Rock n Roll Marathon

Rock n Roll Marathon

Brad and I got the Omaha airport around 7:00 p.m. on Friday evening. I saw a friend, Brandie and her mom and two daughters waiting for a flight to Chicago. I hung out with them while we waited for our flight to Phoenix. We arrived in Phoenix a little before midnight on Friday. We realized on Friday that we hadn’t rented a car. Not a good idea. We waited in line for about forty-five minutes to find out the cheapest vehicle they had was a Ford Mustang convertible. We made it to Brad's brother’s house around 1:00 a.m. At this point I had been up for twenty-two hours because I had a ton of work to do before I left. Make a mental note to self: sleep in the days preceding a marathon is a good thing.

Saturday was much better. I slept in until 10:30. That may be a record since Benjamin was born in 2001. We took the Mustang downtown, picked-up our packets, and hung-out at the expo for a while. I bought gift for Benjamin and David. Then we had a huge lunch at the Hard Rock Café. I had a pulled pork sandwich, fries, onion rings, baked beans, coleslaw, and three Cokes. We journeyed our way out to Sun City West. I made an executive decision that Amber and I are going to retire there in about thirty years. We hooked up with Gail and Dean, some friends from Omaha who live in Arizona in the winter. Brad and I drove their super-charged, street-legal, golf cart around the neighborhood. Since Brad is too young to drive the rental car, I generally let him have the honors. Top speed of the golf cart: 28 miles per hour. Roughly 24 miles per hour faster than Brad's projected pace for the marathon the next day. Gail was kind enough to make us dinner. The menu: salad, spaghetti, meat sauce, and bread. I had three chocolate chip cookies, two peanut butter cookies, and three scoops of vanilla ice cream smothered in chocolate sauce for dessert. I washed it all down with two or three glasses of cranberry-grape juice. I wasn't going to run out of fuel tomorrow.

I met Paul at the start. He came up to me before the race and asked if there was a three hour pacer. I told him they generally don't start until 3:10 or 3:15, but that I was going to do the first seven or eight miles at a three hour pace. We decided to run together.

I turned around right before the race and saw a mass of humanity behind me. 10,000 marathon runners and another 25,000 half-marathoners. Amazing. Every one of these people have a special story. Most of them, with the exception of Brad, had trained for this day.

They sang the National Anthem, the gun shot, the balloons were let go of, and we were off and running.

Although I got to start near the front, hundreds of people were passing us. I told Paul just to chill out. The marathon is 26.2 miles and the most common mistake is starting off too fast. We hit our first mile right at seven minutes. Lesson: the race in the marathon and in life doesn't go to the swift but to those who keep running.

The first mile was fan, easy, and effortless. We picked up the pace in miles 2 and 3 -- 6:47 for each mile. Lots of fans were cheering us on. People from a church with big yellow signs were shouting at us that we were going to hell for running on a Sunday. Paul said: "I hope we don't have to listen to this $#!% the whole way."

We chatted a bit. He is a rowing coach at Princeton University. I told him I was a pastor, but that my church was a bit more graceful than the people with the big, yellow signs.

By now we were passing most of the people who passed us in the early miles. Mile 4 was 6:46 and mile 5 was 6:43. I felt great.

I have a few goals for running. The first is to treat my body as God's Temple. I neglected that for years. I have been running for about nine months and feel so much better than when I wasn't exercising. The second goal is to glorify God. I want to inspire people and bring them closer to God.

I had an additional goal for this race: to break three hours. I ran 3:13 in Sioux City this fall and knew that I could do much better.

Paul and I continued to chat and enjoy the race. I figured the longer I could keep thinking about how far I had gone and how far I had to go...all the better. Mile 6 was another 6:41. Each mile was getting faster and I was now on pace to break three hours.

At mile 7 Paul told me we was going to slow down a bit. We shook hands and I was off. Another lesson: marathons and lives are both best when done in the company of others.

I remember some great bands and some great fans around mile 7. They were launching some hot air balloons too. I had another 6:41 for mile 7. I had the the same split for three miles and it felt comfortable. A average pace of 6:52 is needed to break three hours.

I was passing lots of runners at this point in the race. I was wondering if I should slow down to: but me being the quintessential optimist I kept moving along. I had a 6:33 for mile 8 and a 6:31 for mile 9. I was getting faster every mile. Another lesson: optimism is good, common sense is even better. Keep reading if you don't believe me.

