After 18 weeks of training, Grandma’s Marathon finally arrived. For days I was glued to the weather forecast as the day of the race drew closer. The last forecast I read said race day would be cloudy with a high of 70. When the gun went off at 7:45 that morning, we had bluebird skies overhead with a bright warm sun and it was already 71 degrees. I arrived to the starting line on the shuttle bus about 45 minutes before the start of the race and made my way to the bathrooms where I got in line behind what appeared to be five thousand people also waiting to use just one of the portable bathrooms available. Once the national anthem played, I was still quite a distance from the porta john and I started to get the feeling I might still be waiting in line when the race started. It was tempting to start the race and keep my fingers crossed in hopes I’d find somewhere to stop off somewhere along the way the way but with so many people in the race I figured it was probably not a very good idea plus it was rather like trying to not think of pink elephants; the harder you try, the harder it gets so I stayed in line and waited my turn.
When the gun went off, there were still several people in front of me waiting but eventually I did make it into a bathroom and came out on the run, hoping to catch up with the 4-hour pacer but there wasn’t a pacer to be seen and everyone was running much slower than I had expected. The route was very congested and my way was blocked by hundreds of slower runners. Weaving my way through them slowed me down considerably for the first mile or two but eventually I was able to pick up my pace and finally saw the 4:15 pace group somewhere around mile 12 or 13, less than a quarter mile ahead.
I really started to feel the heat now as the sun climbed. I continued to chase the pacer for the next 6 miles or so, doing my best to keep my focus on staying relaxed and enjoy the scenery but was careful to take advantage of every bit of shade along the way. Around mile 19 or 20, the heat really started to feel brutal and I began to get nervous as I was in uncharted territory. I didn’t know at what point my body would give in and succumb to the heat. I felt chills one minute and was burning up the next. My pace slowed considerably in response so I decided to walk through the water stops while pouring water over my head to help my body cool and drank at least two full cups of water at each stop.
This tactic seemed to work wonders and by mile 24 I was able to pick the pace up again. Along the way many people now had hoses out with sprinklers going and some good samaritians even had showers set up to help the runners. I took advantage of every water source I came across and made sure I got as wet as possible. There was very little shade in this section of the route but any little bit that did come along, I was there. The last couple miles through downtown was shaded pretty well by the tall buildings which also helped cool me off and as I cooled down my pace got stronger. By mile 25 I felt pretty good and actually passed over 80 people in the last mile before crossing the finish line!
Ever since I took up running some three years ago, I had dreamt about this day over and over again as I weaned myself off all my heart medications. Back then, I couldn’t run a mile without my body screaming in pain or protesting in some fashion. In fact, I would run out of breath just tying my shoes. I had had no medical guidance beyond instructions to take my medications and the only medical advice I was given was completely contrary to both the exercise and the diet I was embracing. Since I did not find the predicted physical outcome on medication acceptable, I had taken a risk and with that risk came many obstacles. Mental, physical, cultural, and
environmental obstacles continually reared their heads and tried to thwart my progress but by the end of the first summer I was able to run six very slow but very steady miles. Seeing that much improvement despite my cardiac conditions, coupled with how much better I physically felt, not only gave me great hope but also created the motivation I needed to continue my pursuit to adopt a healthier lifestyle.
Finishing this marathon is proof medication was not my only choice nor the best choice for me, and it stands as a great example how powerful our lifestyle choices can be. Thirteen different medications and a pacemaker could not reverse the damage to my heart or stop the progression usually associated with heart failure; yet a few lifestyle and dietary changes enabled me to complete my first marathon at age 49 in spite of my cardiac conditions and medical prognosis.