My watch alarm beeps at 3:30 am January 8th, and my eyes snap open. It's here. Today is the day I run to my goal or walk to shame. I hastily pull on my running shorts, tank top, and my new highlighter and green Saucony Kinvaras. My whole body was shaking with nerves and lack of sleep as I swallowed a banana and piece of bread. I grabbed my GU's and my race bib (which beared my name) and headed out the door.
I got to Epcot around 4:15, and I took in the scenery in the parking lot. The place was crowded with runners of all shapes and sizes, some wearing sleek singlets, others in goofy hats and tutus. Many were standing in groups and laughing, some swinging their legs and discussing race strategies. I followed the signs that led to the start, and immediately met a stream of runners walking slowly on the sidewalk, like cattle headed to the slaughterhouse.
My doubts fought with the optimism in my head the whole way to the corrals. I didn't run a single step before the race, in fear of feeling that pain in my hamstring that kept me from successfully tapering. I thought of how long it would take me to walk, how disappointed I would feel if I did, and feared that I would do damage that would take months to heal. No, I thought to myself, stop it. Just go out and do your best. You worked so hard for this, don't blow it!
I bobbed and weaved to the "A" corral. I began a series of lunges to warm up, and after a while I noticed that a camera man was recording it. Wonder where that video ended up. I shook my legs and listened to the pre-race announcements. "Party Rock" by LMFAO came on, and I began to dance. I really hate that song, but at 5:25 am right before I was about to run a marathon, it actually pumped me up. Before I knew it, Mickey counted down 3...2...1.. , and fireworks shot up from the start banner, along with a row of flames. The wheelchair division was off. The A corral moved up to replace them, as as we did, that is where I finally let my preoccupations go. I was ready to race. Mickey once again counted down, and even more fireworks lit up the sky. I began my journey through the cool morning air with a smile on my face and in my heart. My first few steps were painless. I smiled even wider. Let's race!
I could see the bobbing 3:15 pace group sign in front of me. It called out my name, begging me to run with them. No, I told myself. Just keep them in view. Well, so much for that. Before I knew it, I was right behind the guy holding the sign, watching his hair bounce up and down with each step. I stuck with them all the way through mile 16. That was okay, though, because my goal was 3:20, even though I was training for 7:30 pace. I saw lots of waving Disney characters along the way, the ones I can remember included Snow White, Chip and Dale, Captain Hook and Smee, Goofy, Mickey and Minnie, and Jack and Pocahontas. I felt ridiculous waving back to them, but there was something about it that made me feel better. I also danced to the YMCA somewhere around mile 18 and made a drumming motion to some fat drummer guys in Animal Kingdom. I was doing anything to keep my spirits high. The going got really tough a bit after mile 20.
At mile 22 we made the turn for Epcot, with a video screen of us running and an announcer asking us to tell him where we were from. Unable to talk, I just Gator chomped. "We've got a Gator in the house! I'm from Gainesville too! Go Gators!" The announcer boomed. I was temporarily excited, but then my attention returned to my labored breathing and aching quads. The interior quads screamed and begged for mercy, and my ankles wanted no more pounding. My form was solid, but deteriorating. I walked for the first time through a water station around mile 23. My face was contorted in a tight grimace. As I walked by, a volunteer said to me "It's alright Kacy, honey, you've made it much further that I ever would have." I should have thanked her, but in the delirium of my fatigue, I just nodded. I walked though all of the remaining aid stations except for the last one. I was in so much pain, and I wanted desperately to stop running. I was shuffling along Epcot, with people telling me that I was almost there. All I could think about was "WHERE IN THE HELL IS THE FINISH LINE????" I peered across the water, browsing for any sign of the finish. The grimace was still stuck on my face as I dragged my body through the finishing shoot. Some girl sprinted by me at the end, by I didn't care (as far as I'm concerned, she must not have ran fast enough during the race if she could still sprint, haha) I was filled with elation and joy, but also pain and complete exhaustion. It took everything I had to finish the race. 3:23:25.
Just because I stopped running didn't make the pain go away. I waddled through the shoot to get my medal and picture in front of a Disney themed background. I grabbed a banana and 2 Clif bars and meandered to the runner reunion area. "Don't sit down, don't sit down, don't..." I couldn't help it. I sat down on my space blanket in the middle of the parking lot. Turns out sitting hurts too. Ouch, ouch, and more ouch. It took me a solid 3 hours to realize: I did it! I finished, and without a word from my hamstring!
The toughest thing though, is knowing that everything I have done over the past 6 months: the 18 mile runs, 10 mile tempo, 60 mile weeks, doubles, the half marathon, has led to this day, and now it's over. I had been waiting and worrying for the race for a month, and it was over. Now it's time to hit the reset button. I have to re-evaluate my goals, make new ones, and recover. I've been on marathon mode for way too long. Now is the time for something new--once I'm able to walk--not waddle.
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