I know that my Periclean alumni and students at Elon would be disappointed if I did not conclude this experience without a reflection (no matter how brief), so here I will go.
What now?
1. PERICLEAN PROGRAM
For those looking for the next great blog inspired and sponsored by the Periclean program, please visit these two sites:
http://habitatzambia.wordpress.com - Dan and Amanda return to Zambia on January 3 as leaders of a new cohort, to build houses with Zambia in a new village.
http://www.csr-nonprofit.org/ - The Periclean Class of 2012 is hosting the CSR Nonprofit Summit as the centerpiece of their winter term abroad.
As always, you are welcome to visit the Periclean home page to learn even more about activities (past, present, and future) and impacts.
2. RUNNING
I met my primary goal of completing my first marathon. When I stuck my 26.2 sticker on my car, it felt like I had just purchased a membership that I need to start renewing immediately.
I will likely take at least one year away from marathoning. The reason I say this is because, unfortunately, I am still not completely healed from the MCM. Two days after the race, I knelt down funny and felt a sharp pain in my left quad - a pain that still comes up whenever I do a long run. (This was the same day that I had a fire drill at work. I had to walk down 8 flights of stairs. What a nightmare!) I was in pain all over that week, so I expected it all to go away, but the quad pain remains. It is mostly because of this that my volume has dropped, and I have replaced some runs with backwards elliptical training. It has gotten better, but it is not 100% back to normal yet.
I have signed up for a couple more races, so my running for 2012 will continue. I will do the Dash for Dad in June, sponsored by the Pacers running store at Pentagon Row. I also plan to do the Sea Girt 5K again and finally run the Wild Half Marathon that got postponed due to Hurricane Irene.
Now that I have baseline times at many distances, I can try and set PRs (personal records). My best times are:
23:36 - 5K
53:41 - 10K
1:51:02 - Half Marathon
4:13:34 - Marathon
Perhaps 2012 will give me a new PR!
3. FUNDRAISING
My marathon raised $716 for the Periclean program. To all who donated, thank you - your contributions toward this program have humbled me.
The fundraising site is still live, so if there is anyone out there who still wishes to make a contribution in honor of my marathon, please know that it will not go unnoticed. I will write an acknowledgement as with past donors, and the funds will further the visions and projects that have impacted hundreds of thousands worldwide.
You may notice that my goal of building one house is yet to be achieved. Because of this, I may take future races as an opportunity to build that house. Stay tuned...
I offer my most sincere gratitude to my younger brother, Luke, for contributing to the Periclean Scholars Alumni Association in honor of my marathon accomplishment. Not only is he my brother, but he is also a conduit of success for me.
I was able to achieve success before and after the marathon in part due to Luke. Without someone to chase around and play sports with as a kid, I probably would not have been as active throughout my life and would have been less likely to undertake the marathon challenge. Without Luke coming out to watch the marathon, I probably would not have found my family so close after the race. Since he is so tall, I was able to pick him out of the crowd. Upon finding him, I was able to borrow his jacket, so I avoided hypothermia after the race.
Me & Luke, post-marathon (after I got my bag with my own jacket)
Luke, I am honored that you have contributed to the PSAA, to make a difference in the lives of some who I know through my work at Zambia and connections to Elon, as well as many whom I do not, but are Periclean partners and community members in partner nations.
I must preface my race report by saying that I will probably edit it quite a few times as memories come back to me. It was a long day with a lot going on!
Race morning began at 5:30 a.m., when I woke up to a throat closed by mucus. I had been fighting off this cold all week, and it was a little worse than previous days. Luckily, I did not have a fever, and my aches and congestion were contained to my head. I did a warm salt water gargle and took a vitamin C tablet to help with the pain.
I proceeded to get dressed in my marathon outfit - red race tank with bib number, teal Under Armour top, black tights, New Balance 860 sneakers, socks, sports bra, gloves, and... ear warmers? I misplaced my ear warmers, so it took an extra 5 minutes or so to locate them. I grabbed my marathoners' bag and Nathan water bottle (covered in my Habitat for Humanity Global Village bandana from Zambia) and headed downstairs when my parents called to indicate they had arrived.
We walked down to Metro to see what the wait would be like. If there was no line, we would head to Rosslyn for a picture with the Arlington Road Runners. If there was a line, we would head directly for the Pentagon. Since there was nobody there, we headed to Rosslyn and made our way to the Starbucks for the picture and a bathroom stop.
We missed the group photo, but we did get one before the race start!
