RACE REPORT: Marine Corps Marathon #3

Submitted by: Elaine Weisner. A letter to her mom.

Dear Mom,

The day before the Marine Corps Marathon, Misty and I checked into our hotel room, and Brad picked us up and took us to Arlington National Cemetery to visit Dad’s grave. As I knelt beside his grave, tears came to my eyes, and I knew it would be an emotional week-end.

We went to the Expo to pick up our race packets, and then went to an early dinner with Joan, Roy and Misty’s family. We got back to the hotel early to get everything ready. I made sure I had Dad’s dog tag with my gear. I pinned my number onto my shirt that said; Running in memory of Capt. George J. Pidgeon, USMC Ret. “Dad”

The next morning we got up at 5:00 AM. We walked to the runner’s village to check our bags in. Before we headed to the start, I took a few quiet moments on the grass beside the Potomac River, to say a pray to God, and to talk to Dad. I asked Dad to be with me during the race, and again my eyes teared up. As I got up from the grass in the predawn darkness, I saw two marines walking toward me, one male, and one female. One of them said, “We just wanted to make sure you’re alright.” I said, “Yes. I’m fine. I just wanted a moment of peace.” I felt like Dad had sent those marines to check on me, and to let me know everything would be alright.

The starting line was very crowded with much excitement in the air. There was a flyover from two jets, the Star Spangled Banner was played, and the cannon from WWII signaled the start of the race! Misty and I stood there, because the crowd around us was not able to move. It would be 20 minutes, before we would cross the start line. (Our individual time is measured by an electronic chip attached to our shoe.)

We felt good as we started jogging. I had Dad’s name on the back of my shirt, and there were many others who were running in memory of a loved one, some with pictures on the back of their shirts. There were marines everywhere, passing out water and cheering us on. We were able to spot Brad and Misty’s family at several spots along the course. The course was beautiful as it ran along the Potomac, the Washington monument, Jefferson Memorial and the sites of DC.

Misty’s knee started bothering her in the first half of the race. She had done so well during our training without any significant problems. Surprise! You never know what a marathon will bring. She told me to go on ahead, but I said we were fine. We walked a while, and then resumed jogging. Her knee continued to give her trouble from time to time, and again she would tell me to go on. She always seemed to find the strength to get back into a good jogging pace.

At mile 17, we saw the White House, but I saw something even better. Brad was there, and said, “Would ya’ll like some company?” At this point in the race, you’re as tired mentally as you are physically. We jogged along with Brad, and listened when he told us we could take a walking break, and when we needed to jog.

The bottoms of my feet were so tired at mile 20. I felt for Dad’s dog tag several times during the race, and it gave me strength. I questioned would I ever want to do a marathon again. I saw a sign that said “Pain is Temporary, Pride is Forever.” I’m sure Dad must have had a lot of painful moments when he was in the Marines, but what I remember, is the great pride he had in being part of the Marines.

After we crossed mile 25 Misty was ahead of me, with Brad ahead of her. I saw Misty’s leg bobble, and thought she might fall. She said her knee was giving way, and for me to go on. I said we could walk. She could hold on to me, and I could be a crutch. She said no. I said the most moving thing I could think of, “You never leave a fallen marine corps marathoner!” She still said no, and that this was my race, and she wanted me to go on. I offered to have Brad and I on both sides of her, but she said she would go in at her pace, and wanted me to finish strong. When Brad looked back, I waved for him to come back, and asked him to stay with Misty.

As I jogged ahead, I thought to myself, I’m finishing the race with Dad, and I felt again for his dog tag. I heard someone say, “We have less than ½ a mile to go.” I soon saw the 26 mile marker. (Only two tenths of a mile to go.) I scanned the crowd looking for Joan, Roy, and Misty’s family. I saw the big arch with Finish. I high fived the good looking marine and I crossed the finish line with a smile on my face. I looked ahead and saw the Iwo Jima Memorial, and tears came to my eyes.

I finished in 5 hours, 8 minutes and 8 seconds, a new personal record. Misty moved as quickly as she could with one stiff leg, with the crowd cheering her on. Wounded, but not defeated, she finished 2 minutes behind me. We went to get our metals, and felt a sense of pride not only in ourselves, but in the marines who put them on us, and what they represent.

With all my love,

Elaine