Being a goth marathon runner is A-OK

When I was a teenager, I used to secretly make fun of marathon runners (and always felt guilty about it afterwards). It should go without saying to never make fun of an entire group of people because first, it’s not nice; and second, you never know if you might become one. And here I am, just having completed my fourth marathon.

The Rock ‘n’ Roll Marathon Series always puts on fun races, and this was my third race with them. It usually starts and ends at the Seattle Center. The course changes every year, and there are bands playing every few miles or so. There are aid stations every couple of miles and tons of support from spectators along the way.

What’s it like running a marathon?

Folks have asked what is it like to do one of these marathons. While each race is different, it always feels the same from Mile 16 through the finish line. Usually I’m feeling great until then, but this year’s course was a tough one. (If this was your first marathon, I am sorry!) As we can see at Mile 11, that was quite a challenge.

• Starting line: Everyone is gathered at the starting line, happy to take on a 26.2 miler! (Or if they’re running a half-marathon, a 13.1-mile race.)
• Miles 1–10: This first part of the race is smooth sailing. If you’re not feeling fresh by the 10th mile, then you are in trouble. Mile 10 is also where the course goes up Queen Anne via 3rd Ave W, a hill that lasts for nearly 2 miles.
• Mile 11: The long, slow climb up the hill that never ends. It slows my pace down considerably, and I wonder if a new PR is even possible. My hamstrings feel slightly knotted as I huff up the hill without stopping, questioning my own sanity of why I do these races.
• Mile 12: The big reward for running up that long hill was the breathtaking (literally and figuratively!) panoramic city view at Kerry Park, where many iconic Seattle skyline photos are taken.
• Mile 13: This is where the course splits. Half-marathoners veer to the right towards the finish line. The marathoners go to the left to finish the rest of the course.
• Miles 14–15: The hill from Mile 11 is slowly starting to become a distant memory as I continue to focus on the rest of the course. The sun is out, and I’m soaring.
• Miles 16–19: This is where my mood descends, one mile at a time. We run around Green Lake, which is a beautiful area, but it’s at these miles where many folks lose steam.
• Mile 20: The second wave of hills begin, and while they are shorter, they’re steeper. My friends have come out to cheer me on, and it means a lot. I descend too fast down a steep hill, and my quads (the front thigh muscles) seize up with painful charlie horses that halt me dead in my tracks. I stop at a medical station, begging for ibuprofen. They don’t have it, because it’s bad for the kidneys. They give Bengay instead.
• Mile 21: There’s something about running past 20 miles that makes you retreat to the darkest corners of your psyche. Never mind the pain you’re pushing through. At this point, it’s hard to focus on much else outside the body. Everything hurts. My legs are very angry. They keep painfully spasming, and I actually have to stop for a couple of minutes to massage and stretch them out. I have never stopped during a race before. All of these hills must have slowed down my time by at least 10 minutes.
• Miles 22-25: Physically, I’m on auto-pilot. Emotionally, I feel very raw. I begin hallucinating shifting pastel colors while feeling every emotion there is. Every time at this point, I wonder why these races seemed like a good idea.
• Mile 26: My quads seize up again when I’m so close to the finish line. I resolve to be kind to myself and calmly massage my legs until they feel better. I sprint like a race horse and finish strong.
• Finish line: My mind sputters as the endorphin highs soar like a kite. A kind volunteer puts a finisher’s medal over my head.
• Post-race: Pictures are taken, and people enjoy a Pearl Jam tribute band called “Washed in Black” playing on the main stage. I slowly walk the mile back to my best friend’s house. I take a shower to clean up, and then we go to lunch to celebrate. He drops me off at home, where I soak in a bath with a Lush bath bomb dunked in, and then take an epic 5-hour nap. Later on, another friend treats me to a victory banana split from Cookie Counter. I’ve never had a banana split before, and it’s such a decadent treat to have after today’s race.

My finishing time is 4:18:54, my best time yet! This was a difficult course, so I’m surprised that I beat my old personal record even with all of those steep hills. I’m so, so happy with the result.

Euphoria is the biggest prize

This is also the first race where I did all of the workouts in the training program, and the first where I never got a single injury.

Running a marathon isn’t just a physical endeavor. It’s also a psychological one. You can be afraid all you want. You might encounter both internal and external resistance. Do it anyway. Something wonderful and interesting is waiting for you on the other side.

Another marathon is less than two months away. Right now, I’m appreciating a race well done.