2012 Miami Marathon (from this month's blog)
The classic marathon, the 26.2 miles, is not the most demanding sport event. The Triathlon (which includes a full marathon, besides 2.4 miles swimming and 112 miles biking) or professional biking, such as the Tour de France (2,200 miles in three weeks) are two more demanding events; nevertheless, the marathon is, by far, the one with more history and meaning.
2500 years ago, the mighty Persian army was invading Greece, and in a short matter of time, they were already in the city of Marathon, 26 miles from Athens. The Athenian generals knew that if they were defeated, the Persians would conquer Athens, slaving the families and looting everything. The citizens of Athens had a plan: they were going to burn the whole city if the battle was lost, so the eventual Persian victory would not be complete. In an amazing demonstration of strategy, and against all odds, the Athenian army won the battle, nevertheless, victory came late, hence, the generals were very worried that the citizens of Athens, fearing a defeat, would burn the city. Phidippides, the best messenger/runner, was chosen by the generals to deliver the victory message in time, so the city could be saved. He ran as fast as he could, finally saying, in his last breath, the now famous words, we have won or simply Nike, in Greek, and dying after that. The Marathon honors this heroic deed.
I have been training for the 26.2 miles, my first marathon, for ten months and it has been very entertaining mainly because I travel a lot, so I have run in Chile (Santiago, Arica, Iquique, Valdivia), Peru (Lima), Bolivia (Santa Cruz de la Sierra), Mexico (Ciudad de México, Querétaro, Playa del Carmen, Guadalajara, Mexicali) and USA (Hollywood, San Francisco, Champaign and
Chicago). My initial plan was to run the Buenos Aires Marathon, but because of a minor injury I couldn’t do so. I chose Miami because the date had a perfect timing with my recovery and my peak in training. So now I’ve gone through not only months of training but, specially in the last weeks, healthy diet, good sleep and no alcohol.
My initial goal was to run this marathon in 5 hours (which is ok, since I hadn’t been training for the last 20 years), nevertheless, a couple of weeks ago, I decided to run without a watch and just have fun, vibrate with all the people and just be thankful for this opportunity.
Sunday, March the 29th, 5:30 AM. The streets are crowded with runners heading to the start line. As we are arriving, we see a group of handicapped runners on specially adapted bikes. We all stop, let them go through and give them a big applause. The Marathon is first, a ritual of honor and respect.
We are 20,000 runners, 16,000 of them are running the half marathon and only 4,000 are here for the full race. At 6AM we are in front of the American Airlines Arena (where Miami Heat plays). I see runners of all races, ages and sizes, most of them in full concentration mode listening to music. Countdown begins, but we all know that only the ones who are near the starting line will begin racing immediately. I am in corral G, so I cross the starting line when the clock marks 23 minutes. This is important, of all the 4,000 full marathon runners, maybe 50, at the most, are looking for a win; the rest run basically against themselves and everyone has a personal reason for running. Mine? Simply to test the limits of my will.
The race begins, I have 26.2 miles in front of me and rock n’ roll sounds welcome me. A very good sign. Through the loudspeakers I can happily listen Van Halen’s Jump and Guns’ Welcome to the Jungle.
The Marathon is a race of strategy, that has to be planned in advanced in a cold-clever way because, due to excessive enthusiasm, you can easily burn out, and you are done, you simply cannot finish. I follow the advice of Jeff Galloway, who recommends in his books to walk in every mile. I will walk 20 seconds every mile, this way I can keep my energy through all the race and finish without major difficulties.
In every mile there are Aid Stations with water and Gatorade (where I plan to walk my twenty seconds), besides that, every once in a while you can eat pineapples, oranges and strawberries. You have to say yes to all of that, but it is not enough, that’s why every runner has a little bag with plenty of stuff. Mine has 8 power gels (carbohydrates and caffeine), electrolyte pills and pain killers. Every three miles I eat one power gel; every six miles I have an electrolyte pill and mile 30 is reserved for the pain killers. I already had two last night and another two before the race.
I try not to run fast at the beginning, but even so, I’m faster than most. I make myself to go slower, but still in this conscious slow mode I’m still faster than many runners. During this first part of the race, the streets are filled with runners, so you have to be very concentrated, otherwise you could hit someone and that is never good. Always look to both sides if you want to move left or right.
In a few minutes we are all running towards Miami Beach, through MacArthur Causeway. You can see many cruises on the left side, and if you look carefully, there are even some people waving at us. It is dawn, and the colors of the sky are amazing. A motivation technique I use is to be nurtured by the whole scenery: landscape and people, and Miami has a lot to offer: beautiful places and very enthusiastic people.
A Marathon in the USA means everything is going to work as planned, with very little margin of error, but what really surprises me is the energy of the non runners. From the beginning till the end of the race there are people (some of them still in their pijamas) cheering and giving you positive messages. Everything from you look hot to vamos chico que tu puedes. There are lots of written messages as well, my own favorite: Toenails are for sissies, referring to the fact that many runners will lose some toenails during the race.
