I have run more than a few marathons with a camera or phone in hand, snapping photos and taking video, and I have always enjoyed viewing that footage later. More often, though, I take in the sights, sounds, and smells, and try to burn them into my brain. This has usually served me well, for even the ones that were most visually pleasing (Missoula and Park City come to mind) have an unforgettable place in my memory despite having no photos.
But if there was ever a time where I had wished I brought my camera, it was Sunday in Oklahoma City. Not since Boston have I run a marathon in which every twist and turn, through every neighborhood both urban and suburban had sights to see, people cheering, parties happening on the sidelines, and a general spirit of the whole city coming out for race day. And while the reason for the occasion is the sad remembrance of one of America's greatest modern tragedies (the domestic terrorism of the bombing of the Murrah federal building in 1995); the celebration of unity, survivorship, and city pride is anything but somber.
It is not a cheap race to enter ($186.43 when I registered on March 31), but every penny felt well spent from the minute I showed up at the Convention Center on Saturday to pick up my bib. I can not overstate how well-organized and well-executed every bit of this race was - from the ease of pickup, to the interesting and useful booths at the expo, to the corralling of 14,470 people to the starting line.
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| At the race expo on April 27 |
Plus, this event had an incredibly comprehensive smartphone app that featured every bit of information any runner, spectator, or friends and family from afar could possibly need. My parents even put the tracking map on their TV and watched my little dot progress across the course from the comfort of their home in New York. For those who prefer good old-fashioned paper, a fold-out map with all the information was distributed to everyone, too.
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| The starting corrals |
So, from the moment I started the race at the memorial where the Murrah building once stood, never once did I worry that I would miss a turn or that Gloria would not be able to get to me if something went wrong. Off we went, through the lovely downtown that included the basketball arena and a minor league baseball park. I am sad I did not notice passing by Flaming Lips Alley, though!
The first two-thirds of this race included no straightaways that lasted more than a mile. That meant that with turn after turn after turn (something that would have normally frustrated me), there was something new to see and hear.
The goal was to keep it comfortable but measured, and with the huge field of runners, there was not much wiggle room anyway. I corralled myself with the 8:30 pace folks and that was where I would need to stay until things opened up, so an 8:40 first mile was pretty much on target.
We crossed I-235 at Mile 2 (8:23) and spent a mile running toward the Capitol Building from the south, turning away from it (Mile 3, 8:23), then back toward it from the east, underneath its plaza (Mile 4, 8:20) and back over I-235 (Mile 5, 8:10).
My better side, Mile 2
Now in a residential area, I started thinking about how it reminded me of the Boston suburbs as people cheered from their porches and driveways, with music playing (some playing radio or playlists on loudspeakers, some live DJing, some playing live instruments). More turns through the neighborhood led us to Edgemere Park and I was reminded of Baton Rouge, where we looped around a park with beautiful houses and even more residents showing up to give runners some love (Mile 6, 8:27).
But nothing, except maybe New York City, compared to Gorilla Hill. These folks on Shartel Avenue came out to play, bringing the good times onto the streets like it was an old-fashioned block party. Music was blasting, the crowds lined the street as we ran the steady incline toward a giant inflatable gorilla at the apex. Many folks were dressed in banana costumes. Several were giving out food and drinks (and I'm talking about mimosas!).
But wow, it got tight on that narrow roadway (Mile 7, 8:41), so when the half-marathoners split off to head back south to the finish and we continued north it was literally a breath of fresh air - the stench of the body odor of thousands of runners packed so tightly was starting to get to me.
It also got quiet as we crossed I-44 (Mile 8, 8:11). So much so, that I remarked to a nearby runner that while we may be the better athletes, the half-marathoners are the better partiers. He was not amused.
We made a few more turns (Mile 9, 8:30) before heading north (Mile 10, 8:32) and west (Mile 11, 8:40) into the Nichols Hills neighborhood, with big houses and bigger mansions, especially on Nichols Road (Mile 12, 8:34).
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| That's me way back there in the green shirt around Mile 12 |
The turn onto Britton Road into The Village section of town brought more love and support from the locals and from race volunteers (Mile 13, 8:24) as I hit the halfway point at around 1 hour and 51 minutes. That left me an 18-minute cushion to finish under four hours.
I had been hitting the mark beautifully as I continued through that neighborhood (Mile 14, 8:32), but as I got into the Lakehurst section (Mile 15, 8:41), and past Hefner Park (Mile 16, 8:45), my splits started getting slower and my legs started getting heavy. I was working harder and getting less for it. Time to readjust my goals and use that cushion. New goal - nine minute miles. Hey, I have nothing to prove anymore.
There was one neighborhood that had a Jurassic Park theme, with one guy dressed as John Hammond and others in dinosaur costumes, but I do not remember where because my brain started checking out along with my legs by then.
What I do remember was that even though there were 10 miles to go, I was crapping out and I told Gloria so where she met me somewhere around Mile 17 (8:53)...or was it Mile 18 (9:01)? I also remember that for the first time the entire race, I was on one road (Grand Avenue) for more than two miles (Mile 19, 8:59; Mile 20, 9:18), only to get onto one other road (Classen Boulevard) for another three miles. Worse, this whole area was about two or three miles of long, slow incline - murder on my already wrecked quadriceps.
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| Starting to crap out at Mile 18 |
The 21st mile (9:44) had a nice pick-me-up where a spin class was being held outside so all the stationary bike riders and other folks could cheer the runners. For such a small group, they were loud and encouraging and amazing. It did a lot (briefly) for my spirits, but not so much for my split times.
As I passed by photographers and DJs and musicians, I put on the happy face and tried to look upbeat, but inside I was dying a slow death into miles 22 (10:20) and 23 (10:19). But I was also doing a lot of math and had determined that I could do well over 11 minutes per mile in the final 5K and still make it under four hours. It did not quite feel like a lock anymore, but it felt doable.
The turn into the Mesta Park neighborhood was another genuine feel-good moment - going under a balloon arch and suddenly being in Super Mario World with many of the residents dressed as the game characters (Mile 24, 10:14) and another big block party.
Out of that section and with downtown in view, it was finally almost over. I remember there a small hill that felt like a mountain and a downhill that felt like it was crushing my calves to bits, but I have no idea where exactly they were. And with a 10:12 for Mile 25, I was happy to know that even a 15-minute mile would get me to a sub-4 finish.
I made a final push to Mile 26 (9:55), heading into Scissortail Park for the final two-tenths of a mile, where a row of photos showed all the people that perished on April 19, 1995 - a solemn reminder of the reason we were running this race.
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| The sidelines of the final stretch had photos of those who died in the Oklahoma City bombing |
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| Across the street in the green shirt, I am making my final push to the finish |
My official finish time was 3:55:40. I was hurting and tired, and had a lot to think about regarding my goals for future races. But for the moment, I was satisfied with my result and could check off a 26th state in which I ran a sub-four-hour marathon.
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| There is nothing better than being greeted at the finish line by my wonderful wife |
All photos by Gloria Galioto
