How Long is that Marathon?

from "The 53 Runner's Commandments" by Joe Kelly

1. Don’t be a whiner. Nobody likes a whiner -- not even other whiners.
2. Don’t compare yourself to other runners.
3. Remember that if it was easy, everybody would be a runner.
4. When standing in starting lines, remind yourself how fortunate you are to be there.
5. Talk like a runner. “Singlets” are worn on warm days. “Tank tops” are worn to the beach.
6. Don’t always run alone.
7. Don’t always run with people.
8. Remember that no matter how slow you run, you are still faster than someone sitting on a couch.
9. Keep in mind that the harder you run during training, the luckier you’ll get during racing.
10. Remember that races aren’t just for those who can run fast.
11. Think twice before agreeing to run with someone during a race.
12. Look at hills as opportunities to pass people.
13. Never throw away the instructions to your running watch.
14. Don’t try to outrun dogs.
15. Don’t wait for perfect weather. If you do, you won’t run very often.
16. Never run alongside very old or very young racers. They get all of the applause.
17. Go for broke, but be prepared to be broken.
18. Never tell a runner that he or she doesn’t look good in tights.

I did it!! Last Saturday, April 5, I became a triathlete when I completed the 2008 Red Hills Triathlon in 1:50:10. I'm extremely proud of my accomplishment, and I can't wait to do it again!!

My morning started at 5 am with flashes of lightning and booming thunder outside. I prayed and prayed throughout my drive to Maclay Gardens for God to hold off just a few hours on the storm that He had coming.

"It's my first one! Come on!! Please..." I reasoned with Him, ultimately realizing that my persuasive skills were lost on my Creator. I just had to trust that everything would work out the way it should. So I got out of my car, looked again at the still-dark but flashing sky and got my stuff together.

Walking my bike the half mile from my car to the transition/start area was a challenge. No -- it was just awful. I'm not graceful, and trying to balance all my gear on either my damp, sweaty person or my thin, tall, wobbly bike was hard for me. Plus, four marathons have taught me to always stay hydrated, so I was also carrying four bottles of Gatorade and water -- two of which I never ended up drinking anyway. All the while, I was trying to hold my flashlight steady, as it was not yet 6 am, and still dark. The lightning, though, help illuminate my path. Sounds safe, doesn't it? And then came the rain.

Miserable. Trying to keep my bike from falling on me, my wetsuit out of the mud and my flashlight pointing forward, I was now walking in the pouring rain. My only comfort and diversion was my friend, Hope, calling to check in on me.

"Oh!" we both exclaimed into our phones with each flash of lightning. We agreed that this could easily be the stupidest thing we'd ever done. But soon I was heading into the transition area, ready to get this thing started...in an hour and a half.

As I approached the volunteers who were marking numbers on the damp atheletes, Andrea's smiling face brought back my race-day excitement. Andrea and I have volunteered at this triathlon together for the past two years, and she and Hope were the first people with whom I shared my ambition to become a triathlete.

"Was it a whole year ago that we were here together?" I asked as she wrote "32" in permanent marker on my arms and legs.

"Yeah, girl! And look at you now!" I can always count on her for the encouragement I need. As she wrote my age on my right calf, I cautioned her that it might be difficult -- as muscular as my calves are and all.

As it turns out, Emma was #33, so we set up our transitions next to each other. My transition space ended up being in the middle of a little crack in the pavement, which by that time had turned into a raging river. Oh well -- everything else in my possession was wet anyway. I put down two plastic grocery bags and began setting out everything I would need for the race. The lightning continued.

We huddled together under the eaves of the restroom building, listening for any word from the race officials. Would they change it to a duathlon? Would they just eliminate the swim? Would they cancel the race altogether? All the while, I was praying that everything would go as planned.

At 7 am, they announced that we would indeed be swimming. Joy! Elation! I put on my wetsuit and headed down to the water to check out the position of the buoys marking the swim course. Despair. Panic.

Wow, they were far away and far apart. Much farther than at our practice swim the week before. For an hour I'd been praying for the swim to go on as planned. Now I was praying for a tsunami. Water spout. Anything that would prevent me having to do this swim.

"You looked so excited, but now you look like you're going to throw up," Cathy said as I returned to the transition. I told her about the gargantuan swim that was ahead of us. She said she'd look and promised to be honest with me. "Yeah, that's farther than last week," she said. "Well, I told you I'd be honest." My stomach dropped, but she convinced me that I would be okay. My prayers were answered, and I realized that I'd be lost this morning without the support of my friends.

The swim started and I was elbowing chicks left and right. It was hard -- swimming is my weakest event -- but I was doing fine. After I rounded the second buoy, I experienced a couple of Hitchcockian moments where the shore seemed to get farther away each time I look up. But I sucked it up (along with some lake water) and soon found myself out of the water.

Mom and Justin cheered me on as I ran (I think) into the transition and got on my bike. As I left Maclay Gardens, I had the first of three John sightings for the day -- he's my cycling mentor who taught me and Emma how to properly climb hills on the bike. And we needed it. Red Hills is known as one of Florida's toughest triathlons because of this bike course. But thanks to Cathy, John and Chuck, I had already conquered that beast two weeks before. I finished the bike in exactly the time I expected to -- with the bonus this time of being cheered by Michelle, Edwin and Dalisha along the way.

As I headed to the bike/run transition, I noticed that most bikes were back in already. No matter -- this was my first time and I was doing great. Then, a well-meaning (I hope) spectator called out, "Way to hang in there, 32!" Okay, let's stop here for a minute: don't ever say that to someone in a race. I know you are trying to be nice and supportive, but you might as well yell out, "You suck!" for the way it makes someone feel. Moving on.

The run. Finally I was comfortable and felt my advantage. No, I didn't run it as fast as other people did, and no, it wasn't my fastest 5K. But it sure was good to be back on the home field.

Making my way to the finish line, I saw John one more time, with Robin, who was snap-snapping away on her camera. I'll post her sure-to-be-amazing pictures when I get them (ROBIN). Then, I made the final turn and headed down the last hill toward the finish.

The crowd was quiet. Are you kidding? This was my first triathlon, people! You WILL cheer for me. So I commenced with Erin's Finish Line Spectacular (TM). Index fingers in the air, I told everyone within earshot that this was my "FIRST TRIATHLON! THIS IS MY FIRST TRIATHLON!!" Leaping and waving my fingers, I bounded across the finish line amid cheers from my friends, family, teammates and perfect strangers.

"Finishing her first triathlon, it's Erin Glover, of Tallahassee! Now that's how you do a finish line!" the announcer called out. That's right.

I spent the rest of the morning flashing my finisher's medal around, Wayne's World-style, even at Another Broken Egg later. It has spent the last week traveling around town with me, making cameos at work, meetings and wherever there is anyone who will tolerate me.

I did it. And I did it with the help of my training partners: Emma (1:43:02), Cathy (1:39:04) and Marguerite (1:52:26); my long-distance coach, Hope; my cycle coaches: John and Chuck; and my cheerleaders: Justin, mom, Robin and the 2008 Tallahassee TNT San Diego Marathon team. Thank you all -- I couldn't have done it by myself.

So, what's next? I've got my eye on the 2008 Freedom Springs Triathlon in Marianna on July 4. And I'll rock that one just like I did Red Hills! Woo hoo!!