26.2 miles: Best of times, worst of times

Two things you should know about running 26.2 miles before registering for the Kauai Marathon on Aug. 31: It can be the best of times and it can be the worst of times. Literally.

Allow me to explain.

In the 20 or so marathons I’ve run, some have gone better than expected and I’ve reached the finish line faster than projected. Others have turned from euphoria in the early miles to agony in the late ones. And some started with great dread and finished with great relief. There are a number of things that influence the outcome of your marathon. Preparation, weather, course, pace and tolerance for pain come into play. But sometimes, you can do everything right and it’s just not your day for whatever reason. In some sports, you can get lucky — a hit, a catch, a basket. A teammate can make up for a bad day. Not so in the marathon. No luck involved. It’s you, your work and commitment. No one gets lucky and wins a marathon.

Here’s a quick highlight of a few marathons I’ve run that ended with a triumphant charge to the finish, and those that ended with the shuffle/walk and finally collapse. First, the good.

• Tacoma, Wash. — My first marathon, back in the early 80s. Hardly any spectators. A few hundred runners at best. But I’ll never forget that picture of my brother Michael running by my side, offering encouraging words and cheering me on. For my inaugural try at this distance, it went surprisingly well. I finished in 2 hours, 54 minutes and 31 seconds, just short of the Boston Marathon qualifying time of 2:50. I would beat that in my next marathon, the Seattle Marathon, running 2:48:58.

 • Emerald City Marathon — Seattle doesn’t even have this marathon anymore, but it was big in the mid-80s. Two things to note: I was so happy, running strong and feeling great one year, that more than 20 miles into the race I was waving to family members as they drove past on their way to see me finish. It seemed so easy. Best of all, both feet were off the ground in the race picture as I dashed the final yards to finish in 2:45:34. Two years later on this course, I set my PR of 2:41:19, running the final 10K in 38 minutes. I can’t even break 40 minutes for a single 10K race anymore. 

• Boston Marathon — As glorious as they say. From start to finish, the crowd cheers you on. It’s been eight years since I ran Boston in 2006, finishing in 3:11:31. My goal was to break 3 hours, but no sleep for two days and walking all around Beantown the day before the race did me in and I faded badly on Heartbreak Hill. Not even the screams of the women of Wellesley could snap me from my old man shuffle. Still, it was Boston and the beers afterward were wonderful.

• Kauai Marathon — Could they make this course any tougher? Once the half marathoners and marathoners go their separate ways, the marathoners face a series of uphills over the next 10 miles or so. Brutal. But for once, I ran smart and went out at a conservative 8:30 pace and held it to finish in 3:43, even passing people in the late miles and managing a late sprint. From the starting line ceremony and blessing to great crowds to the volunteers and the oceanview finish line, this is a great race. And the post-run party is second to none.

As for the bad:

• Coeur d’Alene Marathon — The classic case of going out too fast, and hitting that proverbial wall. The final 10 miles were absolute agony and when I finished, I took a few steps and couldn’t even stand, so I just kind of collapsed, sprawled out on the blacktop. The problem here was, I decided I didn’t need to include 20-mile runs in my training. I also decided to ignore early warnings the pace was too fast. Might be the most painful marathon I’ve ever run.

• Emerald City Marathon — Yep, this one again. I flew through 20 miles in two hours, holding onto 6 minute per mile pace. In this one, my worst decision was to wear relatively new racing flats, something Nike used to make called the American Eagle. My feet were hurting so much, I asked my brother to run home and get my other racing shoes. Too late. By the time I changed shoes, my chance at a PR was gone and I finished in 2:42 and change.

• Training marathon in Montana — I came up with the brilliant idea once to run from my Uncle Frank’s farm in the Highwood Mountains down to the town of Belt, Mont., and then run back. I also decided I didn’t need any water or food of any kind. Oh, the trip down on the gravel road through the endless green pastures of the Big Sky Country was quite pleasant with blue skies and a nice breeze. Coming back up, well, I’d rather not talk about it, other than to say a dog chased me, a rattlesnake was coiled on the roadside (a relative told me to run in the middle of the road because rattlers warm themselves on the sides), I declined an offer of a ride, drank water from a stream that should best be avoided, and staggered back slightly before nightfall. Let’s say I wasn’t thinking clearly when I started that one.

I’ve learned this when it comes to the marathon: Hope for the best, expect the worst. See you at the starting line.

• Bill Buley is editor-in-chief of The Garden Island.