Great Wall Marathon 2016

To say that this semester has been challenging would be Midwestern nice. Maybe I would call it “interesting.” Spring 2016 presented itself with several challenges:

-10 credits in my masters-maybe that was a bit much in hindsight

-Coaching 70+ track and field athletes, which included a fabulous weekend in Beijing as well as a Great Wall visit with 30 students and several other weekends/nights of cold, wind, rain, and sun burn-in true track and field form.

-Training for the Great Wall Marathon. This also brought severe knee pain beginning in April. Doctor visits, heartache, and general sadness accompanied this knee pain.

-An apartment break-in on May 4^th. Loss of stuff and feelings of safety. And now we are apartment hunting. Again.

-Getting a sinus infection two weeks before the race and losing my voice here and there in the week before the race.

-Doing the actual job I am paid to do. All of the things listed above only cost me money, and something needs to pay the bills!

On May 21^st I was faced with the most challenging endeavor I have ever experienced. As I had completed the GW half marathon last year, I sort of knew what I was in for, but I really had no idea. In my blog, I wrote: I'm going back next year. I'm going to do the full. It's going to be awesome.

 

We left Suzhou on Friday on the bullet train and were checking into our hotel around 11:20 PM. Our wake-up call was only a few hours later as we had to be on the bus to the wall by 3:30 AM Saturday morning. We traveled by bus for about two hours, and then had two hours before our race to stay warm in the chilly mountain shadows. We also had two hours to question everything in our lives. My dear friend Kitty also took on the 42k with me. Anwer was about to complete his first half marathon, and there were some other teachers from SSIS there to do the half and fun run.

 

My wave began at 7:40 AM. The race begins with a 5k (3.1 mile) uphill climb to get to the wall entrance. Once on the wall, I did some steady walking. From last year’s experience, I knew to be conservative, and it was difficult to get around people during this time. As I was heading down and off the wall, Anwer passed me looking truly fabulous considering his longest training run was 10k. I kept him in my sights as I trucked along at a conservative but steady pace.

First time on the wall-looking happy, sweaty, and cool. 

With my knee pain plaguing me for the peak weeks of training, I had major concerns about my ability to complete the race. I had considered not racing at all or maybe switching to the half. My knees had gotten so bad by mid April that walking and stairs were becoming too much. I took three weeks off and did not run. I missed three long runs and had severe anxiety regarding the lack of training. This fear and anxiety begun creeping up as I was leaving the wall because I knew I was about to run more than I had properly trained for.

 

Once we headed into the village, I was excited to get my running legs back after the stairs. The course for the half last year was all flat, which I mistakenly assumed the full would be. I kept Anwer’s white Wisconsin hat in view, and I slowly caught him again. I was hoping one of the camera crew would catch us running side by side in a state of hope and pre-exhaustion. I left Anwer in the dust after about 1k together. Then the marathon course split from the half course and headed towards beautiful fields of trees and crops and general happiness. I could smell horse poop, and I liked it. There were children lining the sides of the course demanding high fives, waving, and in some instances requesting autographs. I used the least amount of energy possible to show appreciate for the fans.

As I was approaching the 21k mark (halfway; 13.1 miles), I could see a terrible view of some runners on their way back coming down a fairly steep downhill. Obviously, I was concerned to see what sort of uphill I might be approaching. We then faced another ~4k climb that was steeper than the first hill climb at the start of the race. I enjoyed an aggressive walk during this portion. Knowing I had to go back up the wall, there was no way to convince myself to run at this point. I had a reasonable time at the halfway point ~2:40, and I thought there was still hope for a reasonable time to finish.

By this point in the day, the sun was beating down and encouraging sun burn on all of the pasty participants. I was consuming as much water and Chinese Gatorade as I could without getting a gut ache. I enjoyed the downhill after the walk up, and I had a brief passing with my friend Kitty as she was heading up the hill I just finished. It is always good to see a familiar face in the middle of nowhere when you are starting to question your life choices.

The next section of the race continued to go down a bit through some dirt trails and more beautiful scenery. We finally rejoined the half marathon runners and were headed back towards the square where we started to head back up the wall. All things considered, I did not feel terrible. I still thought I would be OK. I returned to the wall at 4:40 with 8k left. After my first about 10 stairs, I knew things were about to get dark. I managed a few more flights, turned back and saw that I was so close to the square. I sat down, put my arms on my knees, and had a pre-cry gasp. I did not cry. I picked myself up and moved it along. Slowly. Very slowly. My legs were getting very crampy, and I had finished my Chinese Gatorade. I knew there was no more electrolytes on the course. I began to fear a calf cramp or foot cramp. There were a few people already down for the count on the wall screaming in pain, and I did not want to be them. I took the stairs in a variety of creative ways-sideways, backwards, toes out, toes in, anything to avoid using the calf muscles.

Finally getting off the wall and seeing the road that would begin the 5k downhill was a relief like no other. I wanted to run as quickly as I could and get it over with. My calves were still in no condition to handle any attempt of an aggressive downhill run. Still fearing cramps, I made the borderline crazy decision to lick my arms to get some salt back in my body. I recognized the crazy in this. I could taste a faint flavor of sunscreen, but I didn’t even care. I licked my arms as if my life depended on it.

Someone convinced me to smile or laugh, or I was starting to go nutty. 

I continued my casual jog down the 5k. I felt like I was going “fast.” Although, I’m sure it was nothing more than a fast walk. I ran towards the shade and tried to avoid any unnecessary steps. My knees began to ache for the first time. Running downhill will do that, and I tried to put it out of my mind. I was more or less alone in this part. There were a few runners here and there. I’d pass one. One would pass me. I got to the final flat 1k towards the finish, and I ran as much as I physically could manage. Running into the square did not bring the tears that I assumed would come pouring out. The announcer said my name, and I accepted physical defeat. My time was 6:15.30. Slower than I wanted, but I was happy to be alive.

I was hungry. I was thirsty. I was in pain. I had never felt pain like it before. My whole core was in pain. My back muscles. My abs. Laughing hurt. The heavy weight of the medal announcing my accomplishments hurt as it pressed on my chest. I looked frantically for shade and a place to sit. Anwer kindly got me some soggy Subway subs while I sat down. Chewing was difficult.

 

The Great Wall Marathon was unlike any other race or physical endeavor that I have ever attempted. I applaud those who take on this challenge. The physical and mental pain have left some scars that will take some time to heal, but I am grateful for this experience. And I hope to go back for the HALF next year!

Read my friend Kitty's post on the good, the bad, and the ugly of it all here.