By Barry Jones
The 25th running of the Marine Corp Marathon was held on Oct. 22nd, 2000. Brenda and I registered online for the race back in February. That is about as pre-registered as I have ever been. I had no idea how serious Marty Winkle was when he said, “Register early, it fills up fast.” As it turned out the race filled all 25,000 slots in just over 3 days. Everyone that I spoke with who had done the race said it was one of the best marathons around and we were lucky to get in. Suddenly I felt like a little kid holding two “golden tickets” to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.
This was going to be a low key, no pressure race for the two of us. Thanks to Brenda’s Mom and Dad, we had a five-day break from being the responsible parents of four great kids and a lazy dog. Since we were 800 miles away from home, we probably wouldn’t see anyone we knew, so no pressure. We had just finished our triathlon season the weekend before, and with the exception of two 20-mile runs, hadn’t really done any marathon training, so again, no pressure. We were just going to have fun and tour the Washington, DC area with a 25,000-member tour group. Well, anyone who knows me is familiar with the fact that nothing ever works out like I plan.
The night before the race, Brenda and I were picking up our race packets and touring the runner’s expo. Every running-thing that you could imagine was at this expo, from gels to shoes to heart rate monitors to T-shirts that said, “I meant to run the marathon”. We also ran into something I couldn’t have imagined; Steve, my old high school cross-country teammate. He was one of the many guys that used to kick my butt 21 years ago (I was a sprinter, not a distance man). Suddenly the “no pressure” race was starting to get pressurized. I tried to sneak questions into the conversation that would tip me off as to what kind of pace he was planning on running, but I was unsuccessful. It was to be a surprise.
Race morning had it’s usual spattering of “Jones luck” incidents. I was worried that, with 25,000 people, it would be very important to get to the start area early. So, naturally I was 20 minutes behind schedule dragging Brenda out of bed. Fortunately, our hotel had two shuttle vans operating on race morning. Unfortunately, the brilliant driver of one of the vans locked the keys inside. After waiting an extra 25 minutes, we piled 19 people into a 14-passenger van and set off for the Marine Corp’s Iwo Jima Monument, site of the start. Brenda sat on my lap.
My concerns were unfounded, however. We arrived at the start/finish area about an hour and a half before the 8:30 am start. There was plenty of time for us to walk around the “compound” and observe the sights and make the two mandatory porta potty visits. I was struck by just how many marines were working the race. This made for an intense atmosphere of order and discipline. For the 25,000 runners, there must have been at least 15,000 marines spread out along the course supporting the race. With so many marines involved in the marathon, I thought, “Who was watching the Country?” I brought up my concern to one of the marines who quickly assured me that, “The United States is safe, Sir, don’t you worry. Have a good race.”
We started lining up about 35 to 40 minutes before the start. I got positioned about 20 meters back from the starting line. Brenda was a bit farther back. As is typically the case in large races, there were many improperly seeded runners. There was a 250-pound man dressed like Uncle Sam, a court jester, and a pair of first time marathon women dressed in aerobics outfits, all lined up in front of me. When the race announcer said, “And now, I’d like to introduce one of the most famous runners in the country……Bill Rogers!”, one of my aerobics friends turned to the other and said, “I thought he was going to say Oprah Winfrey”.
The temperature was in the mid to upper 40’s at the start. Cool enough for me to leave my outer T-shirt on until the last possible second. Many of the people around me had the same plan. A few minutes before the start, there was a flurry of T-shirts flying off into the crowd. I tried to throw mine into an empty spot just beyond a marine holding an American flag. As “Jones luck” would dictate, just as I threw my T-shirt, the wind caught it. Although I missed the flag, I nailed the marine holding it. I quickly noticed that my shoelaces needed adjusting, so down I went. Some of the guys around me said, “Oh, you are a dead man”. Maybe that is why I ran like a scared rabbit for the first few miles.
The race director tried something different for this year’s start. Instead of having a 25,000-person “free for all” start, there were 3 wave starts separated by 8 minutes each. Brenda and I were in the first wave of 17,000 or so runners. We were followed 8 minutes later by 7,000 runners, who were followed 8 minutes later by another 4,000 runners. It worked; I didn’t feel crowded at all. In fact I was hoping that the crowd would force me to run a slower first half, but after 2 minutes I was able to run a sub 7-minute pace without stepping on any heels.
I ran the first few miles with the marine who has carried the American Flag in the M.C. Marathon for the past 10 years. When asked why he carries the flag he said, ”I don’t know, I started when I was young and dumb and now…well, I’m not young”. He still runs a 3-hour marathon carrying a 6-foot piece of PVC pipe with a 4-foot flag attached to it.
The marathon course is the most scenic I have ever run. I must have looked like a “small town yahoo” visiting the big city the way I looked with wonder at all the monuments and tall buildings. Cheering crowds lined the entire course, sometimes 5 deep in some areas. The course winds through Crystal City, Georgetown, The Mall and Haines Point while passing such sites as the Pentagon, Kennedy Center, the Washington Monument, the Capitol, the Smithsonian Museums and the Lincoln and Jefferson Monuments. About the only Washington site I didn’t see was Bill Clinton’s “pasty white” thighs.
As for my race performance… well, I started out good. I made it 10 or 11 miles at a sub 3-hour pace, but decided I was working too hard. I view the marathon as a 20-mile warm up followed by a 10K race, and I felt was rushing my warm up. In order to conserve energy for the last 10K, I eased back on the pace about 30 seconds per mile. That seemed to do the trick. Then, somewhere in the 15th mile things got ugly and I knew my race was over. The cramp monster sunk his gnarly teeth into my calf muscles and wouldn’t let go. Figuring in massage breaks, I was slowed to a 9-10 minute pace for miles 20 through 23. I kicked in the last 3 miles with a 10-12 minute pace. I must say, I was hobbling like a scared (wounded) rabbit those last few miles. Each time I stopped to massage my cramps I nervously searched the faces of the runners who passed me, hoping I wouldn’t see my high school cross-country buddy (or Brenda, for that matter). Towards the end I even thought I might see the 250-pound man dressed like Uncle Sam, the court jester, and the pair of first time marathon women dressed in aerobics outfits. I was able to hang on and finish in 3:34, about 16 minutes ahead of my buddy, who was just a few seconds ahead of Brenda. Still, nothing sucks more than having thousands of cheering spectators lining the streets with a half a mile left in the race and having to stop 3 times to massage your calf muscles. Look for me in the next Power Bar “Don’t bonk” commercial.
Note: Applications will be available for the 2001 Marine
Corps Marathon starting Jan. 15, 2001 But will Not be
accepted until April 16, 2001.
You can obtain your application the following ways:
1) Jan. 15 through April 16, 2001—A downloadable application will be available online at www.marinemarathon.com
2) You can apply online beginning April 16, 2001
3) Call 1-800-RUN-USMC for an application to be mailed to you beginning Jan.15, 2001