The group headed from Rosslyn toward the start on VA 110, N. Jefferson Davis Hwy. As we walked down, we saw the helicopter flyover:
MV-22s perform a flyover before the race start
I began to panic as we couldn't find the UPS trucks. It turned out we had to head a bit further south than the starting corrals to find the trucks. Kate, Jason, and I maneuvered to the trucks together. I popped my Imodium, took off my sweatpants, and handed my bag to the Marine managing the truck.
As we walked toward the start in the group, I tucked in my shoelaces as my final precaution before starting...
...and I fastened my Smart ID from the ARRC to my sneaker.. just in case.
We weaved through the crowds to get as close to the 4 hour corral as possible. We made it to about the 4:45 one when the gun went off and the race began. Luckily, there were thousands of runners that had to start, so we had a little extra time to maneuver forward. In the waves, Kate and I turned around and appeared to lose Jason. We waited a little bit and looked everywhere to try and find him, but eventually we gave up and just kept on moving forward.
About eight minutes after the start time, Kate and I crossed the start line. She stared at me and screamed, "We're actually doing this!" Indeed, those first steps would be the start of 26.2 miles. I looked up on the hill to the right and I saw my parents holding the big signs they made for me and Jason.
You can see my parents with their signs at 0:25 in this video.
My parents proceeded across the Arlington Memorial Bridge (the one where I fell and got scraped up in training).
My dad holds up the sign he made for me.
I continued along the race course - through Arlington, to Lyon Village, and across the Key Bridge. Kate and I stuck together and maneuvered through the crowds. It was the only way we could go a decent pace, as it was packed. At some points in the early miles, sidewalks were available for use. We hopped on them when we either could not find openings or when the road seemed slippery. The most slippery points were in the beginning: the first large hill that, with the glow of the sun, made it seem like we were ascending into heaven; and the Key Bridge, which was probably not salted properly the night prior.
As we crossed the Key Bridge into DC and headed left, we saw the elite runners coming back into Georgetown (going the opposite direction of us). That sight really put their speed into perspective. Running along Canal Road, we passed the Clif pace group for 4 hours, 15 minutes. In my opinion, they were not maximizing their energy right; they took the hills at the same slow pace as the flat terrain, and they stopped for each water break. Either way, we passed them. We also came across a Wheaties box and two men dressed as penguins. The penguin getup included the yellow webbed feet, which made for some interesting shoes. We made it up the very steepest hill of the race, and then we flew back down in the direction of Georgetown. Along the way, I smelled barbecue and saw unofficial water and snack stops. I even saw a table of children giving out Girl Scout Cookies. I saw a bright yellow sign here that said, "It's okay if you pee on yourself!" with a winky face. I ignored the sign, as I had not indeed been stung by a jellyfish (or had any pressing desire to go to the bathroom).
Upon arriving at M Street in Georgetown, I felt like we were in an inverse parade: we were watching the entertainment on the sidelines, yet we were the ones moving through the streets. There were bands, DJs, enthusiastic crowds, and more. This was a great place to get lost in the moment. When we came out of Georgetown, the crowd support was still exceptional. I heard people on the sidelines saying, "Look, there's a zombie!" Kate and I were a bit confused, until we realized that a man in front of us was indeed dressed as a zombie. Then, we had a great convergence of spectator and running worlds, when we passed a sign that said, "Zombies are behind you, keep running". At that point, I said, "No, the zombies are in front of me." The man dressed as a zombie heard me, so he made a creepy face and pretended to lunge after me and go after my brains. I screamed and jumped a little, but then I laughed and continued on. It didn't break my stride; it added a little extra pep.
Around this point, I also noticed the medical station. I thought that they were just for the injured, but it turns out they had another function; they handed out sticks with Vaseline on them, in case any runners experienced chafing along the course. Luckily, I did not chafe at all throughout the race, so I passed on each swig of Vaseline. Kate said that she thought they were candy; that Vaseline would have been a disaster to eat during the marathon. I laughed and we continued on.
We made our first pass of the Lincoln Memorial and down to Hains Point, a part of the course I had mentally prepared myself for over the course of many months.
Focused on succeeding at Hains Point
I was prepared to see nobody at Hains Point, so this expectation made each spectator sighting extra special. It was not, in fact, deserted, although compared to the parade-like quality of the rest of the marathon, it might have seemed like it to some. Hains Point had an abundance of cowbell and rowdy cheering sections. On the way north from Hains Point, out of nowhere, there were Jason's parents! What a pleasant surprise it was to see them - at a point in the course that was so tough, they were perfectly positioned.
