Kiawah Island Marathon - Kiawah Island, SC

http://recreation.kiawahresort.com/marathon.html

The Course:

• Very flat - This is a fast course for qualifying purposes. However, even experienced marathoners were hurting after the race. The same muscle groups are stressed for 26.2 consistent miles. By the end I was praying for even a slight hill for some relief.
• Repetitive - The half-marathon course is run twice by the marathon crowd. The scenery is beautiful the first time through the course, but there is nothing new for the second half, when I really needed it.
• Weather - Usually the weather is quite warm in December in this area (I can say this having lived in Charleston, SC for four years). It was 72 degrees on my wedding day on 12/27/2003. For whatever reason, it was quite cold in 2000.

	I arrived at Kiawah at 5:30AM with my mother and my boyfriend (now husband) for my very first marathon!
	After the 5k began at 8:00AM, the marathon and half-marathon runners approached the starting line. I was feeling quite energized at this point. It was cold (mid-40s), but the excitement brushed this aside.
	Along the course I met Margaret, another first-time marathoner, from Boston. We ran approximately 23 miles of the race together. Here we are at mile 6, still feeling great. It was just beginning to rain.
	A water stop around the tenth mile. The rain was making it feel colder outside, but the runners still seemed to be in good shape.
	Margaret and I around mile 22, drenched from the chilly rain, and in a great deal of pain. Kiawah Island is the flattest course I have run to date, and the same sets of muscles took a beating. I will always remember the tearing pain in my hips and the numbness in my hands from the cold.
	After more than four and a half hours of running, I discovered hidden energy and sprinted to the finish. Upon crossing the finish line, I began to cry! The realization that you have just completed a marathon is emotionally overwhelming.
	Four seconds after finishing the race, I walked towards my space blanket and Gatorade.
	Here I am, happily nestled in my space blanket. The numbness in my hands and hips no longer bothers me. :-)
	So Margaret became my new long-distance running pal. Unbeknownst to us at the time, we will meet again in 2002 to run Grandma's Marathon together.

During the summer of 2000, I worked for the National Institutes of Health in Hamilton, Montana. One day the single television channel my TV received was broadcasting the Iron Man competition in Hawaii, and as I watched those amazing athletes, I figured that if the marathon was only one-third of their competition, I could certainly train for just that part of it. I purchased a copy of The Non-Runner's Marathon Trainer by: David Whitsett et al and immediately began reading with interest. The book outlines a recommended sixteen  week training program for those who were inconsistent runners or non-runners. Next, I needed to choose a race that would be held sixteen weeks later. In the book's index, I saw that the race to be held sixteen weeks from the day of my return to my home in South Carolina was none other than the Kiawah Island Marathon.

Training for such a race was an interesting experience. I had to discipline myself to extend my occasional three mile runs into distances of up to eighteen miles. I also discovered difficulties with tackling such a long distance. One day I was forced to run in a >90 degree temperature. My shirt started to feel damp, and when I looked down, it was covered in blood from a nasty nosebleed. I also began to experience the not-too-pleasant sensation that most marathoners can relate to - chafing. I quit wearing flip-flops and sandals because I was embarrassed by the appearance of my toes. Muscles I did not even know I had would ache in the mornings, and I wondered how I was ever going to survive a full sixteen weeks of this.

Then, there were fabulous aspects to the weeks leading up to the Kiawah Island Marathon. None of my friends had run more than seven or eight miles, so I would station various compadres around the University of South Carolina to join me for four or five miles of a long run or to hand water to me. We all had a great time! I also loved that my food cravings changed. I suddenly had to have apples with peanut butter, plain canned tuna on crackers, and orange smoothies. Best of all, I could eat as much as I wanted without guilt. My pulse in the morning was 52 beats per minute. I felt great, and while my muscles were fatigued, my mental energy was off the charts!

When I awoke on the morning of the race, I felt extremely anxious. It was colder than I had expected (40s) and rain was forecasted. My longest run had been eighteen miles, and I wondered how I was going to survive running eight miles farther than my longest workout. What if I had to use the bathroom? What if I felt sick? Realistically, I had wanted this experience, and I was not going to stop until I could check "marathon" off of my "Things to Do Before Dying" list.

The race was loooooooong. I suppose twenty-six miles without a car usually is, though. The first half of the race felt great. I met Margaret on the course, a girl from Boston finishing a masters who was also enduring her first marathon. Around mile 18 I really began to feel tired. Rain was falling. It was cold. The course was flat, and my hips were starting to feel irritated. After mile 20 I could no longer feel my hands and my hips were screaming at me to stop. I survived until mile 22, when Margaret and I decided we needed to walk for a few minutes. My high school cross country coach, Jack LeGrand, rode next to us on a bicycle for about a mile or two, cheering us along. My mother and boyfriend (now husband) met us periodically along the course to encourage us. My body did not wish to continue, but mentally I knew it was not a question - I had to finish.

When I saw the mile 26 marker, I rubbed my eyes to make sure it was really there. At that point, this wave of energy hit me, and I took off, sprinting the final 0.2 miles, and finishing below five hours (4:44:29). When I crossed the finish line, I began not to cry, but to bawl. I do not know what made me feel so emotional, but I could not stop crying. It was over, and I never had to do it again. "Marathon" was checked off of my list.

Of course, I did decide to do another one...once the pain is gone, the pride remains, and there is something so addictive about that 26.2 mile distance...

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