OKLAHOMA CITY MEMORIAL MARATHON - April 26, 2009

Why would anyone want to run a marathon? I am often asked this question and I always find it difficult to put my answer into words. Running a marathon is agonizing, excruciating, enjoyable, entertaining, exhilarating and mind-blowing—all within a relatively short period of time. It becomes increasingly difficult but more rewarding the further you run. Circumstances beyond your control can minimize or negate countless hours of strenuous training. But crossing the finish line will put a smile on your face no matter how much you have suffered. In addition, the self-congratulatory feeling endures for weeks, even months.

We had good reasons for wanting to run the Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon. My husband, Ed, and I had just finished running the New York City Marathon in November the year before, and our best friend and training partner, Larry, hadn’t made it into the lottery. We wanted to run a marathon with Larry—close to home so it wouldn’t be too expensive, and in the spring before it got too hot. The OKC Memorial Marathon is run in memory of the 168 victims of the bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building on April 19, 1995. Their names are emblazoned on banners that hang from lampposts during the first few miles of the run. For that reason, it is billed as “A Run to Remember.” We found it memorable in more ways than one!

We started our training after the Christmas holidays when we are usually fat and happy. From January until mid-April we increased our weekly Saturday runs from 10 miles to 22 miles in addition to running 4 to 5 miles three times a week. Unfortunately (or fortunately as it turned out) for Larry, his knee started giving him problems and he had to withdraw near the final stages of the training. Initially Larry had planned to drive us to OKC and be our support; but when we discovered that a group from the Dallas Running Club had chartered a bus, we decided to let Larry completely off the hook and go it alone.

On the morning of April 25th, our daughter, Katie, drove us to the bus where our adventure was to begin. Ed and I had planned to join the Dallas Running Club years ago but somehow had never gotten around to it. One of my reasons was that I thought every DRC member ran a sub 4-hour Marathon and I thought we would feel out-of-place. I was surprised to discover that some of the people on the bus actually thought we were fast. It was a welcome surprise and one that made me feel especially comfortable around this former group of total strangers. Additionally and almost immediately, we met Ram, another person who appeared to know absolutely no one. Coincidentally, he teaches finance to graduate students at the Cox Business School at SMU. I have worked for the Cox family for 18 years and Ed is a financial analyst—a perfect example of synchronicity.

The ride from Dallas to Oklahoma City was pleasant talking to Ram and Libby. Libby was sitting behind us and had arranged the bus trip—she was in charge. There would be other DRC marathon trips in the future, possibly even one to San Antonio in the fall—our next scheduled marathon. When we arrived in OKC, it took nearly an hour to shuttle everyone to their respective hotels—ours was about 6 miles from downtown. We were there only long enough to grab a snack before the bus was back to take us to the Expo and Pasta Dinner.

The Expo was lame compared to New York City’s. I was surprised at how little Official OKC Marathon merchandise there was. We were also disappointed at the lack of freebies—not even any food let alone merchandise. I ended up buying a pair of blister-proof socks which, in hindsight, didn’t work at all.

At 6:00 p.m. our group met at the Renaissance Hotel to walk over to the dinner en masse. The dinner was held outdoors at the Memorial—the same place the race was to start the next morning. Although the food was pretty bad and definitely not worth ten bucks, it did give us a chance to explore the Memorial again and relive its quiet elegance. We had visited it about four years ago when our daughter, Ali, had a gymnastics meet at the University of Oklahoma. It is truly a monument to honor those who lost their lives in a senseless act and give hope to those living with its aftermath. We almost didn’t make it back to the bus we were so immersed in its serenity.

Back at our hotel, we prepared for the race. We laid out clothes, numbers, chips and shoes and turned in early as our alarm would wake us at 4:30 a.m. Busses were scheduled to shuttle us to the start beginning at 5:00 a.m. We figured if we boarded at 5:15 a.m., we wouldn’t have time for the free pancake breakfast provided by a neighborhood church, but we should have plenty of time to use the porta-potties before making it to the starting line. Those were “the best-laid plans of mice and men”.

The Marathon was scheduled to start at 6:30 a.m. When we got to the shuttle stop, there were roughly 15 other runners waiting; by 5:35, there were more like 60. We were panicking. Even if the bus came quickly, we were afraid we wouldn’t all fit. If anyone at all were on the bus already, some runners would be left waiting for the next bus. As fate would have it, we met two guys from Ft. Worth who had a car and invited us to ride with them. We were downtown, parked and through the potty line in a jiffy. As we shoved our way to our pace group leaders, we heard the National Anthem being sung. We couldn’t have timed it better!

The first few miles of the race were hot—it was 72 degrees with 80% humidity and the wind we had felt earlier while waiting for the bus had blown away (or so we thought). We found out later that the race was completely sold out—the marathon, the half, and the relays—bringing the total number of runners to roughly 19,000. We were thankful the sun wasn’t shining as that would have made it hotter, and thankful it wasn’t raining as we had heard it might. We were running in the 4:45 pace group and, for awhile anyway, it seemed perfect. I was glad that Ed and I were running together—we were enjoying the scenery and the feel of the pavement under our feet.

