So...what do I do now?

I'm still sort of in shock. I was making plans with a friend for later this week and I realized that I could go out any night I wanted. The epic awesomeness of that has not yet sunk in. I wrote a little race report below - in summary: it was great, it was hard, it went by in a flash.

I took the whole day off on Friday, even though we weren't leaving until mid-day, because I knew I would be completely useless at work. I got up at 8, packed, and then putzed around and got nervous until noon. Funny aside – clearly my mind was elsewhere when I left my house, because somehow I ended up on the on-ramp to I-84 West instead of East. Sigh. That was a fun 10-minute detour.

The drive up was unremarkable, though very pretty. Packet pick-up was a snap. The pasta dinner was good – I was glad they had lots of salad too. I didn't eat a ton, just a normal dinner. I read something while training that said if you are going to carb-load, do it two nights before (i.e. Thursday night for me), because eating a ton the night before a race will just weigh you down (and maybe make you queasy). The nutrients won't be in your system until the following night at the earliest. That's how I prepared for my long runs and it worked for me, so I stuck with it. T and I drove to our hotel in Ellensburg. (We didn't go via the course, as I read another piece of advice that said doing so tends to make first-timers nervous. Like, I have to run THIS far? I think it was a good call.) We checked the weather, I laid out all my stuff, and we were in bed by 9:30. I have bedtime-only narcolepsy (note: not a real medical condition), so I had no problems getting to sleep. The first alarm went off at 5:45 (we set three…) and I woke up immediately. Got dressed, had water, coffee, two slices of whole grain toast with butter and grape jelly, and water. T and I arranged late check-out (it required some eye-batting, since I asked for an hour later than their usual late check-out) then left for the race HQ. The race has basically taken over the local Days Inn, so I got to use an indoor bathroom rather than a porta-potty. Of course by the time I got to the start line I had to pee again (and I didn't find a vacant porta-potty until Mile 16).

I got near the back of the middle at the start, and before I knew it we were off. The first few miles I considered kind of a warm-up, and tried to find a good settled pace. I also found the first of my pace bunnies. I admit that I really had no race strategy. I just wanted to run the whole way and beat Oprah's time. At the pasta dinner, one of the women who'd run the race before said they had pacers who wore rabbit ears, hence the name pace bunnies. I was hoping to find one during the race but I guess they didn't have them this year. So, I created my own pace bunnies. I'd find someone who seemed comfortable, and whose pace I liked, and stick to them like glue (figuring pretty much everyone there has more experience than I do). The first was a guy in a blue singlet and shorts. I stuck with him for about miles 1-3. Then either he slowed down or I sped up, and I passed him. After the first aid station I started following two women who were chatting as they ran. I stuck with them for about 3 more miles, until the next aid station. They stopped; I grabbed some water and kept moving. I was on my own for awhile until I found another bunny. He was a marathon maniac and (again) I stuck with him until an aid station. I then got slowly passed by a woman in blue whom I tried to keep pace with, but I could tell she was just a little too fast. I hung back, and by then we were in the middle miles. Twas then I found the Pace Bunny to end all bunnies. Her name was Gina and she was a 100-Marathon Club Member (her singlet told me these things). I figured: Here is a woman who knows her marathons! Stick with her, kid, and you'll be fine. So I did, until tragically, she stopped at an aid station. I was torn, and for a moment I actually stopped too (and grabbed an orange slice and some pretzels). But I knew that the longer I held the still the worse it would feel to start again, so I left without Gina. ::Single tear:: I figured that if she passed me, I would just velcro myself back onto her. She never did though, although it turns out she finished only about a minute behind me.

The rest of the race I ran pretty much bunny-less, although near the end I tried (and unfortunately failed) to run faster than these two really annoying people behind me. Ugh. The major hill at Mile 22 was ghastly. My quads felt the way I imagine tenderized chicken cutlets feel after being hammered with a mallet by an angry little Frenchman. I absolutely refused to stop though, and "powered" through it (powered = ran at approximately 2 mph). After that hill it was pretty much smooth sailing. I got a lot of friendly encouragement from people I was passing. I felt good, all things considered.

The most amazing moment for me came when I ran out of the canyon and could see the finish line. All of a sudden it hit me that I was going to do it. Not only was I about to finish my first marathon, but I was going to do it exactly the way I dreamed. I'd run the whole way and I wasn't destroyed. There might have been some sobbing, until I realized it was messing with my breathing. Back to business, kiddo.

I got to the finish, I got my hug, my rose, my hi-tek space blanket, and my medal, plus some fig newtons that were the absolute best thing I'd ever tasted in my life. T was crying. Strangely, I was not.
**
I think I've caught the bug. I started looking around to see when my next marathon will be. I should've signed up for Newport, danggit, which is now full. The Eugene Marathon is May 5 but it's like $105. Yowza!! North Olympic is in June, and only about $65. I think I'll aim for that. Oh, and yes, everyone I know (except Steve the fellow marathoner) thinks I've lost my remaining marbles.

PS - My new goal MIGHT be to qualify for Boston. But I just don't know if I care that much.