During training, as I completed each of my long runs, I steadily built the confidence that I would be able to run the marathon at a decent pace come race day. During the race, I purposely swam and biked at an easy effort in an attempt to save energy and save my legs for the run. As I started the run, my plan was to continue to take the first 6 mi at an easy pace, focus on hydration and get my running legs under me. The first 10K took a little over an hour and I can honestly say that I succeeded in maintaining an easy pace. The problem was that once it was time to pick it up, I had nothing left in the tank.
It's hard to put into words how you feel when you realize that you have 20 miles of a marathon ahead of you and almost no energy to do it. By this time, I had been moving for almost 10 hours and really just wanted to sit on a curb or lay in someone's yard and take a nap. I spent the next 5 or 6 miles mostly walking and running for short spurts immediately before and for a short time after each aid station. I tried to keep the calories coming in via gels and powerade in hopes that I would get an energy spurt at some point, but apparently, it just was not enough.
The low point of the day came right after the halfway point in the marathon. At the end of the first loop, you literally come within 1 block of the finish line, see people complete their race, and hear spectators cheering "you're almost there!" even though you have 13 more miles to go and no desire to complete them. The picture below was taken right after I passed the finish line after the first lap. Fortunately, I more or less look like a serious competitor, but if there was ever a time that I wondered if I could make it, it was at this point.
During the second loop, I started implementing a strategy that I should have begun much earlier. My friend who introduced me to the sport of triathlon, we'll call him Anthony, told me that the cola at the aid stations was the best part of the run. I had also heard that chicken broth is great way to rehydrate after a long day in the heat (the high on race day was 96 deg), so at every aid station past mile 15, I had a cup of cola, a cup of chicken broth, and some powerade if I could handle it. I figured that if sugar, caffeine, and salt couldn't do the job, nothing could.
Somewhere around mile 16 or 17, I started run-walking with another guy and we pushed each other to pick up the pace for the subsequent 3 or 4 miles. By mile 20, the cola-broth strategy finally started to pay off and I felt good enough to start pushing my way towards the finish line. I resolved that I would stop walking, run the last 10K, and finish before 10pm. In the final couple of miles, I started to see more spectators and could hear the cheers near the finish line. With less than a mile left, I ran past my Iron Team (wife, mom, dad, and mother-in-law), got a boost of adrenaline, and sprinted to the finish line to hear that words that I never thought I would hear. "James Finley, you're and Ironman!"
