I raced and finished the L.A. Marathon this past Sunday. My first marathon, ever.
Can you believe that? I still can’t. But I did that.
Too many waves of emotion for this emotional woman. I woke up at 3:15 in the morning with minor abdominal pain, which freaked me out like my nightmare from several nights before. This pain’s been coming and going often since graduating from college, and I personally attribute it to my constant stress. I told myself Not today, Satan and calmly made myself my traditional long run breakfast: oatmeal with bananas, honey, and a spoonful of almond butter.
My brother, dad, and I arrived to Dodgers Stadium, the starting point, at 5:00. I rested in the car with them for a while until my bladder was about to explode and I really had to get out. When I parted with my family and headed toward the stadium, I imagined this was probably what Katniss Everdeen felt when she parted with her little sister for the Hunger Games, scared and all. The only difference was that I knew I would come out of this challenge alive and safe.
My anxiety exacerbated as I observed my surroundings at the stadium: People in large groups stretching together, people looking like they already ran 10 other marathons with their defined calf muscles and biceps, people covering themselves with disposable thermal blankets as they curled up against the wall for warmth, way too many people in one place. Needless to say, being surrounded by all the super-athletic prowess intimidated me. I almost forgot to mention I took way too long to find an accessible restroom. (Good news: I found it in time.)
I met up with my brother and dad just before the race started. I’m glad I did because being with them calmed me down. I jumped into the open corral with the rest of the 20,000+ runners eager to start. The crowd started moving forward, and the next thing I knew, I went from walking to jogging. The adrenaline kicked in.
For once, I let go of all my nerves and let myself be in the present with everyone else. For once, I kept up that mentality all the way through. Unlike all my other runs during training, I quickly recognized and shut down any burdensome, worrisome thoughts. I don’t recall thinking hard about anything, if at all. A lot of the times they were short bursts of positive reminders like this:
Erika! Look around you!
Look at all the people cheering for you and feeding you water and Gatorade and orange slices!
I didn’t care for orange slices before but now I love orange slices!!!
Let the love flow through you!
And don’t forget the electrolytes so you don’t cramp later!
Wow I love water. Mmm. Water really is life.
Did you feel that breeze? Thank you, breeze!
As a lifelong SoCal resident who has visited a good amount of the landmarks along the course, I enjoyed the scenery. It allowed me to reminisce fond memories associated with those places. Little Tokyo (aka my favorite hang-out spot), where I carbo-loaded on ramen and fried rice at Daikokuya two nights before the race; Silverlake, where I celebrated a birthday brunch for a dear friend; Pantages Theater, where I saw Wicked with my mom when I was 13; TCL Chinese Theater, where I’ve taken many of my family and friends visiting from Japan… and so on. It brought a smile to my face.
Weird thing is, I ran a lot faster than usual. By the time I reached mile 13, I felt confident to finish my race in a timely manner. Another one of my biggest fears for race day: not finishing by the 6 hour 30 minute mark set by the race officials. Even weirder, aside from pain in my small toenail and a dull lower back ache, I felt totally okay. I must have nourished myself well and ran at a good pace.
There were many times within the last 10 miles when I planned to walk after a song ended. Then a new song started and got my energy up, so I continued my stride.
I fought myself mentally for the three miles before the left turn on Ocean Avenue. It doesn’t help that I’m nearsighted and the last several miles seemed like there would be no end in sight. Though, actually, a dense fog crept up along the shores of Santa Monica so I really couldn’t see far away. Hah.
The final stretch on Ocean Avenue was surreal. I don’t know how else to describe it.
Of course I was ecstatic to make it to the end. By the last 100 meters, with spectators lined up along the finish line, I gave it my all and pumped my arms and carried my legs in a sprint. As strange at it seems, when I crossed the finish line in Santa Monica, I couldn’t help but think, Wait, that’s it? How did I end up here?
But I did that. And so did the tens of thousands of runners around me. All the blood, sweat, and tears from training paid off. I proved to myself that I can do anything with a full and intentional heart into it. While I was the only one being harsh and doubtful on myself for skipping a run or workout during training, my family and friends always believed in me. I can’t imagine a more steadfast love than that.
After the race and all throughout today, I’ve been resting my mind and my body. I went to a spa near my house today. When I gave my thighs a little squeeze after a relaxing bath, I thought to myself Wow, my muscles are f-cking strong. My thighs, my calves, my feet, my arms, my lungs, my whole body, my mind, my spirit carried me all the way. Thank you muscles and blood vessels for doing your thing. For keeping me alive and healthy.
It’s getting late and I need sleep (almost 2 AM). You bet I’ll sign up for another marathon 😉 Good night.