Stride at a Time…

Thanks to Tracy, Diane, and Jocelyn and their husbands. A great time was had by all in the little time we got to spend together as a group.

To all of the amazing runners I have met over the past two (2) years at Fleet Feet in Greenville. Your advice, inspiration and counsel have been and will continue to be greatly appreciated.

As I continue these “closing credits”, I would also like to thank some other, supporting roles… Mizuno for making my running shoes for the past 5 months and Upstate Pedorthic for the orthotics that went into those shoes. Snickers Almond for being my preferred post long run fuel of choice – the hard part will be putting them down now. I would also like to thank Zing Zang for the best Bloody Mary mix known to mankind and Pabst for Pabst Blue Ribbon. No explanation needed here.

If the point has not been made, allow me to state this clearly… this is NOT the end of the line for me. I finished, I finished strong, and I finished well. Now, I want to do better. There are races on my mind and in my heart. Chicago 2010, Big Sur (thanks, Bart Yasso), and Budapest with my wife – all of these are in the mixer. I have a dream to qualify for Boston. I am not sure I will, but I will continue to set goals and work hard to get there. I can think about these things now as I am recovering, with soreness that can only bring a smile to my face and a thrill to my heart the likes of which are, still, hard to put into coherent words.

Humbled and honored. Now, the next chapter begins…

What lies on the other side

The wait is over. The training miles have been run. There is nothing left to do other than pack, get to Arlington and, oh-by-the-way, run 26 miles 385 yards.

Many things entered into my mind when I first considered doing this, not the least of which were thoughts of doubt just in covering the distance. As things wore on, that changed. I have little problem writing that I grew attached to marathon training, including its idiosyncratic rigors and frustrating twists and turns. Come Sunday, I can celebrate that which I have learned. I think I know enough about myself, my body, and my current running ability to know how to handle situations as they arise.

Yet it is the last two-tenths of a mile that beckons with something of an uncertainty - not in covering the distance as I will find a way to do that - but rather the emotion and feelings I will encounter. I have no idea of how I will feel physically, mentally or emotionally. That part of the story is as yet untold.

So, come tomorrow morning I will be leaving a mere runner. When I return, I will be a marathoner. Amazing.

Be well.

Have faith and let go

The training is just about done, the sweat poured and the agonizing complete. Now, there is nothing left to do but to squeeze out just a few more training miles and get up to Arlington, Virginia. There is, of course, that little business about the 26 miles 385 yards to run. Minor details.

The past few days have been very difficult for me, in a number of ways. For me, this is somewhat like my grieving the loss of my uncle before he ever passed away over a year ago. At the risk of sounding odd, this is my pre-race grieving. Over the past 18+ weeks, I have grown attached to the hectic schedule of running more than I ever have in my life, eating clean and focusing on October 25, 2009 on my calendar. With all due deference to my wife, it has been the most important date on my personal calendar since, well, forever. A date that almost wasn't.

My anxiety over the past days comes from a number of sources. Taper madness is the obvious choice, sure, Yet for me, there is more. For so many years, I expected and demanded so little of myself in terms of effort. I never asked anything of myself and so, as a direct result, I was never disappointed in what I received.

My how things have changed.

Now, I demand more. More than perhaps I could have ever imagined as witnessed by my prognostications of future marathons and improved times - an improved finishing time from a marathon I have yet to run. I have to chuckle when I read that.

Yes, things are vastly different. Not only have I achieved the unthinkable of making it through marathon training, but I continue to raise the bar ever so much higher. For me, that is how it works. That is how I strive. That is how I survive.

Having that series of goals keeps my mind focused forward all the while taking in the lessons learned from prior experiences. I am not perfect nor am I expecting as much. When I first considered training for a marathon, my primary goal was to learn as much as I could about myself and how I relate to my running, my mind, and my body. Mission accomplished.

There is nothing left now but 35,000 of my closest friends, 10 days from now, and running the run of a lifetime... for now. The finish line for the Marine Corps Marathon is not the end for me. This much I know right now. Rather it is the beginning. The door is open to places and goals the likes of which I never knew existed, let alone considered.

My biggest challenge between now and October 25th is simple. Having faith in the training I have done, relaxing and just letting go have not been easy. But it has to happen, for my own sanity and, likely for those around me. Yet at this point, it is all about me. All I can say is: Wow.

Progress Report: 07 October 2009

So, this is what they call “taper madness”…

It is funny to me in something of a quizzical way how the past 17 weeks have played out. Many who have been veteran marathoners long before I even considered taking that first step tried to educate me. Really, the process – the whole process – is something that needs to be experienced in order to fully understand its mystical power and confusing lessons to be taught.

In the days and weeks that made up the beginning of my training for this marathon, I heeded the words of the sage veterans. I took my pacing seriously, made sure I was eating cleaner and – at least attempting – to get enough rest. Some of these things were easy. Others were near impossible.

Nothing, and I mean nothing, prepared me for the mental investment that came along with training for and running in this marathon. By and large it was the single solitary thing that consumed my mind almost at all times. Everything I ate and drank, every time I looked at the clock to see how late it was during yet another restless night of sleep, all of it added up to what has been my life for over four months.

