This was my third marathon and it went almost as well as I would have liked. Here's what I thought of it in 1992:

On the Sunday morning or the race I awoke to the alarm on my Timex Iron Man Triathlon watch. I was pumped! I dressed quickly and ate a banana and a Power Bar. About 96 ounces of water later Penny Warren, Eric Hjort and I were on the way to San Francisco. This was at 5:30am. We got to the Hyatt at about 6:00am. Most of the runners were there and we were going to be bussed over to the north side of the Golden Gate Bridge. But there were about 1500 runners and only 10 or so buses, so it was a long wait. In the interim I ate another Power Bar and another banana. I drank some Gatorade also. Then the 96 ounces of water started making their presence felt, fortunately there was a restroom in the Hyatt at the disposal of the runners. I used it early and often.

By 7:15am we still hadn't gotten on a bus. The race started at 8:00am and we were not even at the starting line. Soon we pushed and shoved our way on to a bus and were on our way. The drive through the city gave us a preview of the course. It looked to be pretty flat, at least compared to the hills that I have been training on, hills that reduced lesser men to tears as I ran past then and scoffed at their measly efforts.

As we approached the start I again felt the call of nature. Unfortunately so did most all of the other runners, so I began the first event of the day. The stand in line with 3000 other people waiting to use the port-o-potties. During the wait I ate my third and final Power Bar. Waiting in the line took up most of the time until the actual start of the race. Because we had not gotten to the start until very late and because the lines were very long we started the race at the very back of the pack. None of us heard the starting bell and I didn't cross the start line for over three minutes. This was fine with Penny and Eric who were first time marathon runners and running to finish, but I had a goal and wanted to get going. As soon as possible I cut to the outside and began my assault on the course.

I ran the first mile in 9:02, right on pace. I had planned to run the course in blocks of five miles at a certain pace. Starting with a 9:00 per mile pace and then decreasing it by 15 seconds every five miles. I would finish up at an 8:00 pace. But the next mile was fast and I was ahead of schedule. I would make up for that soon though because even more of the 96 ounces of water I had drunk wanted to leave my body. Soon after crossing the Golden Gate Bridge I spotted some bushes, me and a few dozen other guys. So I made a quick pit stop and got back in the race. I was right on schedule. The first water stop was confused. The people there didn't have it set up yet and it was hard to get something to drink.

During the first few miles my knees and feet bothered me, it was a dull pain in my joints that slowly worked it's way out as I loosened up. But after four miles or so I noticed another area of pain. My stomach was killing me. I had heard that the Power Bars were quick to digest, but apparently they had not digested quickly enough. Now I had to make another pit stop, this time a number two. As we approached Fisherman's Warf and the next water station I noticed some public bathrooms, so did a few dozen other guys. I made my pit stop and didn't lose very much time. I was running faster that I had hoped to and was ahead of my pace.

We ran through the downtown area and stopped a lot of traffic. It must have been me, it was a warm day and I was running without a shirt. As the race progressed I passed a lot of people, but I myself was passed by a lot of people. I made sure to remember them, because I hoped to see them again.

Around ten miles we hit the worst hill of the course on Hayes. It was long gentle slope and nothing compared to the hills I train on here. I mocked the hill and ran past several people. People I had seen passing me earlier. The hill meant nothing to me and I told it that.

What did mean something to me was the churning I felt in my stomach. The Power Bars were not digesting as easily as I had been led to believe. I decided I would run until halfway and then look for a place to make a pit stop. There were port-o-potties at the water stations and I would use one of them. Around mile fourteen we passed though Golden Gate Park and I found my pit stop. Minutes later I was back on the road. I was still a little ahead of schedule and not feeling to bad.

Though the pit stop had cost me little time on my personal goal, I was again behind a lot of people I had worked hard to pass. In particular this one muscle head guy who I had passed on the hill. I had not yet crushed him when I had to stop. I granted him a temporary reprieve and he had used it well. I could barely see him as we approached mile 16.

At that water stop I finally released the gases that had been plaguing me throughout the race. My stomach finally felt good. With new strength I set forth on the last ten miles of the race. At this point I must say that in marathons it is sometimes a little depressing to know you've run 16 miles and have ten more to go. At the beginning it's not too bad, but as you run further the distance you have to run doesn't seem to shrink very quickly.