At about the 15 mile mark, I began to feel the weight of the distance. I became more aware of tightening in my quads and calves, and I felt a greater need to consume Powerade. I asked Kate how she felt, and I said I was starting to hurt - that I needed to slow down. No worries, we slowed down but just a tinge according to the Garmin. I knew that I was putting forth my best effort, but I never reached a point of dizziness or needing to stop.
We passed by the Tidal Basin and its bridge. As we made our turn toward the National Mall, I saw my parents with their massive "GO JILL" sign. After the race, my parents told me two things: 1) Next to them, there was Stardust the Miniature Horse. I was so in the zone that I completely missed it and just saw my sign. 2) Runners that saw the "GO JILL" sign would scream "Go Jill!" when they ran past my parents. Even the other runners were cheering for me!
As we ran toward the mall, I remember hitting the 18 mile mark and thinking to myself, "Eight more miles of this nonsense?" I would have made a sailor proud with the thoughts going through my head. Around this point, I saw a great spectator sign that said, "I thought they said 2.62 miles". This inspired me to beat myself at my own mental game: I would take the eight miles as if it were a series of four 2-mile races. I could do this; a 2-mile race is a piece of cake. I headed down familiar streets and passed common landmarks. As we approached the Capitol, a fellow runner (who must have been from out of town) said, "Isn't it a beautiful building?" I had to agree - living and working in this area tends to desensitize me to the beauty around me, but it is indeed beautiful.
As we headed west, I thought that it was good that I hadn't seen too many people I knew, as I would not want to smile and wave and be cheery. I was working hard. Then I saw a row of cameras and had no choice but to smile and laugh and do something silly:
Can you tell I'm struggling? No? Good!
We ran up Jefferson Drive, SW, and I passed the museums that I see every day at work. I kicked myself for not telling my coworkers to watch outside of this location. It was bustling and full of spectators and bands, including one called the School of Rock. Ahead of us on the left, we approached 14th Street. The crowds roared along the echo of the drum line, as we got fired up to reach the 14th Street Bridge - the all-important point in the marathon. To reach the 14th Street Bridge is to be near guaranteed of a finish. On 14th Street, I continued to give my maximum effort without hitting the wall, although it was not fast enough to stay with Kate. She continued on ahead of me and ended up with a great finishing time about 10 minutes in front of me.
I had been used to running the George Mason Bridge to get across the Potomac River, but the 14th Street Bridge must have been four times its size. That bridge held the most dramatic (and mixed) reactions among the runners that I had seen. For many, it meant that they had reached their victory and they could finally start walking; for others, it meant that they only had a short distance left to the finish and a new spurt of energy was born. I maintained my pace; my goal was to finish in a respectable time, of course, but my new goal was to not walk the entire race. This kept me steady and smart.
We exited the bridge and headed toward Crystal City. I prepared myself to see runners coming north as we were going south; however, I had not prepared myself to go as far south as we did! We went all the way down to 23rd Street, which I knew from training was a long way away from the finish. In Crystal City, the crowds were strong as in Georgetown, and they were more willing to go out on a limb to interact with the runners. Many gave out food, candy, and drinks along the way. Crystal City was also where they had the race's official Dunkin Donuts Munchkin station; if I had taken one, I think I would have hurled. In Crystal City, I also saw Elyse - well, I know now that I saw her! I heard her voice scream "Go Jill!" I looked back briefly and saw someone that looked like her, so I was nearly certain it was her. In spite of the crowd support, I was still fighting the toughest fight I have fought so far. I knew I had to maintain a respectable pace as long as my body would allow me to do so; to give anything less than my best would be unacceptable. I could rest later, because, as they say, "pain is temporary but pride is forever".
It wasn't long before we reached the Doubletree with the Skydome, a landmark that has special meaning for me (as I stayed there as a high school freshman while at a soccer tournament). Around this point I was clear out of Powerade, but I was still thirsty. I started to take water at the water stations, but I still refused to walk. I was not afraid to let water splash on me, as I had gotten pretty hot through the many miles. I was reaching my goal. Only a couple of miles left - a short recovery run's away from victory. The Marines that lined the road barked orders and encouraged me every step of the way; I said thank you with each water cup grabbed, and I tried to put myself in their shoes as I passed them. How could I let a Marine down? I would tough it out and be worthy of sharing the same roads as them.
