After four days of close priorities and careful energy-rationing, I think I’m finally ready to post something about the collossal, insurmountable beast that was the Great Wall Marathon. Thanks for your patience.

As you probably know, my training for this marathon really went south in the last two months, leaving me very unprepared for the big race. I had only run about once per week, I had to battle an assortment of injuries and illnesses, and I fell and messed up both shins and my neck during my last workout. As a result, I really had to crack down and focus in the few remaining days, going for daily massages, being extremely careful about my rest and diet, and doing a lot of research online about marathon training and strategy.

The travel to Beijing went off without a hitch … I arrived there two days early and met Travis, another WorldTeach teacher from Hunan. We chilled for a day then met up with fellow volunteers Kate, Heidi, Natalie, Kathryn, and our lone fan, Rick. We had a good meal the night before the race then went to bed as early as we could to prepare for our 1:15am wakeup. Yep … we had to catch a three hour shuttle out to the Great Wall in time for the early morning start!

Despite the obstacles, I felt great on race day. I am, by nature, a performer … and my many years of test-taking, quasi-leadership roles, classroom teaching, and generally flying-by-the-seat-of-my-pants had prepared me well for the build-up to a “big day”. I was mentally prepared, emotionally excited, physically rested, and spiritually challenged.

For the first eight miles, I ran with Kate, the other WorldTeach volunteer running the full marathon (the others were in the half marathon). The first three miles were a steady uphill climb … so we took it fairly slow, rising up the mountainside at about a 10 or 11 minute pace. We walked on the really steep parts and generally enjoyed the beautiful scenery and each other’s company. Kate was a lovely person to run with!

At mile 3, we hit the Great Wall … and the whole race turned into a big bottleneck. The two-mile section that we would be running (twice) was rather steep, narrow, and even dangerous at parts, so for the first time through we basically walked each of the thousands of stairs. It was a little rough on my knees, as we had to go very slow up and down the stairs (and I have relatively long legs), but I managed to get through it ok.

Two miles later, we finished the first loop of the course and passed by the start/finish line. We looked around for Rick, our lone fan, but didn’t see him as we passed the crowds. I was really disappointed … Rick was supposed to catch a public bus up to the town where we were running to see us, but he apparantly didn’t make it. As we ran out onto the road, however, we saw him … and he quickly snapped a few photos of Kate and I running and spilling drink all over ourselves. I’m sure I’ll get those photos eventually …

The next three miles were pretty flat. We ran out of the town and to some nearby villages, passing many locals who excitedly shouted “Hello” and “Jia You” (”add oil”, the typical Chinese sports cheer) as we passed. It was fun talking to them as we ran by, and their encouragement at every turn really helped a lot!

The course itself was well-marked, manned by friendly middle school students, and stocked at regular intervals with water, wet sponges, electrolytes, and medical staff. It was well organized … I was even able to send some energy bars and electrolytes ahead to specific parts of the course for some much-needed nutrition!

But soon I was able to see how the wall had taken its toll on my body … though my spirits were high and my energy even higher, my left knee began to ache steadily with each step. I could tell that it wasn’t going to go away … so by the time we got to mile eight I simply had to take a break. I waved goodbye to Kate as she disappeared into the distance then grabbed a drink and took a walk.

For the next three or four miles, I alternated jogging and walking, doing my best to keep going while trying to protect my knee as much as possible. I tried to distract myself with the dozens of interesting people I was meeting in the race … but lurking beneath everything was the steadily increasing pain in my knee. In reality, I had never run more than ten consecutive miles in my life, so I really had no idea what was ahead of me.

At about mile 12, I had to stop jogging … possibly for good. My knee was really in pain, and if I wanted to have any chance of finishing this race, I couldn’t jolt it around any more. So I walked. I met several very interesting people along the way who were walking too … one housewife from California strolled across the halfway point (13.1 miles) with me as we chatted.

Then I got to the top of a long hill, and I decided to use my momentum to jog down it as lightly as possible. That was a bad idea. By the time I got to the bottom of the hill, I found that my left knee was utterly useless … I couldn’t even stand on it! I was in so much pain, and the nearest medical station was, from my memory, about half a mile away. So I found a patch of shade and sat down, hoping for a miracle.

A passing runner noticed my pain and asked if I needed some aspirin, while another actually had a small tube of Ben Gay sports cream that she offered to me. I graciously accepted both and found that these miraculous western medicines gave new life to my knee, allowing me to walk to the next pit stop!

When I arrived, however, I found that the doctor was not in. The ambulance had taken another injured runner to the start and hadn’t returned in over 20 minutes. I was hoping to get some advice and maybe a wrap for my knee, but after waiting for another fifteen minutes, I decided to just go on my merry way. The next medical station was about two or three miles away, and to be honest, I didn’t want someone telling me to stop.

