Marathon Success Story

Marathon Success Story from Lyn Kelly...reprinted by permission:

I fully believe that the week prior to a marathon, those seven days while you wait and pray that you don’t fall victim to some ridiculous injury or random virus, can be more taxing and trying than training for a marathon (or even the marathon itself). It is pretty well known amongst the friends and families of marathoners that this is the week when we become rather "edgy". Moody might be a better term. Aloof, still another. As I left Luke’s Locker the previous Saturday to begin my "taper week" for the Community First Fox Cities Marathon, Suzanne St.Clair, after wishing me "Good Luck", said, "You’ll be fun to live with this week". I just smiled. Truth be told I’d become edgy around a week prior.

I had trained harder for this marathon than I had for any other. Taking a page from the book of Julie Brauer I had followed the Luke’s Locker schedule almost verbatim. I promised myself that I was going to break the 4:30 marathon barrier, but I was also running for a much more personal reason. One that I had kept to myself. One that I would write on the back of my pacer tag.

Saturday morning rolled around and I boarded a plane to Chicago O’Hare. From there I flew to Green Bay, Wisconsin. The drive from Green Bay to the Fox Cities area was around 30-minutes, enough time for me to get acquainted with Wisconsin and get nervous thinking about the race. The packet pick-up was very efficient and the people running the Expo were very nice. That is one of the reasons I so enjoy "smaller" marathons: the people are so sincere and personable. That afternoon I met with the leader of the Pace Group with which I would be running. His name was Gordy McDaniel. He’d paced every Green Bay Marathon, lived in the Fox Cities area and had paced the Fox Cities Marathon several times, and was an Ironman Triathelete. I felt I was in really good company.

After picking up some "Olive Garden" pasta (and some chocolate chip cookies from a local grocery store called "Woodman’s") I proceeded back to my hotel, the Holiday Inn in downtown Neenah, just a half-mile from the finish line. All week I had been receiving calls and emails from my Luke’s Team and Luke’s coaches wishing me well. Now I was receiving the same from family and co-workers. My wife had hidden a card in my duffel bag that I didn’t find until late afternoon so I set it on my desk, encouragement from her and my kids to further inspire me. Then the phone rang and it was no other than Julie Brauer, the woman whose training regiment I had followed for the duration of the season. She was calling to make sure I was "ready" and that all the "last minute" questions that sometimes plague us runners had been chased away. We talked around twenty minutes and I felt better. Then the phone rang again and it was Trisha Cavender (with Stacy Geigenmiller in the background) calling to wish me well. We had a very short, but funny, conversation and I hung up feeling that I had all the support in the world behind me. The last call of the night was to my wife. She wished me luck and then I put the phone away for the evening.

I think that is loneliest part of being a runner, the time between when you go to bed and when you start the race. That is when you try to sleep and wrestle with any and all insecurities that still might be plaguing you. You feel cut off from everyone because, after all, only you can run that race. As I lay in bed I recounted, out-loud, as I had done for several nights now, my race strategy. Start out with the 4:15 Pace Group. First Gel between miles 7 and 8. At Mile 14 pick up the pace if you feel okay. Second Gel between miles 14 and 15. Put your iPod on at mile 18 and pick up the pace. Third and final Gel between miles 20 and 21. If you start to feel sick, ignore it. You can be sick after you cross the finish line. Don’t leave anything on "the table". Somewhere around 10:30 I fell asleep.

However, nervousness does not lend itself to a good night’s sleep so I proceeded to wake up almost every hour, making sure I hadn’t overslept (despite the fact that I had set the alarm for 5:15 AM and had arranged for a wake-up call at 5:30 AM). Around 3:30 AM I woke up to find that the alarm clock had come unplugged. I plugged it back in, reset the time, reset the alarm, and then arranged for a second wake-up call (that is one alarm and two wake up calls). I woke up on my own at 5:00 AM and turned the alarm off and cancelled the wake-up calls. I prayed, showered, dressed, reviewed my plan and left for the shuttle. Leaving the hotel I was greeted by a crisp 54-degree Wisconsin morning.

The shuttle ride to the starting point was around 15-minutes long. Upon arrival I proceeded to the "Bag and Tag" where I had arranged to meet with George Bene, our very own Bobbie Mulholland’s brother. He is an elite runner who happened to be up in Green Bay on business and decided he’d go ahead and run the Fox Cities Marathon. I had a vague idea of what he looked like as I’d seen him in a picture with Bobbie from the Disney Half-Marathon (one of the best marathon pictures I’d ever seen by the way). Aside from that all I knew is that he was full of energy. He arrived on the scene as advertised, very outgoing and friendly. It was almost as if we’d known each other our whole lives. He asked me what my goal was today and I told him that I’d told everyone at Luke’s it was sub-4:30, but my primary goal was 4:15 or better. George’s goal? He said he’d just see how he felt. He wished me the best of luck and then I proceeded off to the restroom before finding the 4:15 pacing group. I remember how three days before I had been talking with Brent Wolfe and telling him how I wished I was at the starting line. He had said I would be there before I knew it. Well, I was there. Brent had been right.

