My marathon at IMFL was 5hr 30min. Thats with a thirty minute negative split. I threw up every half mile for the first 6.5 miles. Oh, I didn't really stop running, just ran on the extreme right and let it go but it slowed me down trying to reconfigure my nutrition plan. I think I spent five or at most ten minutes waiting for or using a Porta-Let. I know my pace was consistently 11:15 all the way through because I looked at my Polar 625 all the time. I know I walked almost all the aid stations and very infrequently in between. Adding up all the aid stations and walking portions in between, I walked less than four miles of the marathon.
I have no clue what I thought about out there for five and one half hours. I have stunning visions of the course but not a single thought.
I remember at about 2 miles all the females leaders passed by on their sprints to the finish. I remember passing so many of my blogging buddies and how great they looked; determined
Jenny, a super fast Robo hammering out his first half, smiling, finger pointing
Kahuna,
Bolder with his head high and knees up in perfect running form,
Tri-daddy smiling and huffing it out very much looking like a man that learned to run in the Army (compliment),
Tri-mama a vision of supreme concentration. I remember throwing up a lot up till the first turnaround (6.5 miles). I remember it got dark fast. I remember the lights up to the finish shoot.
Then my memory kicks back in and I can recall all sorts of thoughts and conversations. My favorite is talking to Robo Stu and Kahuna at the transition exit and how awesome Robo's race was when Mistress walks up with a bottle of champagne and a stack of cups. We all could only take a sip without blenching.
Isn't strange that during such a long run, I should be able to remember one thought. Just one. I could guess I thought about breathing, being relaxed, counting footfalls, being excited to walk at an aid station, scolding myself for looking at my pace to much, where my friends were. Thoughts of would I be able to finish changing to I am going to finish.
Instead I am left with dead space. Every memory of my run is visual. I can still remember so clearly what my friends were wearing, especially Kahuna's sloppy grin and super big long sleeve gray shirt yelling, "Comm today you are an ironman!". Not a single thought of my own though.