Now, sadly, it is almost over. Yet this is only the beginning. The next 2 weeks-plus will be consumed with others asking questions about my training, whether taper madness is truly maddening, and my readiness. I sit here with an overwhelming sense of guilt for peppering folks in my life with every last detail about my marathon training – many of them tolerated my babbling. They are very kind.

Temptation has been there, in various forms, for me to single-handedly derail my own success. There was this morning’s 8-miler that I wanted to take slowly. Apparently the gale force winds, torrential rains, and humid temperatures just made me feel like working hard for a “so-so” result. So be it. It is done. There is also the inaugural half marathon in Spartanburg this coming weekend, which I considered, yet this would give me the perfect opportunity for me to try to PR, knowing this is not the time for that.

Again, every day is a learning experience.

So, here I sit, broken-hearted, in a way. But to say that I am encouraged and anxious for the next chapter of this story to begin is an understatement. There are thoughts of refining my body composition, dropping the last 20 to 25 lbs, increasing my running base and really pushing to see just how much I can shave off of my Marine Corps Marathon time.

Bettering my marathon PR when I have not even run my first marathon yet.

Yeah, I’ve got it bad. I pray there is no cure.

Be well.

Removing Boundaries

Written by Leigh Savage

Upstate resident Dan Herman leads a running program for beginners in hopes that he can inspire others to run - and lose - like him

Dan Herman was desperate for a change. After a lifetime of weight problems, he had ballooned to 350 pounds, which, along with a degenerative spinal condition, left him in pain much of the time. He had tried to lose the weight many times, but nothing worked.

"I tried everything," Herman says. "Gym memberships, weight loss programs, pills - some FDA-approved, and some maybe not. In hindsight, I did everything wrong."

Then, in 2003, he hit on what seemed like a crazy idea - running. He went online and found a training plan for brand-new runners that guided him from sedentary to completing a 5K. "At 350 pounds, running was pretty painful," he says. But within a few weeks, he could see the changes in both his weight and his life, and the formerly agonizing activity became "the hugest blessing in the biggest possible way."

As the pounds began to disappear, Herman found himself with more energy, stamina and confidence, and realized that proper nutrition and training go hand in hand. He also discovered the importance of what he calls self-care. "That includes nutrition and physical activity, but it's also learning who we are and why our habits led to where we are." He realized food was his drug, which he used to numb himself - something running has helped him avoid most of the time.

"People need to understand that taking care of yourself is not about perfection," he says. "It's very individual and fluid, and if you can win more battles than you lose, you're going to be better off."

After losing 120 pounds, Herman went on to run several 5Ks and 10Ks and then did his first half marathon at the Spinx Run Fest last year. This fall, he's training for his longest distance yet - the Marine Corps Marathon in Arlington, Va.

While he gets great satisfaction out of his own running accomplishments, Herman wanted to share his new found passion and his message with people facing similar issues. When he moved to Greenville in 2006, he sent an e-mail to Fleet Feet Sports saying he'd be glad to help in any way. Before he knew it, he was coaching the No Boundaries program - a "couch to 5K" program similar to the one he found online just a few years before.

The program, sponsored by New Balance, meets three times per week to train for a 5K. Herman hosts three or four 12-week sessions per year,training groups of about 40 people leading up to local races such as the Spinx Run Fest 5K in October, the Reedy River Run 5K in March and the Candlelight Run in July.

Jill Cody headed into Fleet Feet this summer to buy walking shoes, but walked out with a plan to train for the Spinx 5K on October 31. "I had never even run three minutes straight," she says, but the group recently tackled 20 minutes of solid running and Cody surprised herself. "It wasn't easy, but it wasn't difficult," she says. The growing confidence in her abilities has inspired her to sign up for more races, including a half marathon in March.

"It's just great being in a group, and Dan's story is so inspiring," she says. "My favorite thing he said is that each time you put one foot in front of the other, that's a victory, and I think of that on difficult days. Running has just done so much for me mentally."

Peggy Albrecht is also training for the upcoming Spinx race - her third session with the No Boundaries program. Last year, she went into Fleet Feet on a business call, but left with contact information for Dan and the idea that, a tage 55, maybe she would try a 5K. "It changed my life," she says. When training began, she was unable to run for one minute, but she also managed the 20minutes of running at a recent No Boundaries meeting. "I never thought I would be able to do that," Albrecht says. She's lost 20 pounds, and her daughter joined her in training and has lost 25.

Albrecht appreciates that Herman understands what it's like to be a beginner. "His story makes him a real person to the rest of us," she says. "He wasn't born an athlete. He's extremely knowledgeable, and tells you to listen to your body, but he doesn't let up on you either."

She plans to continue training with No Boundaries after the Spinx race, since she enjoys the accountability and camaraderie of the group. Though this won't be her first 5K finish, she's hoping it will be her first to run the entire way. "But if I can't, that's okay," she says. "I'll just keep going."

That's exactly the philosophy Herman hopes to promote. "Yourself-care goes as long as your life goes," he says. "There is no finish line to this whole thing."