2001 SF Marathon...My Return to Running?

With the next running of the San Francisco Marathon a few weeks away, I felt it fitting to finally write about my experience...over a decade late but here's my story..

11 years ago, I set out to do what I thought was the ultimate goal for any runner...to complete a marathon. Back then, I was 22 years old and thought I could do anything when it came to running. I actually didn't consider myself a runner...at least not a long distance runner. I never ran anything longer than 10 miles and for the few years leading up to that point, I had done little to no miles. Words like nutrition, hydration, bonking had nothing to do with running as far as I knew. And "the wall?" I never even heard of that term before. But I wanted to be a "real" runner. The marathon was going to be the glorious beginning to my distance running career.

I can't remember exactly when I registered to run the July 9th 2001 SF Marathon, but I think it might have been a few weeks before the race was scheduled. It was one of those moments when you're hanging out with your buddies and someone mentions the marathon, then another friend chimes in saying he's always wanted to try one. And eventually everyone is joining in saying they've always wanted to run a marathon. Kind of like how you've always wanted to try eating some new exotic cuisine but was always afraid of the possibility of getting diarrhea from it. So with no time left to train, I decided running a few miles here and there would be sufficient to prepare my legs for 26.2 miles.

The big day came and it was a typical San Francisco morning, cool and a bit foggy. Back then, the course began and ended in Golden Gate Park. I had no idea what my finish time would be. Neither did Jesse or John, so we didn't care about lining up with a pace group.

The race started out well enough. We made our way through the park and up towards the Presidio. We dropped down into the Marina and I was feeling pretty good at that point. I said to John that the pace felt comfortable and I think that I could maintain it. A 4-hr marathon sounded reasonable. From there, we ran along the waterfront towards the Bay Bridge which was about 10 miles into the race. We were plugging along at about a 9-min/mi pace. That's about where we dropped Jesse.

At mile 13, we reached an aid station where I grabbed my first Dixie cup of water and a couple slices of Power Bars. Still feeling fresh, I headed up to the Haight back towards the park. Not even a mile later, I started feeling tired. I ventured into a new distance and although I was mentally feeling good, my body was starting to break down.

I reached into my pocket for a Power Bar Gel which I had gotten the previous day at the expo. Never tried one before and didn't know what it would do other than provide me with some energy. Luckily, it didn't cause me any GI issues and it did provide me with some energy. Within a few minutes, I felt better. But it was short lived. After a few minutes, I started fading again. One gel worked great so I took another. Nothing. So I took my third and last gel. That was enough to get me to the next aid station just inside Golden Gate Park.

Got a couple cups of water this time and a couple more gel packs. But now I was starting to feel nauseous. I tried taking in a gel but ended up cheeking it like how a monkey does it when he's saving food for later. I just couldn't take anything down.

Then, I finally hit the wall. For good. Mile 20. I didn't know what the wall was back then. But there I was. Completely sapped. Moving at about 20 minutes/mile. This last section of the race took you south along the Great Hwy to Sloat then back the same way. It took me 2 hours. Two freaking hours to "run" (or what I thought was running but was actually just a shuffling of heavy legs and feet) 6.2 miles to the finish. In my head, the motions I was making with my arms and legs was, in fact, running. Two of my friends met up with us at this point to cheer us on and offer encouragement and it never crossed my mind at the time that they were walking next to us as we were "running." I would have been better off just walking. Somewhere along this stretch of our death march, Jesse caught back up to us. The three of us slowly, and very painfully, made our way to the finish. Mission accomplished. Hardly, but it was over and done with.

What did I learn from it? Nothing at that time. Was this the glorious intro to distance running I was looking for? Not exactly. Why would I ever want to put myself through a hellish experience like that again? You can keep your distance running. Heck, why even run. I was done...or was I? Yeah, I was done.