So I walked. And walked. And walked. When the knee hurt too bad, I started skipping on my right foot. After a while, I actually developed a new mode of transportation … it went something like this:

1. Step with the left foot.
2. Step with the right foot.
3. Step with the left foot.
4. Hop twice with the right foot.
5. Repeat.

Eventually, my right ankle started hurting from the extra toll of this new walk/skip strategy. So by the time I got to the next medical station, I had yet another thing to complain about. I took one look at the doctor’s gentle and caring eyes, however, and I knew what I had to say …

“How far to the wall?” I asked.

Yep, I didn’t tell him that I was hurt. I could tell, you see, that he was the type of person that would force me to stop and call it quits … so I mustered up everything I had and acted like nothing was wrong. He couldn’t really answer my question, so I grabbed some water and went hobbling off into the distance.

Some simple math, however, told me that I wouldn’t hit the wall again until mile 21. That meant another 5-6 miles of walking on a bad knee and bum ankle … and to make matters worse, I knew that they closed the wall at the six hour mark. So I had to finish those 5-6 miles in about two hours or I would be forced to stop the race!

I dug in … and to make a long story short, I did it! I made back to the wall at about 5 hours and 30 minutes, full of energy but with little strength left in my legs. I was greeted enthusiastically by my friends, who had already finished the half-marathon … but I hurridly explained to them that I still had five miles to go and I needed some medical attention!

So Rick and I went into the medical tent and I asked them to wrap up my knee and my ankle. If I could just get some more support, I told them, I thought I could finish the race. So they wrapped me up … and after a funny little photoshoot with Rick, I went on my way.

The next two miles were absolutely brutal. It was the same stretch of the Great Wall that I had climbed at the beginning of the race, but in reverse … and at the get-go, I was greeted with a long never-ending flight of stone stairs. It was literally over a thousand of them … straight up! So I pushed the pain into the back of my mind and got into a rhythm, pushing myself up each stair as methodically as I could.

I found, throughout these two miles, that I was actually one of the fastest climbers on the wall. Even with my injuries, I passed dozens and dozens of people, many of whom were resting wearily or literally crawling on their hands and knees up the steep stairs. A few people needed medical attention, and I was able to use my limited Mandarin to communicate with the locals and help them to get what they needed.

So once I got into a rhythm, going up was actually pretty easy for me, especially if I used my arms to push down on my knees as I climbed. But going down … now that was the hard part. It hurt so bad to descend, either on stairs or on an incline, that I was forced to be creative. Sometimes I sat and scootched down the steep stairs, sometimes I leaned heavily on the walls, and eventually I figured out that the best way was to simply walk backwards as gingerly as possible. So I did!

I exited the two mile stretch of wall at about 6 hours and 45 minutes, fueled by momentum and bent on getting to the finish line. But there was one big obstacle in the way … that three-mile hill that Kate and I went up at the beginning of the race. Only this time, it was backwards … and I already knew how badly it hurt to go downhill!

To make matters worse, I knew that they closed the race at the eight hour mark. So I essentially had an hour and fifteen minutes to somehow get three miles downhill with no ankle and no knee. I wasn’t sure how it was going to happen, but I knew it would … so I re-wrapped both appendages, said a quick prayer, did some stretches, popped in my headphones, and set out.

To my surprise, I was able to find a pace and stride that barely hurt … it was slow, but I was pretty sure that it would work! So I turned up the music and sang along. And time after time, I was amazed by the appropriateness of the songs that came onto my iPod.

I’m not afraid to fall
It means I climbed up high
To fall is not to fail
You fail when you don’t try …

[Get Up, by Superchick]

I sang along at the top of my lungs as I walked, enjoying the fresh mountain air and the freedom that I felt. All of the locals cracked up as I passed, and I think I actually scared some of the other runners as they descended the hill past me.

You’re on the verge of a miracle, just standing there
You’re on the verge of a miracle, just waiting to be believed in
Open your eyes and see … you’re on the verge of a miracle …

[Verge of a Miracle, by Rich Mullins]

Then, as I neared the bottom of the hill, the perfect song came on:

The sun has gone down and the moon has come up
And long ago somebody left with the cup
But he’s driving, and striving, and hugging the turns
And thinking of someone for whom he still burns
He’s going the distance …

[Going the Distance, by Cake]

Indeed. And at seven hours, fourty one minutes, and thirty seconds, I crossed the finish line.

• Four hours and eighteen minutes after the winner.
• 39th out of 39 finishers in my age group.
• 267th out of 274 male finishers.
• 385th out of 397 total finishers.

But my goal wasn’t to win.
My goal was to finish.
And I dominated that goal!

[all photos via GWM]

Posted to webeldotnet on Thursday, May 24th, 2007 at 1:56 am EST in Stories & Sports (comment feed). If you refer to this post on your blog, please trackback. Thanks!