The highway took us past the Pentagon. At this point, I saw a sign that said "9-11 Memorial Highway". For some reason, I never knew it was called this. My mind flashed to an article I read about the first MCM after 9/11 and how brave those runners must have been to run past the Pentagon in repair. This, along with subsequently running past the white tombstones and gravesites at Arlington National Cemetery, magnified the dimension of sacrifice in the race. What was my pain, compared to that of our national heroes? My pain was temporary; it would last only fifteen or twenty more minutes. I would soon see victory, glory, and a completed goal, whereas our heroes could not fulfill their remaining goals. They would be looking on from heaven. I forged on toward the finish.
The 26 mile sign, to me, was the first sign of victory. Yet, having studied the race course, I knew that the hardest part was about to hit me: the steep uphill of the 0.2. I would leave it all on the road. As I ran up the hill, I saw my parents in the grandstands with the "GO JILL" sign, and I acknowledged them with a fist pump that would make most New Jersey folk proud. It wasn't long before I crossed that line and put my hands up in celebration of victory.
Approaching the finish line!
After I crossed the finish line, I heard many loud groans from everyone nearby - as if we had each just experienced something traumatic, like a limb being cut off or a gunshot. I didn't cry or show any sort of new emotion, as I had nothing left to give. We all continued to walk until we received our space blanket and medal, each handed to us by a Marine.
I earned my space blanket and medal!
My primary urge and desire was to get some fluids in me, fast. After the blanket and medal stations - which were very crowded and seemed to take forever - the next station was Gatorade. I skipped this one in favor of the water station a few feet down. Aaaahhh. That was the most delicious water I have ever tasted.
I continued to walk down along with the rest of the runners, until I found a corner in Rosslyn where I could just sit and stretch things out for a bit. After a short while, I got up and found Luke and Olivia in the crowds. Once we reunited with my parents, we went to claim my bag at the UPS truck in Rosslyn. My body temperature was dropping rapidly, so I went inside a building and put on some new clothes.
Warming up in Rosslyn.
We then proceeded to the Brown Bag, the closest place that was open for a quick meal. I ate half a tuna sandwich and drank a blueberry lemonade. By the time we left, my body temperature was regulated and I was okay to start walking again.
The convergence of ginger bread cookie and cookie monster.. somehow I'm still walking!
I walked toward the finish line to see Jason finish. I had tracked him on my phone, so I knew his estimated time of arrival. I was so proud that he would make his goal of finishing and happy that I would be there to cheer him on. He looked dead - just as dead as I'm sure I did - but he finished!
We made it!
With this race closes one of the brightest chapters in my personal history book. I ran my first marathon, the Marine Corps Marathon (my current hometown marathon). All of the sacrifices made through training paid off. I finished with a respectable 4:13:34 and never stopped to walk or stretch once. I left it all on the road. Yes, I still have some lingering pain, but it is indeed temporary. The pride that comes from this race will live forever.
Many thanks to Chris Jeans for supporting Periclean Scholars in honor of my marathon accomplishment. Mandy and I are lucky to have caring neighbors like you that show genuine interest in how we are doing outside of puppy play time. Your contribution to the PSAA will have many positive impacts on campus, in the community, and in the global arena.
Before I say anything about my marathon experience, I must first thank everyone who helped me to get there:
Thank you to the Periclean Scholars, partners, and mentors, including Tom and Steve, for being a constant source of inspiration along my training runs and during the marathon. I am proud of all you have done and will continue to do for our communities and for the world.
Thank you to everyone who came out to the race to support me, including my entire family, Elyse, Jason's family, and more friends, family, and coworkers whom I did not see on the course, including my cousins Kristen and Kerianne.
Thank you to everyone who donated to Periclean Scholars and everyone who will donate now that I have accomplished this goal.
Thank you to so many of my coworkers and friends for showing interest in my running and asking me for running/workout advice.
Thank you to Kate from the Arlington Road Runners for pacing with me for so much of today's marathon.
Thank you to Jason to introducing me to the Arlington Road Runners, for running with me during training, and for being a constant source of strength and inspiration.
Thank you to all of the Arlington Road Runners for support on many long runs.
Thank you to Alex at the FAA for being an inspiration back in February to run this marathon.
Thank you to all of my friends who posted on my blog and offered advice, such as Steve, Sarah, CJ, Megan, and more.
Thank you to God and Jesus, through whom this marathon was possible and without whom nothing is possible.
When I have the energy, I will detail today's marathon experience, but for now, the essentials:
I finished in 4:13:34, which was enough to beat Drew Carey (at 4:37:10).
