Running legend, Steve Prefontaine, once said, “A lot of people run to see who is fastest.  I run to see who has the most guts.”

Today I ran a marathon.  All by myself.  On a Monday.  With a high temp of 25 degrees.  Which means that it actually felt like it was in the teens.

This was my 10th marathon, but what made it different than my first 9 was that there was no fanfare.  There was no Expo. No packet pick up.  No Race t-shirt.  No chip time.  No start corrals.  No official course map.  No one standing along the course cheering and clapping.  No funny signs of encouragement to read along the way.  No aid stations.  There were no other runners running the course with me.  It was just me, making up the route as I went along.

If you read my last post, you know that I was supposed to run a trail marathon on Saturday.  But the Tecumseh trail marathon, along with several other larger, better known races around the country, was cancelled due to inclement weather.  If you read that post, you would also know that my friend Derrick told me to go run it on my own.  So that’s exactly what I did.

I told almost no one that I was going to do this because I wasn’t entirely sure what would happen.

Last night I carb loaded with Katrina.  We ate pizza and left over chocolate ice cream cake from Lindsey Farrell’s birthday dinner, while we watched the movie The Holiday.  Then I drove home, climbed into my bed and didn’t move until about 7:30 this morning.

When I got up, the plan was already formed in my head.  Since there was no official start time, I slowly got dressed in my warmest winter running gear while I brushed my teeth.  I made my way to the kitchen for a bagel and peanut butter with my coffee.  I took my time eating breakfast as I contemplated what I was about to do.  Eventually, I hopped in the car and drove over to Castlewood.  There was only one other car in the third parking lot on the right when I pulled in to our crew’s usual meeting spot.  But I knew everyone else was either working or tending to kids or doing their typical Monday morning routine that didn’t involve a Castlewood run since they had all been there the day before.  I stayed in the heat as long as possible while I gathered my necessary items.  Gu, ipod, Garmin. I filled my water bottle.  I was beginning to really question my sanity since what I was about to do seemed somewhat crazy.  Run 26 miles by myself in the freezing cold?  I don’t actually have to do this.  I grabbed my trail shoes from the back seat and began to lace up when another car pulled into the lot.  I recognized Rosie’s car immediately and we both waved.  I couldn’t have been happier to see anyone else!  Rosie’s arrival was perfect because, you see, this is a girl who would run Castlewood marathons as training runs for the Mark Twain 100.  That’s right, she ran 100 miles at one time.  That is fantastically, awesomely insane!  And I love it.  Even better than Rosie’s encouragement that I could accomplish what I was about to set out for, was the fact that we were both in our matching purple and neon Fleet Feet wind blockers that we got at the staff Christmas party last year.  Rosie set off up Lone Wolf hill and I continued my preparations.

Finally, I was ready to go.  I turned on my ipod, locked the car and hit start on the Garmin.  Well, here goes nothin…

I started out by running along the road in the snow toward the River Scene trail, under the train tracks and made a left to the start of the trail.  I followed River Scene over to Cedar Bluff, went through the tunnel and did the 2ish mile loop through the woods.  Once I came back through the tunnel, I jumped on the Al Foster trail and followed it all the way past the mini train depot to the turn around point.  That was somewhere around Mile 10 and I must have been slightly delirious from the cold, or I was trying to keep my face from freezing, since I was singing Rihanna’s Rude Boy as I passed a sweet old couple.  They said Good Morning, hopefully they weren’t offended by the lyrics.  I started back down Al Foster, but when I got to the parking lot where I would usually turn left, I stayed right to continue along next to the river.  That eventually hooked me into familiar territory which I stuck with all the way back along the river and to the car for a refueling session.  Rosie’s car was no longer in the parking lot.  18 miles down, 8 more to go…

It was a welcome 5 minute break.  Despite the couple of salted caramel Gu’s I had taken at various points on the course, my stomach had started growling a few miles back.  I jumped in the car, checked my phone, ate a Peanut Butter and Jelly flavored Bonk Breaker, refilled my water bottle, restocked my Gu and already my body temperature was starting to plummet.  I knew I had to get back out there and stay warm or I was a goner.  I made sure I had everything I needed, locked the car up again and restarted the Garmin.

This time I went up Lone Wolf hill, which was a tough climb on tired legs, but it got me warmed back up quickly which I needed.  Once I was at the top, I ran along the bluff overlooking the River, then came down the switchbacks that brought me to the creek.  With 6 miles still to go, I didn’t really feel like dealing with wet shoes in 20 degrees, so I avoided the creek crossing and went back to Grotpeter so I could get to the other side.  I ran over to Cardiac Hill wondering how I was really going to make that climb.  But I crossed the road and started up the aptly named hill. I slowed to a walk about a third of the way up to conserve energy.  At some point it makes just as much sense to slow down and walk the tough hills in order to have enough left to carry on when you get to the summit.  Kind of profound, huh?

The last few miles are kind of a blur.  At mile 21, I ate my last Gu, mostly just to give myself something else to think about for a minute.  At mile 22, I was more than ready for it to be over.  I knew I couldn’t just walk the rest though because I’d freeze out there.  So I kept putting one foot in front of the other, like every other marathon I have ever done.

Once I came out of the woods, I was near the parking lot.  I had to sort of make up where I was going for a stretch, back and forth through the snow to get the last bit in.  I finally made one last trip under the train tracks out to the river.  With only a mile left I had to slow to a walk as a family of deer was blocking the trail. I counted 9 of them.  10 feet in front of me.  Several of them ran off, but two of them stood where they were and watched me pass.  I smiled at my cheering section.

I picked up the pace again.  And finally started back to the car.  I was exuberant at the thought of being done.  Even though it was weird that I was about to finish a marathon with no official time.  No photographers.  No real finish line to cross.  No crowd of people lining the shoot with shouts of excitement.   No medals. No fanfare.  No glory.

I had less than half a mile when I noticed a car.  Mark, one of only 3 people who knew I was out there, had come to cheer me into the finish.  I ran past him to go the last .3 miles.  And I finally looped back around.  I had gone a little farther than I needed but that usually happens in races of considerable distance because unless you cut the tangents perfectly you end up going slightly out of your way.

I stopped running when I hit the pavement of the parking lot.  Mark jumped out of his car to greet me.  It was surreal.  I was tired.

26.33 miles of trails in 4 hours and 41 minutes.  My run took me through familiar parts of the park and new areas to explore.  I was the fastest one on the course today.  I won the race. But I wasn’t setting any land speed records, that’s for sure.  This run wasn’t really about that though.  Like “Pre” said, I wasn’t running to see who was fastest; I was running to see who had the most guts.

I have absolutely no proof that I ran all 26.33 of those miles today.  Who isn’t to think I may have driven around in my car for part of that time to make my Garmin read those numbers?  I saw no more than 10 people while I was running and I don’t know a single one of them. I am the only person who truly knows without a doubt that I did it.  I proved to myself today that I’ve got guts.  And that’s really all the glory I will ever need.