The Great Wall Marathon 2005, China

Ok, now I understand starter pistols. A couple of years ago if someone had said "you have to fly half-way 'round the world, get up at 2 a.m. to catch a bus for a 3 hour drive north into the mountains, endure the indignity of using a hole that is only called a "toilet" for reference, then run up and down jumbly stairs and dirt roads for 26+ miles and YOU have to pay for it," I'da thought:

"Not without a gun to my head."

Luckily I lost my mind years ago, so I can now claim to have survived the Great Wall Marathon. Barely.

It started out promisingly considering my support "team" (i.e. my sister, Tracy) and I had to get up so dang early to get out to the starting point. There was a lot of bunting and traditional dancers and things to greet us once we arrived. Then they cranked up the music and led us off with some Chinese version of aerobics to warm us up and make us all get used to looking foolish in front of each other. A long line of officials in sashes welcomed us to the Wall and thanked us for helping their economy. You know...lot's of applause lines.

And then we were off.

The first 3.7 miles were all uphill, which was not so fun, but then we got to our first 3 miles of the Wall, which was. Restored Wall, ruined Wall, rocky Wall, goat trails...very memorable.

I was feeling pretty good by the time I came down off the Wall and Tracy was in the right place at the right time when I re-entered the square. As I ran by I was able to tell her how much fun I was having. (At the time I was still thinking "this is the most fun, ever," actually, and yelled it out to her as I went by.)

But by the uphill at the midway point with pulled ham-strings and charley horses in my calves I started rethinking that statement. It was pretty slow going for awhile.

I teamed up for a bit with a Danish guy who was pretty optimistic about the whole experience. He had some sort of stomach problem so he'd written out all the "rest-stop" locations on his arm, just to be safe (though judging by the latrine at the start, clearly any old ditch would do.) And yet even with stomach-distress he could outrun me, so eventually I sent him on his way and I started concentrating on getting back to the Wall. Thought it might be easier to climb instead of run.

Hmmm.

By the time I got back on the Wall at mile 20 it was as if I'd never actually learned to walk...it was a real misery to climb. I was all huff and puff and absolutely useless. It was cold and windy and threatening rain by this point and I wasn't sure if I wanted to cry or vomit or both. At least I wasn't the only one bent over using my hands to climb the stairs, but it seemed like so many people were able to breeze by me that I felt like a real failure.

Somehow for the 3.7 miles back downhill I was able to start running again, though not fast, and I was able to overtake a few people. (By this point it was raining so I was happy to at least be off the Wall).

My time was no where near what I'd hoped, but I should probably cut myself some slack. I've never done a marathon before and by the time I was pulling myself up the Wall on the second loop (literally pulling by rope on some of the ruined sections) I had surpassed any distance I'd ever attempted before.

And the people were amazing. Runners helping each other, encouraging each other, caring for each other. When I was tired an Australian girl stopped to share her water with me. A villager handed me a roll and I broke it up and shared it with the people around me. And when I stumbled on the wall-less section a Chinese volunteer grabbed me in such a bear-hug that I'll never know if I would have fallen over the edge if he weren't there.

It was an unforgettable memory with the Wall and the villages and the villagers cheering us on. Everyone yelling "hello" and some having learned the phrase "you are amazing." My legs may have given out but I never got too tired to appreciate the people.

What an incredible opportunity.