Lost Post: The Flying Pig Marathon

The Flying Pig Marathon was awful, so awful that I didn't even write about. I didn't neglect writing about it due to laziness, it was pure hatred that caused me to omit this from my blogging history, but with enough time I am able to discuss it. Let's start before the beginning.

Way Before the Race

The previous two weeks that I spent prior to the marathon were in Yuma, AZ, the lettuce capitol of the United States. There is nothing in Yuma, but lettuce fields and several strip malls. There isn't nary a sidewalk, and the only place to run is the side of the road. I also judge cities by their support of a Panera and a Whole Foods. If there is only a Panera, I can get by. Whole Foods is a bonus. I will travel for hours just to go there, and Yuma had neither. I ended up eating at Olive Garden three times in two weeks! So I ate like crap and I didn't get in solid runs. That was the point of me telling you all that.

I traveled from Yuma to Cincinnati, OH, on the Friday before the marathon. I met my friend Craig at the airport and discussed stratagems for Sunday. We stayed with one of Craig's very nice friends whose name I can't remember, but he loved P90X. That's kind of all you need to know anyway. The three of us went out to dinner at a very nice place probably owned by a mobster because he was very Italian and a ball buster. I ate pasta, of course, that was better than anything you'd find at the Olive Garden.

Then on Saturday we went to the marathon expo, which was well organized if a bit crowded. I met my parents there who drove down from Michigan. There was Flying Pig Merchandise galore. I don't think I've ever seen so much pink. I guess it was whimsical. They did their thing with it. I don't really remember buying anything specifically though because of all the pink and what I would describe as "crafty fug whimsy." The technical t-shirt that they gave away for running the marathon looked alright. I think everything was a bit feminine even for me. Oh, and there was also an event unfortunately titled "Pump and Run," where you would bench press on Saturday and then run on Sunday. I've been told short people will always win that event.

I think I met back up with Craig to eat lunch and drive the course. This was a good thing because there was one part of the course that gave me pause. I never really thought the hills would be that big of a deal and therefore never trained on them. (Also I trained on this island in the middle of the Pacific for about five weeks that was pancake flat and only 6.5miles in circumference.) So that got me a bit worried. Then we went back home and ate dinner and prepared for the next day by pinning bibs and laying out what we want to wear the next day.

The Day Before the Race

I always like to shower when I get up for the Marathon, even if I have to get up 20 minutes earlier than I normally would and it's already the crack of dawn. I feel more refreshed and I want to look good in pictures. I'm vain. Most running pictures really do look awful as it is, so I get help from wherever I can.

Looking good didn't really matter that day because it was pouring. There was torrential rains that I hoped would cancel the marathon. Even though I trained for 14+ weeks, I really didn't want to run in a monsoon. Also it was about 40 degrees, so it was a cold, wet run in addition to thunder and lightning. I honestly thought there was a 60% chance of it getting called off. It was NOT called off. Getting to the start line was chaotic because everyone, including Craig and me, decided to wait until the last minute. I dropped off my bag and I peed in the bushes. I took off my garbage bag poncho because I really didn't need it; I was going to get really wet regardless.

I lined up closer to the front and the gun sounded. Within a minute my shoes were water logged and my hair matted. I had to blink repeatedly to see with all the rain. In the beginning you go over to Kentucky for the first few miles. There is a bridge to get over and back which is at a slight incline. My parents were in Kentucky (in the rain!) with a sign that read "Robert You Were Adopted... From Kenya!" That made me laugh. My mom really came through with that one. There her and I are with it at right.

The Race Itself: Miles 1-9

To be honest I don't really remember a lot from that race. There wasn't a lot of people there because of the weather. From the advertisement, it seemed like there would be a lot of over the top crowd support and there really wasn't, not that I can blame them, but I will say that Cincinnati is a really charming city. I don't know if it's beautiful, but it is unique. There are a lot of stone buildings, and fun neighborhoods. I didn't know anything about the city before, but I would have fun exploring it if I were sent there for work.

The worst part of the marathon were miles 5-9, where the elevation increased over 300 feet. Even after the New York City Marathon, I didn't really think it would be such a big deal, but retrospectively, I think I really did a disservice to myself by not taking it seriously. I thought it would be fine because of the law "what goes up must come down" but I neglected the law of "it's harder to go uphill than it is easier to go downhill." Basically my legs (re: quads) were wrecked after this endeavor and never really recovered. The good news was that the rain had gone down to a drizzle, then a dense fog, then the weather was overcast but dry.



The Race Itself: Miles 11-26.2

I remember at about mile 13 and I was not too far off pace to make it sub 3 hours, but I was really hurting. So I made the mortal mistake of walking for a few seconds. I can't really describe the feeling except to say that my legs were like concrete. I thought to myself, "Whoa, that's not good," and I continued on watching people pass me who dressed in wacky outfits.

Around mile 16 I ran past the house where I was staying, and there is a turn around where I expected to see Craig, but I didn't see him. I got a little nervous because his goal was to qualify for Boston and he should've been somewhat behind me at this point. I continued on until about mile 20 when I really hit the wall. I stopped running and started walking. Then I started running again and continued run-walking until the finish line. I met a nice guy from Kentucky and we kept each other going until the finish. I don't know if I was physically tired so much as I was mentally tired. I knew that I wouldn't even be close to hitting 3 hours, so I just kind of gave up and wanted to finish. I was looking around for Craig and expected him to pass me at any minute. I initially was resentful of this because I have an ego and didn't want him to beat me, but eventually I decided that I really did want him to beat me because I doubted if I could make it under 3:10.

I think I finished just before 3:11, which was still a Boston Qualifier. So that felt good. I waited for Craig for about 10 minutes or so at the finish line but it was hard waiting there with everyone coming in. So eventually I met my parents at the designated meeting area sopping wet. I hugged them and we posed for wet pictures with the wet sign (see above). I think I ate a banana. Eventually Craig came through the chute having battled with asthma throughout the race. I think we were both disappointed with our results, but under the circumstances we were both happy to have finished with respectable times. It was a mixed bag.

Craig and I traveled back to the house and changed, relieved and tired. With my parents I drove back to Auburn Hills, MI, after having eaten the most delicious burger in the world. I wouldn't really recommend the Flying Pig Marathon, but I think the weather conditions really tempered my feelings. I definitely would recommend a flatter marathon for beginners or those who want to PR.