Endurance 50 Marathon Report

I don't know how he does it.

Dean Karnazes is waking up every morning, running a marathon in about four hours, then doing it all over again - each day in a different state, hitting all 50, with no rest days between.

I slept fitfully last night, dreaming that I'd lost my carefully-laid out clothing, that I was late, that I was left behind - but got up and ran one marathon this morning with Dean, and can barely walk this evening.

When I first heard of this stunt, of course I wanted to participate - and after all, I had a 22-mile run scheduled for Sept. 30 anyway, and Dean was supposed to run these marathons between 4:30 and 5 hours each. So I figured, sure, it's 4.2 miles longer, but it's slower than I planned to run a full marathon, so of course I could do it.

Well, Dean has been running around 4 hours, 4:15 or so, and since in my one marathon that I trained 16 weeks for I did 4:17, I knew today would be a stretch. The primary mitigating factor I tried to keep in my head was how much more fit I am now, how much more endurance I have, and how many events I've done this year that were much longer (in elapsed time) than a marathon, but still - with the half-Ironman last weekend, I am definitely not recovered and well-rested, and a marathon today, for me, wasn't probably advisable.

However, it was inspirational. A full group of 44 people showed up to run with Dean, who was so kind and interested in everyone. I'm fairly certain at some point in the marathon he ran next to every single person, heard their stories and discussed his running career - and then after the marathon, he continued to be incredibly generous with his time (taking quite a while to sign each participant's copy of his book, Ultra Marathon Man, but no one was complaining).

The race itself was not actually the Seafair Marathon course, as advertised - it was two loops of the Seafair Half Marathon, which is one of the few races I've done twice (now four times!). It was kind of hard to hear that two miles in - I knew coming to the finish line the first time would be demoralizing.

For the first loop, Danielle and I were usually in the front of the crowd. We were running between a 9:15 and 10 minute mile - perfect and comfortable. A bunch of the guys were really fast runners, so we kept speeding up a little then having to pull it back so we continued to have our police escort (the rule was, stay with Dean or you're on your own). When we got back to Bellevue's Downtown Park to begin the second loop, though, about half the group dropped off - the back half. That left the faster folks to run with Dean.

We had done the first 13.1 in 2:08, but by about mile 15 or so I was seeing my position drop from the front of the pack to the middle to the back...and by mile 17 or so, I could no longer keep up. I told Danielle I wasn't going to be able to stay with the group, and I don't even need to say what she did - of course she stayed with me.

Unfortunately, this meant that we lost the police escort stopping traffic and had to use sidewalks and crosswalks in order to follow the course - so we fell behind not only because I was slower, but also because had to stop and wait for the lights.

At one point, we almost caught back up to Dean - he had pulled off the course to use a Porta-Potty - but he was far enough ahead and must have sprinted to re-catch the group, because we couldn't make it. So we navigated the course ourselves - thank goodness for my great memory of these things, including where the mile markers were on the Seafair course (of course there were no mile markers out for us, but I knew where the 20 and 23 mile markers should have been, so that kept me motivated).

My calves had cramped at mile 14, and stayed that way the rest of the run. Other pains came and went in my legs and feet, and at some point, I felt weird cramping in my belly (which I later realized was likely the exact moment I got my period, sorry for the TMI, guys. Menstruation happens).

I had close to enough water and NUUN, though, and plenty of Jelly Belly Sport Beans and GU so I just kept on a decent eating schedule (every 50 minutes or so). At a couple of points, stuff hurt really bad. Danielle and I debated what we would tell someone else who was in pain - would we tell someone to walk? To stop? To keep going and push through? I knew from the street crossings that stopping sucked, but I wasn't sure about walking. Somewhere before mile 23, we decided to try it.

We stopped running and started walking, and all of a sudden it felt to me like I was trying to go through a brick wall. The air felt heavy and thick and my arms wanted to cut through it as if it were water and I was swimming. My head spun and suddenly it was actually harder to breathe. I believe Danielle felt something similar, because we looked at each other, said, "Uh-uh!" and started running again.

At mile 25 I stumbled over a bump in the sidewalk (Danielle had stumbled there on the previous loop, too). My left foot went all the way forward in my shoe, slamming my toes against the top, and I think I screamed. It hurt like hell, and I couldn't run normally anymore. I was running on the side of my left foot and almost regular on my right foot - a very bizarre feeling - but we were so close and I was going to finish running.

We had to cross another street, and after we did, I got a burst of energy that helped push me up the final hill to the finish line. My toes didn't hurt quite so badly then (although they sure do now!) and we picked up the pace considerably. Nothing hurt for a moment - and we saw the finish line, started our sprint, and stayed together.

The rest of the group had finished already, but they all looked when we arrived and started clapping and shouting for us. Even Dean, already signing autographs, came out from behind his table to greet us and give us both kisses on the cheek for finishing.

The run wasn't officially timed for anyone but Dean, but our heart rate monitors said we'd been going for 4:28. Take off 5-7 minutes for street crossings, and that's not a bad marathon!

So now, I'm incredibly sore. It's hard to walk. My knees and feet hurt. My hip flexors hurt and I'm walking as if I just got off a horse (I imagine...I've never actually been on a horse). My back and neck are a little sore, and I'm exhausted. Tomorrow I want to do nothing but sleep, and tomorrow Dean is going to wake up and do the Portland, OR Marathon. I'm impressed!

Dean has updated his blog with his report about the marathon today - if he did it in 4:07, as the site reports, no wonder I couldn't keep up - that means he did a 1:59 for the second 13.1, negative splitting the thing by quite a bit. And there's a picture here - Danielle and I are in pink, in the back, one person separating us from Dean. :-)