I learned two things today as a result of running my third marathon: Light rain is ideal weather for a long race and Percocet should not be taken on an empty stomach. Yes, I'm embarrassed to admit that I cracked open my old bottle of the stuff (issued after Olive's birth) to help me get through the remaining six miles of the race despite nearly debilitating pain in my quadriceps. This morning I had my traditional scrambled egg pre-race breakfast, but I'd worked off those before eleven when I ran into our house for a bathroom break. Totally not worth it, especially since they did little to alleviate my discomfort. Shortly after finishing I was swallowed by a wave of nausea, and as my dad and I walked to meet Rob and Olive I had to stop and hang over a guardrail, though the feeling passed without incident. We walked to our car, which Rob had parked near the aviary, then swung by the market so I could retrieve my glasses I'd left there yesterday. I walked a few paces from the car and then WHAMMO - I vomited up all of the cups of water and orange slices I'd consumed. All over my shoes, but it was okay because it was just that - water and orange - not nearly as gross as it sounds. After we got home I had some watered-down juice which also made a quick exit. There's no way I'm about to eat food with my stomach rejecting everything that enters. Best to stick with the light stuff.
But back to the race. It was a wonderful morning to run with the rain falling softly. We never got the thunderstorm that was predicted, and the overall lack of sunshine (during the final mile the sun finally broke through the clouds) made conditions a lot more manageable. Aside from my quads giving me grief, I really had no other physical complaints (no chaffing, no blisters, no backaches), which is nearly miraculous considering all that can go wrong when running for upwards of five hours. Speaking of times, I completed the race in 5:15:16, nine minutes slower than my last race, but eight faster than my first. I never expected to beat my 5:06 time - not today, anyway; I'd heard that the course was more difficult with more hills, and my training left much to be desired. I beg to differ about the part about the course being more difficult, though. There was talk about a formidable hill at mile 11 leading into Oakland (home of Carnegie Mellon, Pitt, and the museums), but it was modest compared to some other hills I know in Pittsburgh (I'm looking at you, Hill At South Negley and 5th Avenues), and hills I conquered on the Baltimore course. This hill was a pleasant surprise, to say the least. Folks were out in droves (thanks to the weather that reined itself in for everyone's benefit), and it was great to see Kat passing out water at mile 16, then some neighborhood friends just before mile 20. I don't know the cause of my emotionalism, but no fewer then three times during the race did I nearly break down in sobs of joy; the first was when the race went beneath a bridge and the crowd cheered. Why this got me I'm not sure. When I was running down Negley Ave. towards our house and I first spied Rob's curly head poking up above our hedge did it, too. These are intense things, these marathons. I'm not sure if I'll do Pittsburgh again next year, but definitely the year after that. We'll see what kind of time I have for training with a two year-old.
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