Or, I Can’t Throw Away My Throwaway Sweatshirt.
I’ll delve into that part of the story in a minute. The Indianapolis Monumental was just overall an awesome racing experience with LOTS of cool moments. It all began over a year ago…(cue flashback music)
When we found out I was pregnant last October, I was training for last year’s marathon. In fact, I’d run 18 miles the day before. Even though I had my doctor’s OK to run the race, Steve and I made the decision for me not to run. I quickly became first-trimester tired and we had concerns about possibly hurting the baby. We’d been trying for too long and gone through too much to risk anything happening to her. So, I FB messaged the race organizers and told them I wouldn’t be running and why. I wasn’t looking for a refund or anything, I just wanted to let them know. They very kindly offered me a free deferral for this year! A couple months ago, I downgraded to the half when it became quite obvious that I wasn’t up to running the full.
(And return-to-present-day music)
There was no race-day packet pickup, so on Friday afternoon (Halloween) we drove down to Indy. Our friends Phil and Judy had offered to watch Amelia that day and during the race, and our dogs are puppy buddies, so we swung by their house to drop off the little creatures before we headed downtown. We found parking pretty easily, right across from the expo in the convention center. It was really crowded, and we weren’t really in the browsing mood since we wanted to get back to the house, so we just grabbed my packet and split.
We had a really nice evening with Phil and Judy – and a few trick or treaters who were braving the horrible weather. We had grilled kebabs and veggies, green beans, rice, and this tasty yogurt/coolwhip/fruit salad. An excellent pre-race meal. We hit the hay pretty early since I was planning to get up at 5:00 the next morning.
Breakfast buddies at 5:00am
Steve took Amelia’s first feeding so I got mostly unbroken sleep, which was a HUGE blessing! I was able to pump, have breakfast (banana and peanut butter toast) and get almost all ready before she woke up again. I fed her right before we left, hoping she would give Phil and Judy a couple more hours of sleep. I should have been more worried about the dog instead; she has a tendency to howl when she feels abandoned, and apparently, howl she did right after Steve and I left the house.
We headed back to downtown and parked about five blocks from the start line. I had brought along my pump and made sure I was as empty as possible before we left the car. Experience has also taught me to wear two sports bras for runs longer than an hour. (Breastfeeding and running are not without challenges, but we power through!) I was also wearing my running skirt with capris, wicking t-shirt, and two sweatshirts. My First West Olson sweatshirt from my FRESHMAN YEAR was going to be my throwaway layer. It was SO cold – 30 degrees and windy. On our way to the starting line, I hopped into a Panera to use the restroom. Yay for avoiding the porta-johns!
This was my first big race – over 15,000 people were competing in the full, half, and 5K. All my other races had fields ranging from 50-1500. The starting area was packed. I scooted in towards the back, but Steve said there were easily 1,000 people behind me. As we stood there trying to keep warm before the start, we started randomly talking to another lady, who had given birth just three months before! She gave me a great tip, too – take Advil a couple times during the race. She even shared her Advil with me, and gave Steve the rest of the bottle since she didn’t want to haul it with her. And it really helped, too! I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before. I didn’t realize how much pain I’d just been enduring.
Elite by association?
And We’re Off!
Mile 1: It took me 10 minutes to reach the starting line because there were so many people ahead of me. For the first mile, I was just happy to warm up. The course wound around downtown, past Lucas Oil Stadium, Monument Circle, the Murat Theatre, etc. A really great course. Although it was a little odd running past the area where the IPD parks their crime scene forensics vans. Fastest mile: 9:11 pace.
