Day 451 -- Quad Cities Marathon

OK, let's get this out of the way right away: I walked. I meant to run the whole thing, but it wasn't to be. I think I ran between 3 and 4 miles, total. I really don't feel bad about it. I think that I did the best that I could on this day. I did complete the whole 26.2 miles, which is a damn sight better than most people did today. So I'll leave running the whole marathon as a goal for the next marathon.

All right, back to the beginning. I arrived at the starting line about 45 minutes early. I knew that the best thing to do was to stay off my feet. I found a place to sit. Then I noticed a big clock that I couldn't see from where I was sitting, so I moved around to where I could see it. Then I decided I had to pee, so I wandered and found a bathroom without too long a line. Then I sat for a little more, and it was time to line up.

I tucked right in behind the pace team that was planning to run a 4 hour and 30 minute marathon. I thought I had a 4:30 marathon in me (Wrong!) and I wanted to be sure that I didn't go out too fast. It was crowded, but not as bad as some races I've been in. Exactly nobody commented on my t-shirt, on which my daughter had written "First Marathon" in large, clear letters.

Soon the announcements started. "Welcome to the 10th Quad Cities Marathon...Introducing our distinguished guests...blah, blah, blah." It wasn't too long, really. There was a flyover by a Chinook helicopter from the Rock Island Arsenal, which was pretty cool. Before long, we were off.

I had to laugh. They said, "Runners to your marks," and everyone around me tensed up, as if we were really going to start running right away. A little after they started the elite runners, we started shuffling forward, and by the time we crossed the starting line, we were able to run.

The race starts by running up the ramp onto the I-74 bridge. It's the only time all year that foot traffic is allowed on the bridge. The on-ramp is quite a hill, but we were all still fresh, so it wasn't so bad. There was no room to jockey for position, so I just stayed in behind the 4:30 pacers, and enjoyed the view.

I started to feel the need to pee again. Way too much hydration before I started, guess. The first porta-potty that we passed (at about 2.5 miles) was crowded, so I let it go. I hit another one at about 5 miles. It also had a line, but I had to go. I probably lost 4 to 5 minutes, which, at the time, I kind of resented. But as it turned out, it didn't make much difference.

At about four miles, I first heard a spectator comment on my t-shirt. If someone said anything before that, I never heard them. The comments would continue, and would become more frequent, as the crowds thinned out. I waved or gave a thumbs up every time anyone said anything (although at the end, some of the waves were pretty feeble.) It was so much fun, I think I'll wear it again for my second marathon.

From mile 5 to about mile 10, the course runs along a bike path on the north shore of the Mississippi river. It was very scenic, but there weren't a whole lot of spectators. I fell in with another guy going about the same speed as I was, and we swapped stories. He had lost 45 pounds since January, and was also running his first marathon. He was from right there in Davenport, and knew the area well. It was fun running with him, but as we crossed over into Rock Island, I lost him, and he never caught up with me again.

In Rock Island, the perks switched. It wasn't terribly scenic, but there were lots of good fans cheering us on. I felt good, and I was making good time.

After Rock Island, the course crosses over onto Arsenal Island, and the perks switched back. It was very scenic. We ran a good deal of it through the golf course on the island, which was pretty. But spectators aren't allowed at all, and the course workers were pretty far between. Most of us were tiring by now, and the conversation was lagging. We just put our heads down and ran.

One nice thing was that the marathon course and the half marathon course came back together, after splitting in Bettendorf. We were are 14 or 15 miles, but the half marathoners were at 10 or 11. So, by definition, we were going faster than they were. I passed a lot of people, which gave me a boost. But pretty soon the courses split again, and we were on our own.

The course leaves Arsenal Island at about 20 miles, and then plays the cruelest trick. It crosses back over into Moline at just about the finish line. If you look to your right, you can see people finishing, no more than half a mile away. But you aren't going right. You are going left. You've got three miles out and three miles back. Ouch.

At about 21 miles, my plan to run the whole marathon (minus the water stops) went out the window. I don't know if it was "The Wall," but a wave of exhaustion and nausea washed over me. The temperature was us close to 80, and there was precious little shade. I could not have kept running if I were being chased by a bear. (Fortunately, Moline is blessedly bear-free.) I must have looked bad. One of the guys on bicycles who patrol this last stretch looking for the walking dead stopped and asked me how I was doing. I gave him a weak but positive answer, and kept walking.

Before too long, I caught my breath and started running. I actually felt pretty good. I hoped to finish running, but I didn't. I'm not sure how many times I stopped in that last five miles, but I'm pretty sure that I walked all the way from mile 24 to mile 26. At mile 26, I kicked it into gear one more time, because I knew that they would be taking photos at the finish, and I didn't want to walk across the finish line. At this point, the course was lined with spectators, and a lot of them cheered for my t-shirt. One woman, who I think had just finished her own marathon, said I wouldn't be a virgin any more.

I coasted into the finish. Someone was announcing names as we came into the shoot. He called my name, said my home town, and mentioned that it was my first marathon. Whether he was reading my shirt or it said that in his notes, I don't know. I waved and smiled. I was done. My first marathon!

My time was just short of 5 hours. I can do better. I will do better on my next marathon. But I have no regrets. In fact, my cheeks hurt from having smiled more or less continuously since the marathon ended. I walked back to the car and grabbed my camera. I was parked close enough that I could walk back to the finish line and grab a stranger to take the above picture. Then I drove home. I'm sore, but happy. And I will do it again. Bet on it.