I hit some sort of wall HARD around mile 15. Everything got tight, breathing got a little harder, and I had to suck down Powerade at a more rapid rate. At the half marathon point, my splits were good and I felt pretty good, but as I continued on, my only goal was to finish without walking. I am glad to say I accomplished that goal.
The signs were hilarious, the crowd support was strong, and I could not have imagined a better marathon experience.
Today's post in the exemplary global citizens series addresses the synergy between the global and the local:
Seven, an exemplary global citizen appreciates and understands the tension between a global citizen and a local citizen, and plays both roles in a synergistic fashion. The local is always related to the global, and vice versa. A global citizen takes seriously the words of Dr. Paul Farmer, co-founder of Partners in Health, who said, “Humanity is the only true nation.”
We hear it all the time now - the world is getting flatter, smaller, and more competitive. What we do at home no longer impacts those just in our community; we need to think about the impacts and influences from partners and competitors all across the world.
The combination of global and local has created the hybrid word "glocalization". By its definition, a glocal citizen thinks globally and acts locally. This citizen takes perspectives and potential consequences from around the world and integrates them into his/her decision making.
Indeed, one can be global in his/her day-to-day activities, especially when consciously internalizing and learning from past experiences with different cultures. Many believe that they are not not “global” unless all they do is fly to different places. However, whenever you go somewhere or hear a new perspective, you internalize it and make it a part of your own. You make the global relevant to the part of the world where you are at the given moment.
When I think of glocalization, I think of the traffic situation display that air traffic controllers view. You see planes from all over flying out and coming in, with various points as hubs. This video gives a good idea of the concept, for the entire world:
Imagine that you are a dot on the map, right where you are now. I will pretend I am a dot in Washington, DC. Right now, my central focus point is in DC - all planes go to me and come out from me at that point in DC. I can carry influences from all over, but my impact is in DC. Now, let's pretend that you physically take a flight on a plane to a different point in the world, such as to Lusaka, Zambia. Suddenly, the point that is "local" for you changes. To act locally, you would be acting in Lusaka and no longer in DC. You would still bring influences from all over, but a place you once thought of as global would become the local.
The Periclean program changes the focus point for students and makes the global local through service that creates broader perspectives. Through the program, I have found that yes, you can have a greater global impact by engaging in the world through service in many different areas. However, you can have a different (and in many cases, equivalent) impact by bringing perspectives from all over into your local community. When we made our countries of focus our "local" for a period of time, it enabled us to bring stronger multicultural perspectives to our homes - places that are local for us year-round.
How do we work to spread glocalization? Not everyone can go on a Periclean trip, but everyone can speak up and work locally. Challenge those who think that their little world, their own activities do not impact everyone else. Help those around you to see the bigger picture and the necessity of becoming glocal - in a way that makes sense to them.
I know that many of you had been eagerly anticipating the day I would wear a chitenge to work. (The chitenge is the traditional Zambian dress, and I wore one each day while serving in the country.) Well, that day happened... today! Since I had not made my goal, I didn't wear the red, white, and blue chitenge; I wore the red and orange one.
Welcome to the FAA!
Wearing the chitenge to work so close to the race helped to put me in the right state of mind. Every person I spoke to about Periclean Scholars as a result of wearing this chitenge made me believe I had done the right thing in choosing it as my beneficiary. Even on my very last work day before the marathon, awareness of the program and its benefits to the global community rose significantly. I believe that I am running for the right group, and I believe that people will continue to support me this close to the marathon.
Here are a couple of extra items from work that I thought you, the readers, would enjoy - and would not require a security clearance for you to view:
The stop sign at my desk - used in emergency evacuations, it is a "Start" sign the rest of the time.
My MCM countdown that I started 100 days out. We only have two more days left!
Federal employees are very giving. They take part in the Combined Federal Campaign (CFC) at the end of each year.
Very true!
My chitenge day reminded me, once again, of just how powerful the influence of those around me has been. My family and friends donated to get me to wear the chitenge to work, which inspired me to write strong posts about the Periclean program for their education. My coworkers asked me about my race and about how to get in better shape, which inspired me to be a model marathoner-in-training for their benefit. These words of encouragement cement my place as a global citizen who uses running as a tool to better not only herself, but the organizations and people she cares most about.
Thank you for the inspiration to wear the chitenge to work, and for challenging me each and every day to live up to and exceed expectations for myself as a human being, runner, and global citizen.