The race began with The Call’s "Let the Day Begin" ringing through the Appleton, Wisconsin area. The sky was mostly overcast and the temperatures had not seemingly changed, a slight breeze lending a chill to the air on occasion. Everyone seemed to being doing well at the start with jokes of "the first .2 miles are always the toughest" and similar comments being heard. From the onset I was impressed with the crowd support. The Fox Cities area is made up of several small cities such as Appleton, Menasha, Neenah (which is pronounced Nee-nuh, but being a Texan I kept pronouncing it Nee-Nah like Hee-Haw) and Kimberly. Everywhere you went people were out there to greet you, sometimes in droves sometimes just a family or two, but they were there. Most runners had their names imprinted on their bibs so if the crowds could see the name they would call it out as you ran by them. Cheerleaders from the area schools were out in force, doing cheers for you as you went by, creating "tunnels" to run through, or doing the wave for individual runners. It was so encouraging that you couldn’t help but unconsciously speed up as you ran past. It was an exhilarating atmosphere from beginning to end. However, I think the first point where I felt that the race would be different was around mile 3 when another runner named Chris and I stopped for a restroom break. There was a line so after (patiently) navigating that, we had to speed up for almost a mile to catch our crew, averaging a sub-eight minute mile for the duration and I didn’t feel tired. I felt ecstatic.
Gordy was an excellent pacer. He’d run the Fox Cities area for several years and knew every curve, divot and pot hole and directed us accordingly. Another gentleman in our crew was Tom Jensen, a 66-year old runner who was a veteran of 50 or so marathons. I also met Vincent Uzzardo, or "Vinnie" as he introduced himself, a runner from Chicago who was running his first of three marathons in nine weeks. He had run a PR of 3:20, but was using this race as his final long distance run for Chicago. His reasoning? "What’s 6.2 more miles?" You have to love the attitude of marathoners!

We soon came across a girl limping along the course and my "Luke’s Coach" instinct took over. She had a 4:30 pace sign on her back, but it was obvious she had taken off on her own and (maybe) gone slightly faster than she should have. I asked her if she was okay and it turned out her knees were really bothering her. I had some ibuprofen so I offered it to her which she gratefully accepted. Again, I sprinted back to catch up with the group and still felt great. Chris joking said that I should now be referred to as the "Road Doc".

As we moved along Gordy, Tom, Vinnie and I were heading the 4:15 crew with the others behind us. At mile 9 we reached Riverside Park and it was Gordy’s turn for a quick restroom break and I was (somehow) "elected" to be the pacer until Gordy’s return. For a minute I was back at Luke’s and it was Saturday morning. Margaret McKinnon and I were leading the Yellow Crew out on a long run. Gordy quickly caught back up and I was released from "point". The weather was still cooperating and the miles felt great.

We reached our first hill at Mile 11 and Vinnie and I trudged up it. Gordy caught up with us and told us that we were going too fast and needed to slow down just a little. I’d never been told I was too fast with any pace group; that was another sign that maybe this race would be different from the others. But we still had 15 more miles to traverse and things could change quickly.
We crossed the halfway point and I told Gordy I was thinking, per my plan, about pulling away at Mile 14. He said it was my call, but he suggested that I wait until mile 20 and then take off. I decided that it might be wise to listen to a course veteran so I held off and continued with the group. Besides, I really enjoyed the company. The clouds were starting to clear away so I donned my University of Texas bandana (i.e. "do-rag") and a cheerleader encouraging the runners yelled out, "Go, bandana guy!". My second nickname of the day.

We reached Mile 18 at just under 3-hours, a small goal that I had established for this race. Gordy said that Vinnie, Tom and I should plan on speeding up at mile 20. We said okay, but didn’t want to just leave Gordy behind, especially since he had so expertly navigated the course for us. It seems though he had a subtle way to make sure we complied. As we approached Mile 20 he told us he was dropping back to check on the rest of our crew that was starting to dwindle. Telling us to "maintain our pace" and that he’d "be back later", he dropped back and we proceeded onward. It wasn’t until mile 22 that Vinnie noted Gordy hadn’t returned. "I think that was his way of getting us to speed up", Vinnie offered. From miles 20-23 we did sub nine minute paces and sometimes, sub-eight. Around mile 23 Tom said he was going to slow it down a little. He was trying to qualify for Boston, 4:15 at his age, and he didn’t want to do anything that might cause him to falter. So now it was Vinnie and I.

