Success is never wondering, “What if?”

Sunday morning was cool and dark at 7AM when about 17,000 runners gathered around the HHH Metrodome in downtown Minneapolis. About 6,000 runners were about to start the TC 10 mile run, while the other 11,000 tried to stay warm in the cold wind. Runners were wearing all sorts of things, trash bags as ponchos and old worn out sock as gloves, all which would be discarded along the race course after burning a few hundred calories. Then there was the forecast – rain, very possibly heavy rain, maybe even a thunderstorm. It may sound like the worst conditions for a marathon, but for me it was near perfect, much better than high temperatures and humidity. If you grow up, live, and run in Minnesota, you become accustom to the cold. This was a Minnesotan’s day to run a marathon; the only possible improvement would be a few snow flakes.

All my three previous marathons have been in the heat, so this was new to me. I have done a 23 mile practice run in the coolness and know that my long distance performance greatly improves when the mercury dips into the 50s or lower. Waiting at the starting line with my wife just on the other side of the corral fence I made my decision, “I’m going for it” I told her, “I’m going for under 4 hours”. I knew my performance would be much better than my summer long runs because of the coolness, I just didn’t know if my legs would hold up since my summer training was a bit sporadic. The one thing I didn’t want to happen is play it safe and then for the rest of my life wonder if I could have done it. I had to try.

The 8AM start of the marathon was fairly dry, but that didn’t last very long. For about the first 15 miles or so it rained, sometimes very hard. At times gusting wind would blow rain and leaves into my face. Some of the streets became flooded and at some parts of the course policemen were diverting runners to the high side of the road. I loved it and so did other runners around me. Unlike heat which drains your energy, the rain and wind seem to elevate our spirits. Spectators were cheering on the runners, some runners were cheering on the spectators while some were cheering on the rain.

During the first half of the race the numbers of spectators were thinner than past years, but I was surprised on how many did show considering how hard the rain was pouring. There were large groups at key locations, probably where parking can be found. I think the weather weeded out the causal spectator, because the ones that did show up were there to cheer on the runners with exuberance. Even though I decided to try for a finish under 4 hours, I did remain true to my main objective - to engage the crowd.

At last year’s TC marathon I also learned that sometimes it takes a runner to get the crowd going, which in turn gets the runners going. It’s a symbiotic relationship - runners inspire spectators and spectators motivate runners. Runners also inspire and motivate other runners. It’s so unlike other sports where there is an opponent that needs to be crushed. That’s what I love about marathons. There is so much positive energy flowing all directions and negativity is no where to be found. For this race time I wanted to put everything into Chemo-Man.

After the first couple of miles of being reserved and quiet, I came up to a large group at an intersection and I finally let it all hang out at the top of my voice yelling, “It feels great to be alive and running!” That generated a big response of applause and yells like, “way to go Chemo-Man”. This would happen again and again for the next 20 miles. It wasn’t just the spectators getting into Chemo-Man; I received countless sincere nods, pats on the back, and clenching fist taps from fellow runners too.

A runner understands another runner. They know what it means to be able to run, and what it would be like to loose it. So when a runner sees another runner overcoming great adversity to stay in the race, they are inspired. That’s another wonderful thing about marathons, there inspiration everywhere. Many runners at Sunday’s race had to overcome some type of hardship or misfortune. You see it written on their shirts. They are running in honor someone they lost, or close friend that is struggling with a crippling disease. Then there is the old farts – runners in the 70 to 74 age bracket, or the over 74 bracket. Near the end of the race I saw one 70-74 pass me up, probably on his way to break 4 hours. Did that bother me? No, it was pure inspiration.

My pace for the first 20 miles was much faster than what I trained for this summer. Last year for the TC marathon I was in my best shape and trained at a speed to finish under 4 hours. However last year I started to succumb to the heat around mile 17 and didn’t reach mile 20 at a good enough time to complete the last 6.2 miles with a reasonable pace. This year I hit mile 20 in full stride and with a time of 2:57. To finish under 4 hours chip time all I would have to do is complete the last 6.2 miles with an easy pace just over 10 minutes per mile. But then my legs and right foot said, “NO MORE” and I started to feel a bit dizzy. For much of the remaining 6 miles I had to alternate between walking and running to stave off the feeling of dizziness and pain in my legs and foot. I did save enough energy to complete the last half mile at a good running pace. I didn’t finish under 4 hours, my chip time was 4:18, about one minute faster than my time at Grandma’s marathon, but I was still very happy with my performance. The important thing is I tried and I will not be haunted by the question, “what if?”