San Diego Rock 'n Roll Marathon - the day of the race.

3:30AM on the west coast, June 6th, I am up and out of bed, girding myself as if for battle. Sweat band, cycling cap, RFID timer and emergency information tag laced into my shoes, and, yes, compression socks all added to my armament. I remind myself that this is the anniversary of the day the Allies invaded "Fortress Europe" during World War II. My effort pales in comparison, but it is still my effort. And I feel a little, just a little, trepidation because I know I am not adequately trained. But, I am resolved to complete the distance, 26 miles and 385 yards.

We board the bus, which will take us to the start, at 4:30AM. Balboa Park is a surreal collection of klieg lights, UPS trucks, tables, tents, port-a-potties, and, of course, runners. There are 30,000 of us at the start. We fill the street for about a quarter of a mile behind the starting line. We are in groups, called corrals, based on our anticipated finish time.

The first group starts at 6:15. My group starts sometime between 6:30 and 6:45. We spend a long time "inching" toward the start before beginning our race. We start in what the locals call "June Gloom", what I would call "morning fog". The fog lasts until about 10AM and spares the slower runners, like me, much of the heat from the morning sun. I run with one of my team-mates for about 6.5 miles until her "trick knee" sidelines her for a short while. She ends up beating me to the finish, probably passing me at around mile 16, but I don't see her again until after the race. It's a long race.

Through much of the first 10 miles we run through Balboa Park (twice), downtown San Diego, and along the harbor. It is a lovely course with live bands every 2 miles or so. Very inspiring. After that is a 4-5 mile stretch of freeway which they have shut off to traffic for the race. I busy myself watching for the many Elvis impersonators who are running and enjoying the many people who have turned out to cheer us on.

About half-way through the race, I felt like I might need something other than the aide drinks to fuel my run. The easiest thing to take at a time like this is this stuff called Gu. Sure enough, that's what they are offering at the aide station just before mile 14 on the course. So, I grab a raspberry and a vanilla flavor packet. Now, for me, injesting this concoction is a real challenge. It is very thick and extremely sweet. Every time I try to swallow this substance, it immediately triggers my gag reflex. So, determined to get it down in order to fuel the rest of my run, I squeeze the entire contents into my mouth and ignore the impulse to immediately expell it long enough to down a full cup of water. It works and I am on my way again.

At 16 miles, I know I am finished. After that point in the race, I am only able to manage maybe a 100 yard trot at rare intervals, but I know I am walking most of the rest of the race. The bottoms of my feet are each covered with giant blisters. I have made the rookie mistake of dumping one cup of water over my head at each water stop early in the race in an effort to keep cool. The water has soaked my socks and is causing me to rub blisters into the bottom of both of my feet.

Mile 18 brought us to Mission Bay. The run around Mission Bay and Fiesta Island took forever. The discouraging thing is that you can look across the bay to the island and see a long line of "ants", runners who are a full 4 miles ahead of you on the course. I have the strongest urge to turn this into an aqua run (partial triathlon?) and swim across the bay to cut 4 miles out of the run. But, I just continue on dry land, putting one foot in front of the other. It is a long slog in what is now a full sun. Occasional cool breezes across the bay serve to slightly reduce my misery. The greater the misery, the sweeter the finish. I am determined to persevere! Live bands along this stretch of the course still inspire if only for a short while and the hundreds of volunteers and supporters are very much appreciated.

We finish at Sea World. I manage a half-hearted trot/shuffle and a heart-felt smile while crossing the finish line. My official time is 6 hours and 6 minutes. Not pretty, but I'll take the finish. I will do this again, but I hope to be better trained next time.

The race is billed as the San Diego Rock 'n Roll Marathon to benefit the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society and the purple shirted runners from Team in Training were everywhere you looked. 4,000 runners from chapters all over the country competed and together raised over $12,000,000 to find a cure for blood cancers. That is, afterall, what this is really all about.