At Mile 24 Vinnie asked what my goal was for this race. I already knew that his goal was just to casually finish. After all, this was just a long training run for him. I told him that 4:32 was my PR, but I wanted to come in under 4:30. He looked at his watch and commented that I was going beat that goal by quite a bit. I said it was looking that way, but until I crossed the finish line I wouldn’t say that. Noting he was a 3:20 marathoner I told him that I didn’t want to slow him down and he was more than welcome to move on without me. He immediately said no. He wanted to watch me get a PR and encourage me along the way if I started to falter. I realize that running is often considered a solo sport, but sometimes you’ll find success with a team. Vinnie was my team. He was the reason I didn’t need my iPod to motivate me. As we continued along mile 24 I told him that I would like to reach mile 25 under four hours, another one of my smaller goals. He looked at his watch and then me. "That won’t be a problem." We reached mile 25 a few minutes under four hours, a bridge greeting us just on the horizon that made me inwardly groan because of its incline, but Vinnie and I again took it without slowing down.

Now we were less than a mile from crossing the finish line and my stomach was starting to feel funny. Maybe it is nerves or too much adrenaline or just my psyche, but whenever I get near the finish line of a marathon my stomach always begins to feel a little queasy, making my legs not feel as strong. This time, though, I had Vinnie pacing me. We ran by two ladies within .2 mile of each other telling us that the finish line was just around the corner. After the second one Vinnie joked, "That’s what the last lady said."

We crossed mile 26 and there was the finish line just ahead. Vinnie looked at me and said congratulations and offered his hand. I shook it hardily, a handshake that said "Thank you" better than I could then verbalize. In a moment that is etched in my mind we came upon a runner at mile 26.1, without a word we both pivoted, Vinnie to the right and me to the left, passed him and crossed the finish line. The time was 4:07:18. Later I would discover that my chip time was 4:06:12. I had beaten my PR by over 25 minutes.

Vinnie came over and again congratulated me. I then let him in on another reason I had trained so hard for this run, a reason I hadn’t told anyone directly. It was written on the back of my pacer tag. "I RUN IN MEMORY OF SUE KATE WEBB." She was my grandmother, one of the greatest women I have ever known and will ever know. She had passed away in March of Breast Cancer. When I crossed the finish line I had pointed Heaven-ward and thanked God and then thanked my grandmother. I began to choke up when I told Vinnie, but held it together. He wished me well and we shook hands one more time.

Suddenly I heard my name being called and there was George, waiting outside the finisher’s coral. He "high-fived" me and said, "I was expecting you around 4:30! What is this all about?" He made me feel like a "Rock Star", telling me how awesome my time was. I was humbled by this considering he had just run the marathon in a time of 2:52:33 (a 6:35/Mile pace). I thanked him for waiting around to see me finish and he smiled and said it was worth it.

Shortly thereafter Tom crossed at a mark of 4:11:03, a Boston Qualifier (again) at 66 years of age. I congratulated him. I waited around a few more minutes for Gordy to lead the rest of 4:15 crew across the finish line which he readily did at 4:13:59. I walked over and thanked him for helping me to achieve my goal. He is a great guy and the best pacer I’ve ever had the privilege to meet.

I spent a while longer meandering around the finish line, wanting to verify that my time was legit and not my imagination. I took the shuttle back to my hotel where my brother, Owen Kelly, and Trisha had already texted me to ask how I had done. I made calls to my wife and kids, mom, dad, friends, coaches, and runners to tell them how I did. I was ecstatic. Carolyn Bolsinger called me and simply asked, "How did you do?" She had jokingly (or maybe not) told me that if I didn’t break the 4:30 barrier she wouldn’t talk to me until next year. I told her that I didn’t break the 4:30 barrier; I broke the 4:15 barrier. She was very happy for me. I guess we’ll still be talking for the remainder of the year.

That night I had a pizza at a local establishment known as "Cranky Pat’s", but I was anything but "cranky". I was so happy, so thrilled. I still feel that way. At times like this I feel sad for those who have never experienced the thrill of finishing a marathon, that feeling of accomplishment. This is also when I remember why I run, why I enjoy it after all these years. Yes, there are times when I’d rather not train, when I’d rather not wake up so early to get in my run. But marathoning is not meant to be easy, and that is what makes it fun.