Well, Cleveland, you were one for the record books. High winds, heavy sleet, relentless hail… calling this marathon “treacherous” would be an understatement. I actually thought to myself at mile 13, “I bet you the Tribe game is going to get canceled, and yet I’m still running 26.2 miles in this crap.” But alas, the Tribe game turned out to be beautiful. The clouds broke, the sun came through, and Cleveland witnessed a beautiful spring day at the ballpark: a major difference from the winter weather conditions a few hours before. I’m going to do my best to recap the race for you, from what I remember. My head was pretty clear for the most part, but I was in shock for most of the race so I’m probably forgetting some minor details.
Miles 1-4: Thought of the moment: “Only in Cleveland.”
Like any good marathoner, I religiously weather-stalked days, hours and minutes before the race began. Every SINGLE meteorologist warned us that there may be a chance for sleet at the start line, but the vast majority of your race should just be cool with some spots for wind. Well, within about .5 miles, the sleet started. And it never stopped. Ever. I had a windbreaker on that I knew I would eventually take off once I warmed up, but that seemingly inevitable warm-up I was anticipating never happened. A few loops downtown and heading up the Lorain bridge, my legs felt solid, my head was in the right place, and I couldn’t wait to see my friends in Tremont knowing they would have quite the cheer station ready.
Miles 5-6.5: Thought at the moment: “Is it seriously still sleeting?”
“Chance for sleet” turned into constant sleet coming in all directions. But, I felt my body start to warm up internally, so I felt comfortable throwing my jacket to my boyfriend when I saw him at mile 5.5. BAD DECISION. I have run races in 35-degree weather, and it feels great. I would take that weather over 70 and sunny any day. So I felt comfortable in my experiences that shedding my jacket at this point was a reasonable decision. Stay tuned for the mile 7-10 recap for more on this topic.
Seeing my friends and family on Tremont Ave. was the best feeling ever. I cannot get over the amount of love (and beer) you poured on me and the other runners. You braved the weather to hand out beer and water and made the early portion of this race pretty wonderful. Hearing the stories from you all about how the watch party went had me in tears I was laughing so hard. I was told that what started as a watch party beer pong table was confused by runners as a water station, so the beer pong party never really happened. Instead, my friends decided that if you can’t beat em, join em, and started handing out full beers to thirsty runners. “Beer Station” posters surfaced and fridges were being raided to keep up with the demand. Double Chocolate Stout, Rolling Rock, Bud Light, PBR – whatever was left in the fridge (some of these probably untouched for months) was now being handed out. Most runners appreciated this kind gesture, but some were thrown a curve ball and actually ran back to return the beer thinking it was water or Gatorade. Whoops. In talking to my good friend and unofficial Tremont Beer Station Captain, Rhonda, she stated that because the demand was so high, they will be purchasing a keg for next year’s race. Solid decision, coach Rhonda! Thank you to all of you who came out to Brhonda’s Sunday morning, especially Rick & Drew who made that long trek.
Miles 7-10: Thought at the moment: “Sleet. Everywhere. From all directions.”
We ran through a part of Cleveland that I didn’t even know existed. I felt like I was running in an underground race. I actually still have no idea where the hell we were, but I just knew that the weather was inescapable. Around mile 7, the sleet was coming down so hard that it actually felt like pin pricks on my skin. I was miserable. It was then that I started to feel the effects of the precipitation. My running clothes were completely soaked, and I had to run with my head down to block my face from the wind and sleet because if I looked up too much, I got ice in my eye and it made my eyes burn and sting. By mile 8, I actually lost feeling in my hands. For those of you who don’t know, or wondered why I had that “weird blue tape” on my left hand, I sprained (so I think – unofficial self-diagnosis and treatment) two of my fingers on my left hand in a football game a couple of weeks ago. I wore kinesiology tape to keep my fingers somewhat stiff so I didn’t clinch them too much while running. I also kept the top of the two fingers buddy-taped to prevent any sudden stretch or impact to them. My fingers were incredibly sore from the cold weather, and were very stiff. I got pretty worried at one point because I was afraid that since I couldn’t feel most of my hand, that I was over-stretching or bending them and in turn doing them more damage. But back to losing feeling in my hands. I mean it when I say I literally could not feel either hand. I kept making fists and trying to bring blood flow back into them, but because I didn’t wear gloves (for the record, I never wear gloves during marathons because my hands ALWAYS warm up… lesson learned after this race), there was really no way to keep them warm. Around mile 9, as I was preparing to open a GU, I realized that because my hands were numb, I couldn’t reach back in my Camelbak to open the zipper and find the GU. There were two half marathon runners that kept the same pace as me for most of the 9 miles, so I kindly asked one of them to run directly behind me and try to get my GU out. Like an angel from above, or a magician for that matter, she reaches down her shirt and says “would you like my gloves? I’m only running the half, and you need them more than me. Please, take them. I’m sorry they’re sweaty though!” I legitimately started crying. I couldn’t get the buddy tape off my fingers, so now I had a glove on my left hand with a floppy ring finger and a middle finger that looked like it was giving people the bird the entire rest of the race, and a right hand that was safely covered from the elements. I kept blowing warm air on to them to get feeling back, but I truly didn’t gain feeling back in them until close to mile 23. I couldn’t even grab the Honey Stinger packet from the volunteer at mile 20. Feeling = GONE.
