#rfrc

When we last left off, I had just seen the police cars and straggler buses. Read (or re-read) part 1 here.

RWD and I had planned a few places where he would try to meet me, and mile 10 was the next one. Moving slowly, I finally found RWD and his cowbell waiting patiently for me. I gave him this awesome photo opportunity. Thanks to him, you can all now see my belly.

Also, this pose looks remarkably like one I did around mile 17 in Chicago last year, so I guess it's marathon tradition now. There was definitely more belly this year, though.

I ran into RWD's arms, gave him a big hug, and didn't let go. I didn't care that he needed to leave to go get our team's pizzas so they could eat when they finished the race. Even though I knew it wouldn't help the problem, I wanted to curl up in a ball right there in front of the Lincoln Memorial.

"I saw the buses, and now I'm scared. I'm so tired. If I beat the bridge, I'm going to walk the last 6 miles."

Knowing I had been nervous about the race for several days, including waking up just before 2 am and reading all of the #runwiththemarines tweets from people who were also freaking out in the middle of the night, RWD knew he had to say just the right thing to me. He went with, "Then you have to keep going."

So I did.

Shortly after I left him, I started to play with my run/walk intervals. I switched to 2:00/1:30, then 1:30/2:00, and finally I settled for 0:20/1:00. I was desperate, and running for 20 seconds isn't that hard, especially with one minute in between. I had to keep moving, and if this was the only way...well okay.

One of my favorite parts of the race was the wear blue Mile, which is put on by an organization called wear blue: run to remember that honors the American military--the fallen, the fighting, and the families. On the wear blue Mile, the course is lined with photos of fallen soldiers, and later, volunteers hold flags representing a soldier. I feel horrible saying that I don't remember which mile this was, but what I can say is that I felt renewed as I ran/walked the wear blue Mile. What a privilege it is to honor these men and women; how could I do anything but keep going?

With my spirit renewed, I soon made it to the halfway point of the race. A spectator told me I was starting to tilt--never heard that one before--and reminded me to hydrate, so I started drinking much more water. Even with my small running intervals, I was keeping up with a group of other runners in my section of the race. Before I knew it, the sign for mile 14 was in the distance, and a group of boys (young men?) holding up a Notre Dame flag were screaming and cheering for me. (I was really glad I painted my name on my shirt in big white letters.) Feeling inspired and motivated, I ran more than 20 seconds for that interval and crossed into 14 mile territory.

The next few miles are unclear in my memory. The buses must not have been too close, because I am sure I turned around, but I don't remember seeing them again until around mile 17. I had been hanging pretty closely with a woman in an American flag skirt, and I turned around to see the buses. "Oh no," I said. "I know. We just have to keep moving," flag skirt lady told me.

For reference, here's where I was. I know what it looks like, as did the woman with a poster that had a printout of this section and said "JUST THE TIP!"

At the mile 18 sign, I stopped and asked a Marine if I'd be able to take to the sidewalk if the bus came to pass me. She wasn't sure, so instead, she told me there were only two miles to the bridge, and I could make it if I kept moving. (I was sensing a trend here...)

After the "tip," I could see the buses across the way meandering down toward mile 18. At water point 9, just after the 19 mile mark, the volunteers were folding up tables and preparing to go do something else. I watched a Marine dump out what was left of a gallon of water, and I slow-mo lunged at him, screaming "NOOOOOOOO!" like an action movie scene. Maybe it was nothing like that, but that's how I felt. Recognizing my distress, the Marine asked if I wanted some water, he broke out a brand new gallon, and topped off my water bottle. Phew. I was almost to the bridge, and the 0:20/1:00 intervals were working.  I wasn't going to make the bridge by 1:15 pm, but I was definitely going to beat the bus to the bridge. The spectators knew what was happening and were urging the runners, "You're almost there!" 

At last, I heard the drums urging the runners forward. I ran more than 20 seconds this time too. In fact, I ran all the way to a table of amazing people that I now know are members of the Red Felt Running Club [more on that later]. Some lady (saint) asked me "What do you need?" and I had my pick of Gatorade, pretzels, water, oranges, and more. I decided on oranges. 

"Did I make it? Did I beat the bridge? Am I safe??" I asked hysterically.