Miami Beach has many cool hotels and bars, and while we run through Ocean Drive I see a lot of famous places, such as the Colony Hotel and all the Art Deco architecture that has been immortalized in movies. I feel good, I know there is still a lot ahead, I have run just 6 miles, but I have the conviction that I will reach the finish line. If I can’t run, I will walk. If I can’t walk I’m even willing to crawl, but I will go all through the whole 26.2 miles. It is a promise I make myself.
When we are arriving to Dade Boulevard, at the end of Miami Beach, there are many people cheering, both sides of the streets: I feel like a gladiator in a triumphal way to Rome.
Now we are heading back to Miami going through five small islands: Rio Alto, Di Lido, San Marino, San Marco and Biscayne. In every one of those there are bridges with an inclination that can be tough. Here is where Danny Dreyer’s Chi Running technique comes handy. I use the force of gravity on my favor, magically running with little effort, and faster than many other runners. On the far end I see many mansions and yachts.
Everything is under control, we arrive to mainland Miami and in just a few more blocks we are in mile 11 going through Miami Avenue. A little more running and we reach the first half of the race, here the path splits in two: most of the runners take the left path and run towards the finish line of the half marathon. A few of us take the right path. This is just the beginning, until now we all have had a wonderful 13.1 mile warm up, but the true race is just beginning. It is from now on that our spirit, all those months of training and our will are going to be tested. Hardly tested.
We continue running through Miami Avenue to the South where we enter beautiful neighbors. People are still cheering: looking good!, great job! But now, and this is new, policemen are cheering as well. This I didn’t see it coming. In every corner there is a police officer who, besides controlling traffic, give us kind and motivational words. Remarkable! Thank you guys, it really makes the difference.
Miles go one by one, I try to stay calm. I have the absolute certainty that I will reach the finish line, I only have to wait, keep doing what I’ve been doing until now, and above all, continue having an amazing time. Every second. My heart feels good: besides from being extremely happy I’m having a healthy heart rate. How do I know if I’m running without a watch? Simple. If I can sing without gasping, it means that my rate is near 120 beats per minute. We arrive to Coconut Grove, somewhere near mile 17. Again a lot of people cheering and supporting us in a very respectful way.
A few more miles and we are entering a dangerous zone: mile 20, the infamous Wall. It is a physical and psychological barrier where everything tends to be harder. This zone marks the point where many give up. Sadly I see a runner in a stretcher, entering an ambulance. I am running ok. I have hydrated systematically and have had all the food a marathonist should have. Besides that, I’m happy and confident. If I see a wall I will destroy it in a million pieces, and, in fact, I do just that. When I pass the 20 mile mark I imagine a big wall and just go through it, smiling.
This is ending, only 6 more miles. I have gone through 75% of the race and nothing can stop me now. The path lead us to Rickenbacker Crossway, where a beautiful sight of Biscayne Bay can be appreciated. This part is hard because you can see what’s coming: a nice mile going down, but then another mile going up. At this point of the race the legs feel everything times five, mentally I just laugh: if everything would be easy, then victory would not be as sweet.
In the middle of the up-mile a woman passes me, she has a sign that says 5:00. In every marathon, there are this experienced runners who help others to fulfill their time goals by showing the speed required to finish the race in a certain time. I’m thrilled because this means that I can finish the race in 5 hours, my original goal. I swear myself not to let her go. I will hunt her, she will not go away.
We reach Brickell Avenue, the final street before the finish line, the last two miles. I ask the 5:00 woman if we are on time, she looks at her watch and tells me we have 40 seconds in the bank. This means I can finish my first marathon in 4:59:20! Deep emotions come to me: I will reach my goal! But now something happens, new inner energy emerges and I decide to run these last miles giving everything, absolutely everything I have. I begin to run faster. I see the last Aid station and I decide not to stop. Who needs water at this crucial moment? More and more people are cheering. There is a final bridge with a hard inclination so I just move my upper body forward, grit my teeth and I look down; and, just as if I was being held by the gods, I run like flying. Last curve, I look at the sideways, hundreds of people cheering. At the end of the path I finally see the Finish Line.
I run, I laugh. I keep running, I cry. I run some more, I say thanks. I imagined this sacred moment a thousand times. In the last ten months, every time I trained and felt sleepy, cold or tired, I pictured myself in this very moment and magically, extra strengths came always to me. Now this is real. This is the moment. In my head I start listening the triumphant Rocky theme.
Finally, after 4 hours, 57 minutes and 4 seconds, I cross the finish line.
There are three classic definitions of a Marathon: (1) a footrace of 26 miles, 385 yards; (2) a contest of strength; and (3) the triumph of will over reason. I personally choose number three.
For reasons that are beyond this article, a year ago, reason said I could not and should not run, nevertheless, today I have had the privilege of succesfully honoring a greek hero.
Everything hurts, even parts of my body I was never aware of, hurt; but I feel more alive that ever. I remember a saying: pain is temporary, pride is forever.
Jaime
