Late last fall, I received an email promoting the 50th Marine Corps Marathon. My first marathon was the 1993 MCM, and I had run the event seven times. Disregarding doctors’ suggestions to limit races to half-marathons, I registered, hoping my condition would improve with the time to prepare.
I made a deal with myself that this would be my last marathon, unless someone got me into Boston without having to run a qualifier. My goal for the race was to finish, getting past all the intermediate time cutoffs,
This race would be my 86th marathon. I almost did not make it to my first. The night before that race in 1993, James Monroe High School had a homecoming dance at the school. One of the attendees, walking from the school toward my house, slashed the tires of most of the cars along their route. The tires were on the roadside and two per car. The last car was at the beginning of my street. I assume they lived on Spotswood Street and didn’t want to get too close to home. I had one spare tire, not two. If they had hit my car, I would not have made it to the race. Without my first marathon, I never would have responded to the ad that initiated the formation of the Fredericksburg Area Running Club or run a second marathon.
It’s strange how one little lucky thing has significant consequences.
Large marathons have a few downsides, including logistical access to the event and crowded course conditions. Unless one is trained to run under 3:15, these races are not ideal for running a PR. Getting to the race may expend much energy and add miles on one’s feet. I had to get up at 2:30 am to make the 7:20 am start time.
Being retired, I could adjust my daily schedule in the final week to make that 2:30 am wake-up practical. Over the days leading up to the race, I shifted my wake-up time by 30 minutes each day, from 6 am to 2:30 am, making sure to get 8 hours of sleep each night. On Saturday, I was up at 3 am, eating lunch at 9 am,
With fully inflated tires, I left home at 4:15 am and arrived at the Springfield Metro by 5 am. I caught the Blue line to Roslyn, arriving around 5:45. For at least 18 years, the nice event organizers have sent me an invite to the MCM VIP tent. This year, the area around the finish line was fenced and restricted to charity runners and VIP tent invitees. With 40,000 runners, access to the start from the north and south was impractical,
Getting off the Metro, I should have brought a compass to make sure I was going in the right direction. I headed downhill and ran into a group of Marines. I was lucky, and they were the sentries at the outside checkpoint. They checked my credentials and pointed me in the correct direction. Finally, I made it to the VIP tent at 6:05, giving me 40 minutes to prepare before heading to the start.
I filled my water bottles, changed shoes, visited the nice facilities, and checked my clothing bag. A few other FARC members were in the tent for a secondary group picture. It was still dark when I headed downhill to the start.
I may have been a bit nervous. On Saturday, my blood pressure entered the hypertensive stage 2 at 147/78. I was getting phantom chest pains, and overnight, I felt my pulse in my left ear. At least it was constant and around 59 bpm. By Sunday morning, my BP was down, and the pains had disappeared.
The Marines did a good job herding the rest of the cats.
Packet pickup was held at the Gaylord in National Harbor on Friday and Saturday. Each runner needed to reserve a 15-minute time slot to pick up their packet. With 40,000 people, that would have 2500 people per hour. That reduced traffic and parking issues. Still, the pickup queue was about 500 people long. The line took 10 minutes. I think the checkout line of the race apparel store looked longer. The expo was overcrowded, and I only stayed a few minutes. Entering and exiting, the Gaylord had enough people to direct us.
On race morning, only runners in the general field could enter security from the south in the Pentagon Parking lot. As many porta-pots as they had in the lot, they probably didn’t have enough. They kept support crews and spectators out of the runner areas. Our numbers were color-coded to get people to line up at expected finish times. However, I could not find information on these colors.
I had a green number. Getting to the start line, I didn’t want to walk south to walk back north. I moved into the start corral with the red numbers. I knew I had to get out of the way of other runners when I started walking. I knew I could do that. Given where I lined up, I needed to get to mile 17 in 5:10, mile 20 in 5:55, and mile 22 in 6:25. These are all comfortable 18-minute-per-mile paces.
Knowing the drugs I was on caused issues while running, I planned to run 90 paces (about a minute) every 6 minutes, never walking uphill, and running more during downs. The course had more hills in the first 9 miles then it flattens. My initial drinking plan was every 18 minutes.
The forecast was overcast with 47 degrees at the start and 60 degrees by my expected finish time. I had to dress to stay warm enough at the beginning, but not overheat in the last 10 miles. Fortunately, there was little wind and a 41-degree dew point.
