WHITE ROCK 2008 - A LESSON IN THE AWESOME POWER OF MARATHON

It was supposed to be warm and windy.

But I wasn't prepared for what the 2008 White Rock Marathon had in store for me this year. The wind was blowing 30 mph out of the southwest, it was 70 degrees at race time and very humid (very humid for a guy who trains in Abilene).

I trained for 18 weeks at a 3:20:00 pace, and the only run I didn't make time was caused by a very stiff south wind.

I was supposed to run about a minute off my pace until the seven mile mark, then catch up to my pace at 12 and run the rest of the race at my pace or faster. That's how I'd trained...that's what I was expecting.

What I wasn't expecting was what the humidity/heat would do to my heart rate. At the first mile...the first mile...I was 50 seconds slow and my heart rate was way too high.

I had to shed my shirt in the third mile and poured at least two cups of cold water on my head at every water station for the duration of the race.

By the 11th mile I was two minutes off pace and about to turn south into that horrible wind. So I did something I would have never even imagined I would do one year ago - I turned my stopwatch off.

I switched my watch to just show my heart rate and monitored it the rest of the way. I tried to just run and enjoy the ride. A lesson I learned from my good friend Gregg Fuhrman - who was just about 90 seconds behind me at the time.

It was 3:20:00 or bust last year, and I sure did bust. But I ran a much smarter race this year and decided I didn't care how fast I finished...just that I finished.

And the beast they call Marathon taught me another lesson. One can never say "I will run a ____ time in the marathon today." You have to say "I've trained at a ___ pace, and will run whatever time Marathon wishes me to run today."

I was reminded what a physically daunting task Marathon is today and was proud that I finished.

Frank Shorter (the last American man to win the Olympic Marathon) covered the race for WFAA in Dallas. He said the conditions today could be compared to running at altitude...like going to Colorado and running when you haven't been training there.

I haven't run in 70 degree weather since August and have only run in that kind of wind a few times over the last three years.

I ran past the point which I "bonked" last year (little after 20 miles) and was in a lot of pain. My heart rate had hovered around my anaerobic threshold since the first mile and it was taking its toll on my muscles and lungs.

I took a few "test" steps at a walk and immediately broke back into a jog just to make sure I could still run - last year at around 21 miles I stopped to walk and was never able to run again that day.

After I had determined that I could, in fact, walk then run, I decided to slow it up and walk to try and get rid of the horribly painful side stitch that sunk its gnarly teeth into my lungs just under the right side of my ribcage.

A slender man in his thirties came up behind me, and we talked and walked for a few minutes. He told me that he was trying to run a 3:15:00 today but the wind around the lake had sapped all his energy. This is a guy that ran track in college and has run a sub-3 hour marathon before.

He made me feel a lot better, and after a few hundred yards he broke off into a run wishing me good luck in the process.

About thirty seconds later, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked back to see Gregg had caught up to me and wasn't prepared to pass me. We could think of no better ending to the day than crossing the finish line together.

We walked together for a few minutes, picked up to a run and jogged the rest of the way in...barely breaking 4 hours.

Both of our personal bests are around the 3.5 hour mark. It was a rough day for both of us physically, but mentally it couldn't have ended better.

My legs began feeling fatigued early on...something that has never happened to me while training. Very frustrating but just speaks to the awesome power of Marathon.

On a tragic note, a few minutes after Gregg and I met back up around the 23 mile mark, we passed a horrifying scene. A young woman was receiving CPR on the curb. She had apparently stopped breathing and we could hear a man counting out loud while he administered chest compressions.

Tonight I found out that the woman, 29, was a participant in the race and died right there on the curb.

I thought I was going to throw up when I took the scene in, and it took everything in my power to keep running as bad, physically, as I felt.

My heart and prayers go out to the woman's family and all involved in that tragedy. That scene will haunt me forever.

Here are some things I remember from the race...

A young woman was running a few yards in front of me in a residential street and clipped the side view mirror of a car with her hip causing her to crash to the ground. I was going to stop and help, but two other runners ran to her aid...I tried reaching for a water bottle a young girl was holding out but at the last second she brought the cup back into her body not knowing I was grabbing for it. I missed and knocked the cup all over her neck and shoulder. I felt terrible...I passed a guy with a wig and an inhaler in his headband...A sweet old man held out an orange slice for me, but he dropped it before I could make contact. It dropped to the pavement and I ran on as he tried to pick it up and hand it to me...Two young men in speedos and running shoes were running in front of me for a few minutes at the beginning of the race, gross...At around the 20 mile mark I felt something warm running down my leg. I thought it was blood at first, but when I looked down I didn't see anything. I don't know what it was. That kind of freaked me out...I passed the 3:30:00 pace group at five miles. They caught me at 15. I tried to stay with them, but couldn't keep up...At the very beginning of the race, I noticed a man with gel packs in the back pockets of his shorts that were not secured and bouncing around. A few steps later, everyone one of the packs had fallen out. Poor guy...I didn't make small talk with anyone this year, something I've done the last two years. Saving my energy...My quads felt like someone was hitting them with a sledge hammer with every step at around the 21 mile mark. After I walked for a few minutes and started running with Gregg, they suprisingly felt much better...I had no other pain at all, not foot, not knee, no pain...I cried when I crossed the finish line. That kind of physical mountain of a task makes you lose control of your emotions...I showed my marathon tattoo at a couple of the picture stations along the way...I never did see the woman who helped me last year when I collapsed. I looked for her diligently...People normally yell your name out as encouragement and no one was calling my name. Towards the end of the race I noticed my race number had blown up and the back was showing. No one could read my name...There was one sign that said "If you can read this, you're in front of my husband." I thought that was funny...I saw a guy walking three beagles. It made me smile. A few minutes later, I saw two more beagles...I saw a little girl holding a cup of water on the curb. Her large dog nosed at the cup and it spilled all over her. Her dad laughed. So did I...When I switched my watch from displaying the time to just displaying my heart rate, I looked across the lake and smiled...The shore of the lake looked like the ocean. The waves were turning over and crashing onto shore...I smelled a cigarette when I ran through one of the aid stations. That made me mad...I was also mad when I saw some little kids holding out a box of Starburst. You get irritated easily at around the 22 mile mark...I turned the final six miles into two mile sections. I'd say to myself, "just two more measley miles"...From the 15 mile mark when the 3:30:00 pace group passed me until Gregg found me at 23, I anxiously looked back at every approaching footstep hoping to see him so we could run together...I saw a golf cart carrying a runner late in the race. I wanted to hope on and ride in. I was in a lot of pain...

What I learned today was that you can't control the elements on race day. You just have to go with what is given to you. If you finish at your goal? Great. If not? You'll live to race another day.

Last year I was devastated that I didn't finish at my goal (I didn't finish period). This year I finished forty minutes off pace and couldn't have scripted a better ending to the 18 weeks of training...finishing with my friend Gregg.

It was the perfect ending to a warm and windy day.

And I can't wait for my next racing adventure! Thanks for taking the time to read...