My right leg was beginning to hurt and my feet and knees were starting to bother me. My right hamstring had bothered my when I ran the 20 miles the week before, but I hoped that on a cooler day with more water I would be okay. Now it felt like it might cramp up real nice if I wasn't careful. To help things out a little I opened up my stride and went a little faster. It would stretch things out and hopefully lessen the chances of a cramp. It would also help me to pass that muscle head guy and then crush him as we rounded mile 19.

Before the race I read about the first great american marathon runner. He chanted to himself "You are one tough bastard" as he ran. I began this I around mile 20 as I started seeing a lot of the people who had passed me at mile five. Miles 21 and 22 were pretty quick. But at mile 22 I hit the wall. What has happened is that you have used almost all of your muscle glycogen and you're burning mostly fat. It's not very efficient and it hurts. It was getting to be depressing. I knew the end was near, but the finish line was nowhere in sight. We still had a long straight away along the beach front and then a turn back into Golden Gate Park and into the Polo Grounds.

I was still on schedule but was losing my cushion I had built up. By mile 23 it was gone. By mile 24 I was behind schedule. But I had only 2.2 miles to go (at this point the 0.2 miles was a big thing) and I knew I could suck it up for 2.2 more miles.

After I had hit the wall my stride fell very short and I slowed a lot. My legs started feeling tight and like they might cramp. Again I opened up my stride and began my kick on the homestretch. I ran with an easy stride that belied the pain I was feeling. My stride may not have shown it, but I'm sure my face did. There was a small hill up to the Polo grounds and again it meant nothing to me, I sped up it and passed struggling runners who had obviously not trained on the daunting hills I had.

The last turn was into the Polo Grounds and around half of the track. I maintained and even strain as I headed home. One more kick and I was past the finish line 3:46:51 after I had crossed the start. Both of my calves decided to cramp at once. I convinced them not to and hobbled through the finishing chute, turned in my race stub and got my medal. It might sound like a big deal to get a medal, but when it's one of thousands coming out of big cardboard boxes it tarnishes things pretty fast.

Along with the medal I got a tin foil blanket. I covered up with it and hobbled to the massage tent were my calves were attended to as I lay on a cot. I had hoped to feel more elation at that moment. I had beaten my previous time by almost 25 minutes and run at about and 8:40 per mile pace. But I was tired and wet and my legs and feet hurt a lot.

A few minutes later I left the massage tent and got my finisher's t-shirt (it has a big picture of a Master Card on it and says (in very small letters) I mastered the San Francisco Marathon). I put it on and went to look for my sweats. We all left our sweats in bags at the start they didn't make us run back to get them, but they did put them pretty far away from the finish line. The last thing I wanted to do was go for a nice long walk and log through 3000 plastic bags for my sweats. I did it anyway.

Penny and Eric finished about 45 minutes later and looked pretty strong. We all wore our medals and sat a lot. After a while we tried to go to the Samuel Adams beer tent, but it was free of beer by the time we got there. Disappointed and tired we headed for the bus that would drive us back to the Hyatt and our car.

The bus trip sucked because it was a grade school bus and the seats were so close together that I could not get my knees in the seat, they hit the back of the seat in front of me. What a pleasant ride to take after running for over three hours.

The rest of the day was spent at home laying around watching movies and eating pizza and milk shakes. We watched a the half hour special they had on the race, but neither Penny or I were in any of the shots. After a few Advil the only thing that hurt were my knees. Walking up stairs was slow, but not too bad. After my first marathon I was in so much pain that I could not even sleep. I stayed up all night and didn't sleep until the next night. This time I felt fine.

Monday I was almost back to normal and by Tuesday I was fine. Today I ran about six miles and after a slow start I cruised the last half home at a pretty good clip. There's a marathon in Sacramento December 6 that I'm going to run. It's all down hill and I hope to take another 25 minutes or so off my time. To qualify for the Boston Marathon you have to run a 3:10 (in my age group anyway). I might not make that this year, but next year at Chicago I should kick some butt.

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