The Dakar Marathon - Running the Race
8:00 AM - I've got my headphones in, listening to my pastor John MacArthur, as I've done an all my runs since beginning marathon training. Let's do this!
8:34 AM - The swelling in my ankle that had worried me the night before has been silenced by the steady stream of narcotics I've taken over the past few days. I'm feeling strong and am making good time. I can't believe I'm doing this! A flood of emotions fills my soul as I consider that all those weeks of training led me to this very moment, here and now, and I'm ready.
9:02 AM - I pass the 10k marker and although I don't find out until after the race, my pace is just under 11 minutes/mile. I pass the first refreshment station and grab a bottle of water. While the serious runners take a few sips and discard theirs, I decide to run with mine in my hand, as I know I'll need to take small sips more often to stay hydrated, and there won't be any wells or shops to stop at as I do on my training runs.
10:09 AM - I reach the halfway mark and later learn that I've been running an 11 minute mile up to this point. Although my calculations during the race are not exact, I think I may just finish this race far before my initial goal of 5 hours or less.
10:35 AM - My first call from my beloved comes in. Dan tells me he has searched high and low for the promised vans that are scheduled to shuttle friends and family to sites along the course to cheer on the runners. When he finally finds one, it's empty except for the driver who is inside sleeping! I resign myself to the fact that I won't be seeing any familiar faces with their words of encouragement. I have, however, passed a few groups of village dwellers who have left their huts to come see the show. The women in particular are intrigued by me, and a few cheer me on. As soon as they do, I launch into my own cheer for them all, "Women rock! We can run! We are strong! We are champs! Womeeeeeeen!" I'm like a lioness, roaring for them all to join me! They laugh, while the men stand by with bemused grins. Many surely must wonder if I'll make it to the end.
11:42 AM - I've now been running for nearly three hours and am approaching the 20 mile marker. The minimal walking has become more frequent. The slight soreness has become throbbing pain in my thighs and shins. The heat has become unbearable, diminished only slightly by the two stations where mist rains down from heaven like a gift from God, as well as by the hilarious pit stop where a friendly man squeezes a sponge of water on my head. By now, people are dropping like flies. Most the runners have converted to walkers, and I'm making every effort not to join them. As I pass up one group of fit, athletic young men after another, I call out to them, "You can do it!" ("Courage!" in French, to be precise, but I'm not sure how else to translate that expression).
12:18 PM - The finish line is now in sight. Unfortunately, it remains three miles away, and I have to loop around a huge stretch of the tollway to get there. I'm crying on and off from the pain and adrenaline, but I derive an odd sense of comfort from continuing to fit men who are worse off than me.
12:58 PM - I cross the finish line. At first, I can't see Dan, but then he emerges from among the throngs of people. He takes a couple pictures, then informs me that his wallet with $440 and both our driver's licences was just stolen (we live in a cash culture, where hardly anyone takes credit cards, so we often carry a lot of money on us). This was a somewhat anticlimactic end to my race, but I felt fantastic, and certainly couldn't have been any worse off than the poor guy behind me! :P
(Click here to read about my adventure getting my bib number the day before the race and here to read about the early morning leading up to the race).
9:02 AM - I pass the 10k marker and although I don't find out until after the race, my pace is just under 11 minutes/mile. I pass the first refreshment station and grab a bottle of water. While the serious runners take a few sips and discard theirs, I decide to run with mine in my hand, as I know I'll need to take small sips more often to stay hydrated, and there won't be any wells or shops to stop at as I do on my training runs.
10:09 AM - I reach the halfway mark and later learn that I've been running an 11 minute mile up to this point. Although my calculations during the race are not exact, I think I may just finish this race far before my initial goal of 5 hours or less.
10:35 AM - My first call from my beloved comes in. Dan tells me he has searched high and low for the promised vans that are scheduled to shuttle friends and family to sites along the course to cheer on the runners. When he finally finds one, it's empty except for the driver who is inside sleeping! I resign myself to the fact that I won't be seeing any familiar faces with their words of encouragement. I have, however, passed a few groups of village dwellers who have left their huts to come see the show. The women in particular are intrigued by me, and a few cheer me on. As soon as they do, I launch into my own cheer for them all, "Women rock! We can run! We are strong! We are champs! Womeeeeeeen!" I'm like a lioness, roaring for them all to join me! They laugh, while the men stand by with bemused grins. Many surely must wonder if I'll make it to the end.11:42 AM - I've now been running for nearly three hours and am approaching the 20 mile marker. The minimal walking has become more frequent. The slight soreness has become throbbing pain in my thighs and shins. The heat has become unbearable, diminished only slightly by the two stations where mist rains down from heaven like a gift from God, as well as by the hilarious pit stop where a friendly man squeezes a sponge of water on my head. By now, people are dropping like flies. Most the runners have converted to walkers, and I'm making every effort not to join them. As I pass up one group of fit, athletic young men after another, I call out to them, "You can do it!" ("Courage!" in French, to be precise, but I'm not sure how else to translate that expression).
12:58 PM - I cross the finish line. At first, I can't see Dan, but then he emerges from among the throngs of people. He takes a couple pictures, then informs me that his wallet with $440 and both our driver's licences was just stolen (we live in a cash culture, where hardly anyone takes credit cards, so we often carry a lot of money on us). This was a somewhat anticlimactic end to my race, but I felt fantastic, and certainly couldn't have been any worse off than the poor guy behind me! :P
(Click here to read about my adventure getting my bib number the day before the race and here to read about the early morning leading up to the race).
Great job Angie and a what a huge accomplishment! I assume Dan never recovered his wallet?
ReplyDeleteThanks, Jimmy! No, unfortunately, it's gone.
DeleteVery inspiring Angie considering the health and the cultural difficulties. You are inspiring me that God willing one day I could run a marathon too. God bless, protect you and be with you always. Soumaya
ReplyDeleteThanks, Soumaya! Go for it! The Chicago Marathon would certainly be a lot cooler and more pleasant than mine. If we're in Chicago in October (when, I believe, it's usually scheduled), I'd be happy to run the half marathon with you. I'm through with full marathons. It's something I wanted to do once in my lifetime, and now I'll be happy to stick with 13.1 miles. :) If you decide you want to run the Chicago Marathon, let me know and I may have friends I can hook you up with who are also running it. Blessings!
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