I’m running a marathon today. That's the first thought when I open my eyes at 4:30am. Truth be told, it’s the fifth time I’ve woken up tonight. I just can’t seem to stay asleep. Probably has a lot to do with the time change and the new country and the lack of sleep in general.
I didn’t know Greece did daylight savings time change. So on the positive side, I get an extra hour. On the negative side, I spend that hour wide awake, scared I'm going to sleep through my alarm and miss this race I have been waiting for over a year to run. I had set a wake-up call for 5a, and at 4a the automated hotel system called me to wake me up. I call down to the front desk to ask what time it is. They say it’s 5a. I ask, 5a? Really? They think for a moment and say, No madam. It’s 4a. Okay. So back to the bed I go. At 4:30, still awake, I get out of bed and decide to get ready to go. I hop into the shower to wake myself up and start getting dressed. At 5:02a the phone rings with the hotel system telling me it’s time to wake up. Again. I laugh and put my shoes on.
I head down to breakfast and smile as I see everyone in their bleary-eyed excitement. People have on their numbers and all their cold-weather gear. I meet up with Joel and Mary and Dawn, who have plates of food in front of them. I don’t play that though. This is the one meal I reserve myself and don’t partake of the yogurt. It breaks my heart a little, but today is not the day to be sidelined with tummy troubles. I have some bread and some coffee and I’m good to go. We all climb into the shuttle bus that will take us to the starting line. There is laughter and talking and excitement about the day. We take pictures and watch the city start to wake up.
The race starts in Marathon and there is really only one good road to get there from Athens. We drive on the opposite side of the street where we will be running and laugh to watch the numbers get lower as we get closer to the starting line. We hit a small patch of traffic when we get into Marathon and I can start to see runners climbing out of buses and stretching and warming up. Runners get so impatient. Maybe it's just the knowledge that we can walk anywhere, so why wait for traffic. But I have always felt very content sitting on the bus, even in stopped traffic, because I know that for the next 5+ hours I will be running around.
The bus drops us off and I start taking pictures of everything that interests me. I know from experience that if I see something I need to snap it at that moment. It won’t happen again and I am not going to feel bad for taking the extra 30 to get a neat picture. Probably one of the big reasons my time doesn't get better all the time.
There are men peeing on the side of the road in the orchard, but I don’t take pictures of that. If I had a dollar for every time I’ve seen someone pee on the side of road I would be a millionaire twice over. Joel and I head to the starting line and hit a wall of foot traffic. Everyone is pushing and pulling and trying to get to their start position. Luckily Joel has a good attitude about everything and she keeps me smiling. It takes about 20 minutes to walk through everyone, but we get there. Once we get into our starting choral I look over to my left and see a flame. It’s the MARATHON FLAME! I tell Joel we’re going to go take a picture.
We climb up the steps, take a picture with the flame and I look out over the thousands of people who are there to run. Literally thousands of people. All different countries (we count 7 just from the people around us wiaitng to start) and all different goals in their mind. Everyone just wants to finish. We hear the starting flare and the first wave goes. And twenty minutes later we're crossing the starting line and I head out in a smooth jog. I’m ready.
The course is really hilly. Most of it is uphill and no one is happy about that, although we all were prepared. I notice five people dressed as Spartans, in full regalia, and I applaud their tenacity. It’s hot out here! People stand and watch us by. They all shout “Bravo” and cheer us on, waving olive branches and flowers. I gather olive branches as I run, putting one in my belt, one in my hat and carry one with me. I am smiling and truly enjoying the day. It’s a clear sky, no wind and the sun shines down like it’s almost smiling. I have a great pace going, probably too fast for the hills, but I’m feeling really good. I take pictures of the interesting things I see and the funny things. I listen to my iPod and say my prayers for the people I’m thinking about. It’s in kilometers, so everyone gets two kilometers instead of 1 mile. It’s fun to keep doing the math in my head and it keeps me distracted.
And sooner than I think, we are at 39k, the kilometer I’ve devoted to my father. And like a comforting sign from above, his song pops up from the shuffling iPod. Tears come to my eyes as I give a kiss to the sky, think about what I’ve just put behind me and what I am running towards. In the past 5.5 hours I have forgiven friends, forgiven past lovers, forgiven myself and worked through the frustration of my job. I’ve given thanks to where I’ve been, thanks to the people in my life and thanks to the many blessings I have in my life. I know exactly where I am in the world and I am more present than I have been in a really long time.
I hear the crowd get louder as I approach the stadium. The stadium where the 1896 Olympics finished. Where the 2004 Olympics finished. Where thousands of people before me have crossed and cried and triumphed. I feel the energy of everyone as I step onto the stadium track and finish the .2 of the race. It is over whelming. It’s amazing. It’s powerful and it is by far the coolest thing I have ever done. I feel a sort of elation I have never felt before. It’s mind blowing.
I walk to get my medal and my bag of food goodies. I join the other Marathon Tour runners in the stands and let the awesomeness of what just happened wash over me. I did it.
And now I need a nap.
