Second Life of Running (Part 2)

I am training for my first marathon. It's July 2002. At a pool party on the 4th, several people ask me how much weight I've lost. This surprises me, though the answer is 15 lbs--from 188 to 173 since training started. I don't think it's obvious at that point.

But week after week for the next 15 weeks I continue to lose weight. The only dietary change is to eliminate pizza and tortilla chips. I can feel my ribs for the first time in 25 years. At race time in October my weight is 158, the lowest since I was 15.

Back then I ran too. It was an obsession. A coach told me I had Olympic potential in the Decathlon when I was 13. But I wasn't that good. I did the 100m in 11.3, the long jump at 20'7, the 400 in 52.2 the High jump was 5-10 and the mile in 4:46. The pole vault, hurdles, and weight events I never tried. After my sophomore year, I burned out and got into music. So ended my first running career.

In 2002 though, I don't have grandious goals: just finish the race with some dignity. Maybe in the low 4:00s if possible.

One reason I decided to run then was that my cousin's husband Loren, had cancer and while undergoing chemo, ran the LA marathon. His struggle inspired me. So I am following the Galloway plan, and after running two 10K races I see some improvement. I can now do it in 45:32 after a 47:50 6 weeks earlier. So I make my goal more aggressive: sub-4:00.

The 10K races are a kind of deja vu. The focus of a race and the fatigue and joy of running and finishing are so intense it feels I'd never stopped competing.

Marathon Day: my strategy is to use the walk-run, running 10, walking 30-45 seconds. It's 62 and humid but I have no idea how much temperature affects me in 2002. The race is tough. My girlfriend, J, meets me at the Lake Nakomos half-way mark, and I tell her I'm unsure about holding the 4-hour pace.

But at mile 20, I put on a mini-spurt and stop taking walk breaks. The crowd thickens at mile 23 and I am actually regreting putting "RON" on my shirt. People keep shouting my name and I feel compelled to acknowledge them, though my energy is all but lost. I look at my watch at 24 miles and see that I've got 20 minutes to finish before 4:00.

For awhile, I was passing people like mad after mile 20, but now I'm just filling the ranks; I guess I've reached those at my level. My legs are OK but I have a side stitch so I focus on my cadence. I see the clock which hits 4-hours. I hit the start line ar two minutes and my watch is at 3:57 when I hit the last stretch. I finish at 3:58:20 on my watch. It's over. I did it> I look around me and see people who are young and fit. Some are older and fit. Everyone looks good. It's done and I'll go home I can't wait to tell my students, relatives and friends. I'm proud. Also I'm curious. What will I do next?