In November of 1978 while living in Ft. Lauderdale, I had a phone conversation with my older brother, Don, and he told me had had just run the Marine Corps Marathon. I was instantly overcome with jealously. My brother had done it, didn't tell me he was going to do it and I was on the outside looking in. That left me with an intense desire to run a marathon. For 31 years it has been eating away at me and I have tried to train for the "big run" but always came up short. Until now.
After watching my oldest son Austin run the Marine Corps Marathon (MCM) last year, I was inspired to try it one last time. Austin, running in just his second marathon, logged an impressive 2:57 qualifying him for the Boston Marathon. I enjoyed watching him run and I loved the event. Being from a military family, I thoroughly enjoyed being around the Marines. The crowds were good and, of course, running through historic Washington, D.C. had to be a great experience. I told Don, who was also there to watch, that we should run it in 2009. He agreed.
I knew it wouldn't be easy. I had trained to run the MCM in 2004, but came up with some nagging injuries less than two months before the race and had to shut it down. The following year I did successfully run the St. Jude's Half-Marathon, but that's a far cry from the full 26.2 miles.
The other complication to deal with, besides being 53-years-old and pot-bellied, is the grueling travel schedule in the Pacific Coast League. Wake-up calls at 3:30 AM, late nights and press box food are not conducive to proper training. Too many missed days, not enough miles per week. Not to mention the heat and humidity of summers in Memphis. As a result of the heat, many of my runs took place after midnight following games at AutoZone Park. The streets of Bartlett are peaceful and the runs turned out to be a good way of winding down from the games.
As I got closer and closer to the race date (October 25) I was surprised that my overall health was holding up...until four weeks out. During my last scheduled long run (20 miles) I developed intense pain in my right hip and knee. It forced me to walk quite a bit and I was very disappointed. However, the pain started to drift away over the next couple of weeks to where I figured I'd be OK.
Then my wife Rhonda caught a serious cold. I did my best to fight it off and was successful until about two weeks before the race. The cold set in and by October 18 I'm being told I'm on the verge of bronchitis and I should stop running. I explained that wasn't an option and to give me the strongest medication they had. Antibiotics for sure and then the nurse practitioner said steroids would be best, but since I was running in a race that she wouldn't give it to me. I explained to her that "race" was not in my vocabulary, I was simply going to try and survive. I also told her that my performance would not cause race officials to hand me a plastic cup and, well, you know.
So, it was off to D.C. Friday with Rhonda and Austin, as Austin made it a Selby trio in the event.
After short runs Friday and Saturday, I knew I still wasn't particularly healthy for this thing, but I was going to give it a shot.
We went to the D.C. Convention Center where the Expo was being held to pick up our bibs and other goodies and that certainly got the adrenaline flowing. Not to mention all the great swag they try and sell. They got a few dollars from me, for sure.
Up at 5:00 AM on race day we caught the shuttle from the hotel at 6:00 AM which dropped us off near the Pentagon for the 8:00 AM start. There were people everywhere!!! There would be over 21,000 running in the marathon portion of the event. Austin headed to the front row for his start and Don and I moved to the rear since our expected times would be slower. Don was actually in shape to run 4:00-4:15, but decided he would run with me and that proved to be huge in getting me through the ordeal.
After a flyover by a couple of Ospreys, a howitzer sounded and we were off! And we didn't move! It would be about 15 minutes before we reached the start line.
The first seven miles or so were the hilliest on the course. And, naturally, less than two miles into the race, it was time for a stop at the Port-a-Potty. Ah, but as George Brett once said, "All my troubles are behind me".
I felt pretty good through the hills as we crossed over the Potomac into Georgetown. What started to strike me were the huge crowds with people everywhere and bands playing throughout the course. I'm told there were over 100,000 spectators along the course. I was looking forward to the 10-mile mark which passes just below the Lincoln Memorial because Rhonda and Barbie would be there to cheer us on and there they were, jumping up and down waving their hands while Don and I mugged for the encouraging crowd. That's the thing, all the people along the course cheered for everyone. The people and the overall atmosphere were huge because not only was it inspirational, but also served as a major distraction as the aches and the fatigue began to creep in.
