Marathon Deaths. What on Earth is happening?

If you are a runner or you are thinking about becoming a runner, you should read this. If you have just started running you should read this. If you think you know everything about running and no one can tell you nuttin' you should still read this. Most importantly, if you are any of the above and you have people in your life that love you and care about you, you should read this.

Hearing the tragic news about Claire Squires, a thirty year young woman who collapsed and died at mile 25 during the London Marathon compelled me to share the details of my experience during my second marathon. Race deaths (geez, is there a name for this occurrence now?) seem to be a taboo subject for runners. What good would it be to tell your family and friends "wow, another runner died at a race this week" unless you want to scare the crap about them from now on every time you step out to the start of a race?

the definition of insanity... (and a 15 mile run)

Did I learn anything from this experience????

Well, yes, but that doesn't mean I'm going to apply what I learned.

I ran 15 miles yesterday. And honestly, I'm feeling great thirty-something hours later. I'm glad my body is still willing to handle all this running. I ran with my blackberry,(the phone has my playlist and makes it convenient to call for help if I get injured or an unexpected torrential downpour begins when I'm miles from home)headphones, $3, my Garmin 305, and a 16 oz bottle of water.

Boys and girls, what's missing? (I'll give you a hint- it starts with "F" and rhymes with duel.)

I am a bit reluctant to admit that I discovered that loops (yes, loops, as in around and around in big big circles) are easier on me than out-and-back when it comes to a long run. That bothers me, for some reason, but it's the truth. So this 15 miles was captured in an unorthodox loop on the boardwalk where I usually run. Weather was IDEAL for such treachery. The Asbury Park end of this loop was a bit clogged with zombies but I managed to weave through them and not get too irritated because it seems most non-residents have no concept of the fact that they don't own the entire width of the boardwalk and ought to make at least a little space for others to get around them when they're strolling along.

So this run didn't really challenge me until mile 11. I knew that I should have brought a source of electrolytes along, but I decided that if I could run ten miles with just water on a hot day, that fifteen on a mild day would be fine. Additionally, since the low sodium scare that followed my second marathon, I have made a carrying $3-$5 in cash a required part of my running gear. I didn't count, but if you include my .28 mile walk to the boardwalk from my home, I believe I pass about 6 different places that sell gatorade on this route. I pass all of them at least twice- some of them more, so I had at least eighteen different opportunities to buy gatorade during this run. But no. I just drank water. And refilled my empty bottle in Belmar.

I felt weak at mile 11. Confused. And then, I became unjustifiably weepy. (though I didn't really weep, I just thought I might if I wasn't trying to push through a run.) I wonder if other runners ever experience this- it's not because the run is hard or painful or anything that makes sense. That's what's so baffling about the unexpected... uhhh... sadness, for lack of better term. I get sad. Then I kind of get freaked out over the unexpected, unprocessed sudden onset of the emotion. I remember feeling this exact feeling during my 2nd marathon and being unable to find the reason for the sadness.

Unlike the 2nd marathon, I did not finish the run then go straight into an ambulance BUT I struggled during the entire walk home (which is just over .25 miles) and I kept reading the street signs because I wasn't sure how far from home I was. (Weird, because I walk the same street every time I head to the boardwalk.) Something was happening. I got home and felt sick, but had to pee really bad, so I assumed I was not severely dehydrated. After cooling down and taking a shower, I got really nauseous. I got in bed and hoped it would subside. Every time I drank more water it turned my stomach, but I never got physically sick and I couldn't imagine eating food while feeling like this.

So I re-learn the lesson. Hopefully for the last time. The end result of runs like this might be more defeating than skipping a scheduled run. They provoke fear and hesitation and self doubt. They make me question my body's ability to complete the marathon distance. Who needs that?