Somehow, I always forget that the DC Metro is not the NYC
Subway. I expect to get to the station and be on a train within 5 minutes.
There were plenty of people waiting for the train with me, and I gladly noted
that they were going to the same place I was. The marathoners must have all
been more responsible and on the train much earlier.
When we got to the Smithsonian station, there were people
everywhere. My first thought was, “OMG, what happened? Did they cancel the
race? Are the exits closed?” No, people were just hanging out in the station
for warmth. I was concerned about time because I was arriving later than
anticipated, so I made my way out of the station and onto the frozen Mall. I
immediately made my way to the Port-a-Potties. This was my first really big
race, and I was in no way prepared for the lines. I thought I was being smart
and walked all the way down to the last line, which did happen to be the
shortest. However, it was also a line for a single unit, and it turned out that
many of the other lines were for multiple units. After 20 minutes or so in
line, with more than 10 people still in front of me and less than 10 minutes
until the race start, I abandoned the line and ran back over to bag check. I
checked my bag and headed back toward the end of the race lineup.
The race started before I even got lined up, which I have
learned is not uncommon with a big race. I still went as far back as I could,
since I am a slow runner, but it only took about 10 minutes to get to the start
line. I had expected it to take longer. I carried my camera with me, thinking I
would try to take pictures along the way, but I did not really use it. I did
not have a waist pack, so I was running with the strap around my wrist and the
camera in my hand. I also had a water
bottle in my other hand. I do not recommend running this way.
There was a great Taiko drum group between the Mall and the
14th Street Bridge that I absolutely loved. As a slower runner, it takes longer
to get into a groove, and I had not yet reached even the 1-mile mark, so the
whole race stretched out like an eternity in front of me. The drums really
helped push me along.
The 14th Street Bridge was icy. I was mostly alternating 4
minutes of running with 1 minute of walking, but I had to stop and walk quite a
bit on the bridge or risk falling. I have no idea how the frontrunners managed.
The bridge was also where I decided I needed to take off my sweatshirt. The
cold weather was quite unexpected, so I had scrambled at the last minute to
figure out what to wear that I could discard. Taking off the sweatshirt was
challenging, and it took me several run-walk cycles to get the job done, since
I had to unpin and repin my bib, etc. I decided not to discard the sweatshirt,
as I had not yet seen much in the way of discarded clothing, so it felt like
littering to me. I just tied it around my waist. Once we were back on level
ground, we were rewarded with the first water stop. I only took water because I’d
never trained with Gatorade, and the flavor that was available was not a
favorite (lemon-lime).
The Crystal City part of the course was familiar to me
because I’d run it during the 9-11 Memorial 5K. It was during this stretch that
I saw a runner with a prosthesis. I thought , “if he can do this, so can I.” A
short while later, I saw a runner with 2 prostheses. Seeing those guys and all
of the active duty Marines along the course was very humbling and inspiring.
As we made our way out of Crystal City, there was a line of
school buses between us and traffic on 395. Knowing that I am slow, I panicked
a bit, thinking they were straggler buses. But then I realized that they were
there to block off traffic. It would have been nice if the buses had been
turned off instead of idling. It was not fun to breathe in that exhaust.
Along Route 110, I got hungry…so very hungry. At the second
water stop, I went straight for the Gatorade because I figured I needed
calories. Let me tell you, nothing has ever hit the spot the way that Gatorade
did at that moment.
When I finally saw the 6-mile mark, I was ready to be done.
I kept looking for the hill because I knew that there was supposed to be a hill
at the end. I knew I was close when I could hear the announcer. I don’t
remember much about the hill, but I know I walked toward the end of the climb.
I was a bit disoriented and wondering if this would ever end. After a long
straightaway on 110, you make a left to go up the hill and then you have to
make a right to get to the finish line. It was also suddenly crowded with
spectators. So as I was getting to the top of the hill, a Marine leaned forward
or stepped forward, I’m not sure which, but it felt like he was right in my
face, he pointed at the finish line and said, “you can do it, ma’am; the finish
line is right over there.” I think that was my favorite part of the race.