Shout out to Caroline, Katie, Sarah, Brad, Marquez and PeTER for cheering me on around mile 8.5! I was told Marquez may have gotten yelled at for “cheering too loudly” from the “mean cup-scooping lady.” Wait till next year, lady, when he breaks out the mile 8.5 Karaoke Dance Party Station. You thought they were bad this year? Just wait for the fun that’s in store next year, you cranky volunteer. Being the one who was actually out there, I can safely say that I appreciated every spectator, regardless of what they were yelling at me. You all rock.
Miles 11-17.5 Thought at the moment: “Still sleeting. And WHERE THE HELL IS THIS F’ING TURNAROUND”
Cleveland was a ghost town. Nothing like last year’s race. Minimal spectators (for obvious reasons) and a meager amount of full marathon participants. Running down Detroit and on my way to Rocky River, the sleet really picked up. I mean, I can’t even describe the amount of sleet that was coming down. It was horrible. I paced with a fellow runner for about 3 miles, and at one point he looked up and said “No one could have prepared for this. I cannot believe this is actually happening to us right now.” Oddly enough, my legs still felt strong and my mind was feeling real good, but my outer shell was in some serious pain. I started to see a small amount of faster runners pass by on the other side. This got my spirits up a tad bit, thinking the turnaround was near. It wasn’t. It felt like I was running for a damn hour before I saw this “supposed” turnaround. I actually questioned if there even was a turnaround by the time I was to the bridge. Sleet was pounding my face so hard and the wind was so heavy, it was actually pushing me back. I dropped so many F bombs at that particular time, and honestly questioned if I would make it through. I have never (knock on wood) DNF’ed, but if there was a course to do it, this was the one. My friend, Jessie, who ran the half, actually said that she almost hailed (pun intended) an ambulance and faked an injury just so she could sit in some warmth for a few minutes.
The turnaround finally came, and at one point, the sun came out. But then it went away. It pretty much lasted about 3.5 minutes. Then the sleet started up again. The wind was finally at my back, but the sleet gave zero f#cks. I could not believe this weather.
Special shout out to Gary, my favorite yoga instructor, who was there at mile 14ish and stood in the rain waiting for me. I almost yelled out to him to do a handstand, but unfortunately, he was probably so drenched that he would have fallen over or gotten rain all up his nose. Thanks for coming out and being such a great supporter!
Miles 18-26: Thought at the moment: “Get to 21. Get 22. Get to 23. Get to 24. Oh, and I have a friend at mile 21 waiting for me with a PBR!!!”
Side note: that friend vanished and was MIA. Jake Horbol, you owe me. On a shitty day like yesterday, knowing spectators are around the corner is very helpful for mental sanity. It sounds like I’m only picking on Jake, but I was sad my family wasn’t at The Harp at mile 23.5 either. (They were, however, at the finish line, which was the better decision on their part, and I am no longer upset with them!) Last year’s watch party at The Harp was unparalleled. This year, it was a ghost town. Abandoned water stations, huge signs fallen over, no one at The Harp. I expected tumbleweeds to start rolling by, too.
Despite the conditions worsening, I actually still felt very good, surprisingly good for the last 6 miles. I stayed on pace and in fact got faster in miles 22-24. For this, I credit Jose Gonzalez, my coworker, who ran with me for a few minutes and offered me his gloves, hat, jacket and free drink tickets. Haha. Jose, you made me smile at both points in the race that I saw you, and you definitely lifted my spirits during points in the race where I really needed it. I think God knew you should wait for me there, because it helped me a ton and was greatly appreciated!
The last 6 miles kind of flew by, which is weird to say. I really just wanted the race to be over. I knew I wasn’t going to hit my PR, which I was totally ok with, but I was still hoping to break four hours. I saw the pacer well in front of me and knew I probably wasn’t going to catch up. But somehow, some way, my legs just magically picked up the pace, and I CAUGHT UP. I turned the corner onto Lakeside, and there he was. I couldn’t believe it. I felt like a freak of nature, in the midst of nature being freaky. He was in my grasp, and I passed him. I sped to that finish line like I was running for my life. I felt strong. I felt amazing. I felt proud of myself. And most importantly, I felt redemption from Boston. I broke the 4-hour mark in treacherous, relentless, horrific conditions. I didn’t even think I was going to finish at one point, and instead, I finished with time to spare. I got my groove back, and I felt amazing.
My mom, boyfriend and brother were all there waiting for me. They were crying (in typical Cesen fashion) and were so proud of me. It was such a wonderful feeling to see them. However, I couldn’t believe what a ghost town the finish line area was. I expected hundreds of people there, but instead, only the strong survived. Rain-soaked fans, signs flipping over, just a pure mess. I couldn’t help but laugh. In the scheme of things, this entire race was a joke. I couldn’t even be mad anymore. I’m the one who picked this city to live in. I’m the one who rolled the dice in registering knowing that this race could be a hot or cold disaster. I just couldn’t have ever in my wildest dreams imagined a race like this one.
Shout out to Aaron & Hillary who got to give me my medal! It was great to have friends be the ones to give me medal #16.
I finished with a time of 3:58:27. Columbus, you better be 55 and overcast in October. Nikki, Stephen & Rowan, get your signs ready! I expect big things from that little baby this fall.
Thanks to everyone who came out and support us, whether you were out for 5 minutes or 5 hours, I felt like a celebrity thanks to you!
Running With Nicole 