I had studied the course map some but, as I didn’t know the City, I wasn’t sure where we were most of the time. I knew we were running out to Lake Hefner and back—but that was about the extent of it. I was bothered by the narrowness of the streets and the crowding of the runners. It was difficult to stay behind the pace leaders but I was determined. I knew at some point the half marathoners would peel off and things would loosen up. We ran through downtown and Bricktown (home of the Oklahoma City Red Hawks). About 4 or 5 miles into the run, we were in an industrial area of the City heading straight for what seemed like miles. I turned my head at just the right time to see the Oklahoma City Ballet Company. As a former ballerina myself, I smiled at another seeming coincidence.

The Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon reminded me of the Dallas White Rock Marathon in many ways. As in Dallas, we ran through many parks and up many busy streets, sectioned off by orange rubber cones. Spectators were mostly waiting for friends and family members—some with signs. I don’t think many folks were there only to enjoy the show like in New York City. We also ran through neighborhoods where families sat on lawn chairs encouraging passing runners or offering treats. There were times when our pace leaders seemed to race ahead and I had trouble catching back up with them. But there were more times when they seemed to be running at just the right, comfortable pace. There were hills but they weren’t insurmountable. I felt pretty good. Little did I know that was all about to change?

The closer we got to the Lake, the steeper the hills and the stronger the wind. At some point near halfway or mile 13.1, I noticed Ed was no longer with me. The course made a loop to run alongside the Lake and I saw Ed a few minutes behind me, struggling with his head down. I called to him but he didn’t look up. I knew he was miserable because, as much as I hate wind, Ed hates it even more. I probably should have waited for him but I was still attempting to stay with the pace group although it was becoming increasingly difficult. In fact for the next couple of miles, I watched as their yellow balloons disappeared in the distance. The wind was not letting up; if anything it was becoming fiercer. Soon after that, however, I had a different challenge—I got a migraine!

I have been getting migraines most of my adult life; they started when I was in high school. I have had migraines while running a few times; but I usually take an over-the-counter medication after I finish my run and they go away. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any pills with me—that’s the last time I will run a long run without them. Migraines affect every sufferer differently. For approximately 20% of people, an aura precedes the headache. I get the most common aura which according to Medicine.Net is described as “flashing, brightly colored lights in a zigzag pattern known as fortification spectra”. No matter what it’s called, it is annoying to run without being able to see clearly. All I could do is pray it would go away.

So as I struggled to see and as I fought against the wind, I took deep breaths and prayed. I didn’t want to fail to finish—I guess that was my biggest fear. I realized it wouldn’t be the end-of-the-world, but I would be disappointed. I had never started a marathon I didn’t finish. Thankfully, after about 4 miles, the aura went away as mysteriously as it had come. I was elated—no matter how difficult it would be, I would finish! That kept me going despite the 30 mph wind in my face while I was running uphill.

The last 5 or 6 miles were grueling. Along one portion of the route that was especially steep and windy, spectators were yelling for the runners to walk and save their strength. It was true that one could walk nearly as fast as one could run—but without as much effort. I must say that I walked more in this marathon than I had in New York. But even when walking, at least I was going in the right direction. I started eating pretzels at the water stops because I realized I had probably lost a lot of salt. Again, that was a wise decision. I was able to delay my leg cramps until after I finished—and boy did I get a doozy.

At last the finish line was in sight; the agony was almost over. I crossed it with my arms raised high and a grin from ear-to-ear. I savored the moment. The medal was placed around my neck and I felt like an Olympian. My time was 5:02:29—not my goal of 4:45 but only 4 minutes slower than my NYC Marathon. Without the wind, I am sure I could have done much better. Only I knew what challenges I had faced and had conquered. I wolfed down a Carl’s Jr. Cheeseburger and some cookies; I scooped up a stylish forest green Finisher shirt, and I ran into Ed. He had finished only minutes after I did. Ram didn’t fare as well; although even with debilitating leg cramps, he finished in a respectable time.

At the absolutely perfect moment, a young man pedaling a bicycle rickshaw arrived to wisk us to the bus that took us back to our hotel to shower and check-out. The bus was farther away from the finish line than we thought and time was running short before we had to be back downtown to catch the DRC bus back home. Once on the shuttle, I noticed my feet were hurting. When I took off my shoes, my toes were a swollen and bloody mess. I think I will probably lose four toenails but it was well worth it. The bus ride back to Dallas was heaven. A couple of the blessed DRC runners handed out icy Shiners and Coronas. I had a peaceful, contented feeling that comes only after a hard-fought fight. In a few days, we would start training for San Antonio. In our minds, the 2009 Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon was definitely “A Run to Remember”.