I wore shorts over compression shorts, a singlet over a long-sleeved shirt, gloves, a neck gaiter, a ball cap, and my Saucony Triumph 23 shoes. On the way to the start, I wore an additional overshirt.
I wore my double bottle belt and pack with UCAN Energy. I carried my cell phone, Succeed S!caps, UCAN Hydrate powder, and put my overshirt in the pack in case I had an issue on the course.
After the wheelchairs started, we moved toward the start. Finally, the run started, and I walked for about two minutes before starting to run. Close to the line, I started my Timex 6-minute countdown timer and chrono. I stated my Garmin as I crossed the line. I ran the first couple of minutes until I could get to the right and walk without being an obstruction.
Before the race, I reviewed the course map on the race website, and I looked on usatf.org for a new certification map. It looked to be the same as the 2024 course, one that I helped measure a portion of. When I got near the one-mile mark and my Garmin vibrated, I did not see a sign or a mark on the road, a foreshadowing of things to come.
The first mile was mostly uphill, and I walked most of it. Others near me were walking, too. The pace groups flocked by,
As I got near two miles, I saw the 2024 paint on the road. Later, my Garmin vibrated, then I saw the two-mile sign and a green painted mark. This was my first clue that the course was altered for 2025.
I’m not sure how to report my mile splits. My final Garmin distance was 26.66 miles; many mile signs were missing, and some of the 5km timing mats were not at their painted locations.
Spout Run was downhill onto the George Washington Parkway, so my best mile was 12:51, when I ran more than a minute at a time. Because of the hills, I did not stick to the run-walk pattern until reaching mile 10. Once reaching the Watergate, I ran 90 paces every 6 minutes with one exception. I didn’t want my heart rate to go above 140, so I didn’t start a run segment unless it was under 120. Using this process, my heart rate would peak at 133 at the end of a run segment.
By this time, the sun was out, warming things up, so much for overcast conditions. By mile 11, my neck gaiter was off, and 2 miles later, my gloves were off.
Though the day, I went through 6 bottles. On refills, I mixed a UCAN Hydrate packet and stopped for four refills. I felt my fingers swelling, so I took a couple of S!caps.
My first half-marathon was 3:02:25 or a 13:54 pace,
After mile 11, the course entered Haines Point, and the road narrowed. At this point, more people were walking than running, and my running pace was faster than those running near me.
I reached the DC gauntlet with an hour and three-quarters to spare. I started calculating and had to maintain a 30-minute-per-mile pace to meet the last course time limit. Even so, I continued the run-walk routine.
There was construction on Independence Avenue. That, along with spectators in the street, caused some bottlenecks.
Crossing the 14th Bridge, part of a run segment, was an uphill. My heart rate got to 136, and I got a little lightheaded. From there to the finish, I made sure not to push any hills. The light-headedness did not return.
The course change from 2024 to 2025 shortened the route through Georgetown and before Haines Point. All the mile signs were further down the route. The main bridge cutoff was at mile 19.5 rather than 20.2, giving many extra time. The distance was made up with a loop around a Pentagon parking lot,
I made it through Mile 20 in 4:45:09. My pace from the half point was up to 14:54.
Once at the final cutoff, I had no further time threats. I still kept the pattern going. However, there were uphills and times my heart rate did not drop below 120. I did more walking without concern.
Past mile 26, there is a steep uphill on Marshall Drive. I walked that and made the final turn. Since I started the race running, I ran the final leg to the finish. From mile 20 to the finish, my pace slowed to 15:45.
My second half was 3:20:27, only a few minutes faster than my marathon PR,
My finish time was 6:23:02 for 28,254th overall, 16,857th male, and 300th in the Male 65 to 69-year-old age group. My finish was 2 hours and 5 minutes slower than my 1993 effort. However, it was a Garmin PR, as it was my only post-procedure marathon.
There was a lot of race swag: a quarter zip sublimated race shirt, a nice finisher medal, a carry bag, and a blanket.
After finishing, I walked back to the VIP tent for a pulled pork sandwich, chips, and a cookie. As the crowd dwindled, I checked in on the beer tent my club was managing, then back to Metro.
The Roslyn Station was overcrowded, with a long line at the entrance. Once on the Blue line, I got a forward-facing seat on a standing-room-only car When we got to the Pentagon Station, there was a wait for a medical emergency.
I finally got home at 6 pm. The large Domino’s Pizza was 2000 calories and delicious.
Overnight, my issues were limited to a few hot spots and a morning PVC reading on my Kardiamobile. It appears the drugs have kept me from AFIB.