Miles 2-3: I was warming up and took off my hat and gloves (one of which went MIA, bummer.) I started thinking that soon I would have to pitch my outer sweatshirt. I seriously spent at least two miles saying goodbye to this sweatshirt, which dated from my freshman year of college. I thought about how lonely and foreign I felt that year, and how those girls on my wing loved me despite my issues. That sweatshirt, with First West on the front and Hepworth on the back, really symbolized a shift in my heart, when I finally allowed myself to belong here in this country. And then, within a couple years, my name changed when Steve and I got married, and there was a little grief with no longer being a Hepworth. Obviously, I have no problem being an Elwood, but I think many women who take their husbands’ names can identify. But this sweatshirt was a physical symbol of my pre-married identity. And then I thought about my friends from the wing, how we have gone our separate ways…I haven’t seen them for a long time. Anyway, maybe you can see why this took me a couple miles to come to grips with!
Miles 4-5: Mass Ave is a super fun street, and I really enjoyed running through that neighborhood. I passed a guy wearing a kilt. A guy not in the race decided to try to navigate through the wall o’runners and almost took me out. A blast of cold air made me decide to hang on to my sweatshirt for a bit longer. Then, I heard from the sidewalk, “Yeah, First West! You got it, baby!” Well, that just made me want to keep it even more! Favorite signs: “Sweat is sexy!” “Worst Parade Ever!” “There’s beer at the finish!”
Miles 6-7: At the 10K mark, we ran over a sensor mat. I’d signed Steve up to get a text at that point and he texted me to say that I was on target for making my 2:30 goal. But I knew I was getting tired and couldn’t sustain that pace. Coming towards the halfway mark, the marathoners split from the rest of us. We were in a more residential neighborhood with lots of pretty houses and churches. I was so impressed at the way the faith community was represented. At least two aid stations were in front of churches (probably because the parking lots made setup easier) and about six churches had live bands or spectators cheering. I stopped at every aid station. I needed the walking breaks. I was super glad I’d used the bathroom before the race; at every porta-john station, the lines were like 10 deep. Nope, nope, nope. The sun was out, but it was windy and I was feeling chilled; my sweatshirt was going nowhere.
Miles 8-9: I was still feeling pretty good. I laughed as I passed the 9 mile mark. My longest training run had been only 8 miles, so with this mile mark, I surpassed all my runs for over a year! I knew I was going to come in well after 2:30, but I was OK with that. I focused on enjoying myself, thanking the police officers who were blocking traffic for us, thanking the volunteers, and soaking in energy from cheering spectators. Also, at this point, we were joined back up with the marathon course, and the elites were zooming by next to us. It was SO cool! I saw both the male and female winners. Very inspirational to be left in their dust.
Miles 10-12: Things started hurting. I was taking more walking breaks. My toes, my knees, my hips all were aching. But at this point, heck, Imma keep my sweatshirt! I’d had several more people call out, “Go First West!” during the race and I mean, that’s just fun. I noticed an older runner wearing a tshirt that said, “In honor of my wife and running buddy.” Underneath was her name and dates of birth and death. Very moving. Then another older dude wearing what appeared to be khakis and and old-man jacket powerwalked past me. Nice.
Mile 13: I stepped to the side and tied my sweatshirt around my waist so my number was visible. The number of spectators increased as we got closer, and they were so encouraging. Coming into the finish line area, I scanned the crowd for Steve, finally spotting him waving at me. I did some kind of weird victory gesture and crossed the finish line.
Volunteers handed me a hat, coverup, and medal. I tried to catch my breath and got a little teary. I couldn’t believe I’d just run 13.1 miles, five months after giving birth. I’m so lucky. I have a beautiful daughter, amazing husband, and supportive friends. AND MY FIRST WEST SWEATSHIRT!!! Stained, ripped pocket, and 14 years old, I just couldn’t give it up.
I grabbed water, chocolate milk, a couple bananas, a cookie, and met up with Steve. After also taking three small Jimmy John’s sandwiches, too. Seriously, eating is the best part of running. We walked (I hobbled) back to the car and headed back to Fishers to retrieve our small creatures. What an awesome race. The organizers were top notch and volunteers and police were the best. I would totally run this one again!
A monumental medal