This course is flat and fast. Mile 10 was an exception. We ran into a pretty stiff headwind. A fast woman asked me if she could run with me. What this meant was "Could I block the wind for her?" She wasn't too chatty. We ran 6:43 for mile 10 and 6:39 for mile 11.

I saw a pretty big pack of runners about one hundred yards in front of me at about mile 12. I picked up the pace to hook up with them. I ran 6:29 during that mile and lost the woman who was drafting off me.

Here was the plan: I was going to hang out with this pack for five to seven miles and then kick in the last six. I was still feeling awesome and was way below three hour pace. Mile 13 was 6:30 and I hit the halfway mark at 1:27:38 -- a 2:55:16 pace.

I stuck with the plan for a few miles. Mile 14 was 6:27 and mile 15 was 6:28. The pack fell apart at this point. I took off again and this guy Jimmy came with me. I was thinking 2:54 or 2:55 was a good possibility at this point. Jimmy and I ran 16 and 17 together: 6:40 and 6:51. In two miles my perspective on this marathon and on life totally changed. It was no longer fun and effortless; it was hard and the end was no where in sight. I thighs were burning. My left hip was shot. And the really bad news--I still had eight miles to go.

The night before I talked to Maureen on the phone. She was running a marathon in Houston. She told me when I start hurting to pick-up the pace instead of slowing down. At this point I would have pretty much tried anything. I picked it up a bit, running a 6:46 for miles 18 and 19.

By this time I was trying to think of anything to occupy my mind. I tried the optimist thing for a while. "I am still running my miles below sub three hour pace." That worked for about a minute. I then started praying for The Water's Edge worship experience. They were worshipping. I was running. That one lasted about ten minutes. Mile 20 was 6:51. My total time was 2:13:49 which is a 2:55 pace.

I started to really focus at mile 21. I was hopefully to maintain the pace from the previous 20 miles. I was breathing better and I only had six miles to go. I was running by myself at this point. The crowd was thin in places too. I knew I was in the top 100. The nearest runner was about 50 yards in front of me and 100 yards behind me. I did 6:49 for mile 21 and had another good mile at 22: 6:54. Lesson: when struggles come in life, it is best not to be alone.

By mile 23, I was no longer racing. I was just trying to finish. I gave it my best shot. I slowed down to 7:17 during mile 23. Everything hurt, I was getting cold, and I felt like I had to throw up.

There was a huge crowd and lots of bands at mile 24. I managed to break 7:00 one last time with a 6:57. Lesson: support and encouragement is priceless!

Miles 25 and 26 were brutal. I still managed a 7:17 and a 7:14, but it took everything I had. I thought about David, the baby, and Benjamin, the boy. All the sacrifices that Amber makes so I can run. The people at the church who are the greatest friends. I thought about the pain Jesus went through. The pain I was going through was a mere glimpse of what he went through.

Thousands of people lined the streets of Arizona State University. The last 385 yards were fun. I hadn't had fun for over an hour. The last two tenths of a mile took 1:36. I beat 3:00 when I crossed the finish line in 2:57:57 -- my best time by 16 minutes. Gail and Dean and their granddaughter were there. I held on for a spot in the top 100.

I hooked up with Paul after the race. He did great job running it in 3 hours. He qualified and is looking forward to Boston.

After eating 8 chocolate chip cookies and a bag of Chili Cheese Corn Chips, I went to the UPS truck and got my bag. Called Amber. She predicted a 2:57. Had a text message from Maureen -- she ran 3:03 -- a great time. Called her and congratulated her. Got lots of calls from friends. Worship went well. One of the biggest crowds ever. I thought to myself: Maybe I should take more Sundays off if more people are going to show up!

In a heroic effort, Brad, who hadn't trained for the last month finished in 4:02.

Dean bought me lunch #1 -- a double cheeseburger, fries, and a Coke while we waited for Brad. Dean and Gail brought us lunch #2 -- I had a 12 inch Pastrami sandwich from Subway, with chips and cookies and more Coke.

Brad and I made it to the airport by 7:00 p.m. and were in Omaha by midnight. I had a great time with him.

Really sore, but a great race. I trained hard for the race and did my best during the race. I can't wait for Boston. Only three months away!