I didn't really start to notice any aches and pains until about the 17-mile mark where the legs were getting a little heavy and my lungs started burning, probably a result of the health issues I had been battling. Then, about one mile later as we neared the Capitol, a little boy ran out right in front of me and I had to slam on the breaks. Luckily I didn't hurt the kid or pull about a half-dozen muscles. If I had fallen down, I probably would not have gotten up. But, I survived that scare and motored around the front of the Capitol (quite a sight) and cruised past the Smithsonian.
After that, it was across the 14th street bridge over the Potomac and on into Crystal City (Arlington). The bridge was long and I knew at that point I was starting to run out of gas. As we crossed into Crystal City we passed the 21-mile sign. I was pretty confident I would make it, but knew those last five miles would be doozies.
As we came out of the Crystal City loop, it was back to the Pentagon where we had been what seemed like days ago. Two miles to go and I had nothing left. My pace was slowing, but Don continued to encourage me. He was in such good shape that he talked to me throughout the entire run. I think I stopped talking about 17 miles in.
We made it to the 25-mile marker where there was one last water station and it was huge! A little water, a little Powerade and I knew I would make it.
There was still one major hurdle to clear. It would seem, in the Marines' kind of warped way of thinking, thought it would be cool to have the race finish on a steep incline. So we faced a steep climb to the Iwo Jima Memorial where the finish line awaited us. Just as we were about to turn the corner to go up the hill, there was Austin shouting encouragement for us. A great pick-me-up! Massive crowds lined the hill and somewhere in there Rhonda and Barbie were screaming their heads off, but I never heard them. The noise was intense and exhilarating and certainly helped the climb. Once we reached the top it was a 90-degree turn to the right and a dash of less than 100 yards past a set of bleachers and more cheering. I don't remember the first half of that dash, but do remember the last part thinking that I was going to do it and I was going to force a smile on my face as I neared the finish line.
As we crossed the line I shook Don's hand and thanked him for running with me. I wouldn't have made it without him.
Shortly after finishing, we were each greeted by a Marine who hung a finisher's medal around our necks and congratulated us on our accomplishment. I was actually feeling pretty good. No real intense pain. No nausea. Not bad considering the temperature had reached 60 degrees which is very warm for a marathon.
Oops. Wait a minute something had to get out of whack. As we were waiting to pose for our picture in front of the Iwo Jima Memorial, I got real light headed and knew instantly that I was dehydrated. I managed to hang in there to get the pictures taken, but then headed to the First Aid tent for treatment. I thought it was funny that one of the doctors checking me out asked me if I was planning to run another one. I said based on the fact I'm in the First Aid tent, now might not be the appropriate time for that question. A few bottles of water and Powerade later I was good to go and it was off to find Rhonda and everyone else.
I was excited to learn that Austin had logged a 2:54, good for 94th out of 21,000+ runners. A chip- off- the- old block? Nope. He had certainly outclassed his Old Man. Pretty impressive.
However, no time to enjoy, we had a 5:30 PM flight back to Memphis we had to catch. As we rushed to catch the flight it was funny to watch Rhonda walk way ahead of us as Austin and I had the pace of Tim Conway doing his "Old Man" routine. We weren't the only runners easing our way through the airport.
As we settled into our seats I kept saying the same thing over and over, "I did it. I did it." After 31 years I had finally done it. No one could take this away from me. I had demonstrated mental toughness I didn't know I had and just found a way to do it.
Oh, my time? A funny thing. Everybody sets a goal. My plan was to try and beat five hours. However, heading into the race at less than 100 percent, I knew I wouldn't make it. I never worried about it and just focused on finishing. I finished in 5:19:01. I'm pleased with that considering the circumstances, but to be honest with you 6:19 or 7:19 would have been fine. At the end of the day, time isn't important. 26.2 - been there, done that. That's all that matters.
Will I run another one? Right now I'm quite content with one, but never say never!
