I thought to myself as I descended down the cement path into the quiet of the tunnel that would lead me into the Birds Nest. I had never been into the Olympic Stadium before but I had run through this tunnel thousands of times in my minds eye during training. For the past decade, whenever I ran through a tunnel I would always picture myself running into the Olympic Stadium, of course, in my dream world I was always winning the marathon, not struggling n 10th place. Nevertheless, as I made my way into the stadium I decided I would enjoy the moment. My eyes circled around the stadium in amazement. This is what I pictured heaven to be like.

Coming down the homestretch I saw a sea of red shirts that made up a group of 15 or so of my family members wearing the Hall Believe t-shirts. I waved to them as a sign of appreciation for all they had supported me through. It was comforting to see my family. It had been a difficult two hours and twelve minutes of running and this final stage of my Olympic marathon would be somewhat of a consolation. As it turned out it was one of the most memorable moments of my life.

My watch read 3:13 am when I first opened my eyes on August 24th. I had set my alarm for 4:30 am to be ready in time for the 7:30 am start but this was the day I had been waiting for my whole life and I was glad to have the night passed over and the day at hand. About half an hour after I woke up I heard a loud booming noise outside. I looked out the window and saw the most freakish lightening storm I had ever seen.

In hindsight I speculate that the Chinese may have seeded the sky because it was a super intense storm with lightening flashing brightly across the dawn sky for about ten minutes then there was torrential rain for two minutes and then it just seemed to vanish out of no where. It seems too random that there would be a freak thunderstorm just three hours before the start of the Olympic marathon. Regardless, I was glad for the clear skies and somewhat cooler temperatures.

We headed out to Tieneman Square on a bus at 5:30 am. The atmosphere was buzzing. I jogged for seven minutes with Dathan and Brian. The mood was lighthearted as we circled around on the cobblestones near the starting line. The temperature was slowly starting to rise so we slapped on our ice vests in an attempt to keep our core temperature low.

Finally I was here. After years of struggle and wanting to throw in the towel I had made it to the start of the Olympic marathon. I took a minute to remember all the American guys back at home that hoped to be on the starting line. I wanted to do my best to represent them well. I fell to one knee and prayed, “Lord, I will do my very best for you no matter what happens out there.” A few minutes later the gun fired.

From the very first hundred meters Samuel Wanjiru, of Kenya, made it clear that he was feeling good. He sprinted straight to the front and asserted a fast pace. During those opening kilometers I was forced to make a tough decision: either go with the leaders and hope that I wasn’t committing suicide or try and win by out smarting the lead pack knowing that they had gone out too hard and wait for them to slow in the later stages.

I knew that above all I had to listen to my body, the pace felt fast and my breathing felt heavy, and when I finally saw the first 5k split (I never saw a mile or kilometer split before 5k) of just over 15 minutes I knew that I couldn’t go out any harder than I was running. I also knew that if I kept running three minutes per kilometer I would win the race, however, much to my surprise three minutes per kilometer would have only earned me the silver medal.

I figured the best plan was to run similarly to how I raced the World Road Running Championships in 2006 when I went out way slower than the leaders and worked my way up to a top ten finish. I saw my coach at 10k and he affirmed that the leaders went out too hard. He was right, the leaders did go out at a pace that they couldn’t hold to the finish, but unfortunately for me, even before I hit the half way point I felt my legs tiring and tightening. I just wasn’t as fluid or strong as I had been in previous marathons.

By 30k I pretty much knew, by the sight of the helicopter in the distance following the leaders that I was slowing down more than the leaders. There would be no medals for me this time around. I set my mind on the only thing I could still accomplish in the race: giving 100% of all that I had on the day. I may not have my “A” game but I was determined to give all of whatever game I brought on the day.

In hindsight I wish that I had gone out with the leaders and just hung as long as possible. I think the way I ran was smarter and probably did yield a higher finish than if I had gone out two minutes harder for the opening half, but part of me also wonders if I would have been more excited being with the leaders and been able to rally with some supernatural strength and pull off a medal.

Although, if I would have blown up I know I would have been telling myself that if I would have just went out slower I could have held the pace all the way to the line. In the end, I wasn’t physically on top of my game. I had put in a lot of hard work but for whatever reason my training hadn’t been nearly as quality as in my previous marathons. I was running my tempo runs 10-15 seconds slower than my typical. As an athlete this can be hard to swallow. When the big day arrives I want to have my very best, so naturally it is disappointing to only have my B, or C, game.

After the race the disappointment was setting in, especially when I saw how fast Sammy ran. I couldn’t believe that 2:06 was possible in those conditions. He clearly owned the day. It was also disappointing because I knew I had run with those guys before and had been able to hang till late, yet today I was six minutes back and six minutes back from my personal best.

It is going to take some time to figure out why my preparations weren’t as good as typical. Was it the pressure and anticipation of my first Olympics? Was it living apart from Sara? Am I just not as good as others in the heat and humidity? Was I trying too hard in practice or not trying hard enough? Did I not take enough time off after London? Should I have run London? The hard part about running is there are so many variables that come into play. Trying to identify the ones that really impacted your performance on the day can make your head spin.

A little less than twelve hours after I ran into the Olympic stadium I hobbled back in to take part in the closing ceremonies. I stood just feet away from the three marathon medalist as they were presented their medals to kick off the closing ceremonies. At first I was bitter, I had worked so hard, sacrificed so much, and wanted so badly to be up there, but by the time the Kenyan national anthem had finished its last note my bitterness had melted into inspiration. I could see myself up on that podium. I know that it is possible with God, but even if it is not God’s will for my life I will still praise Him and make the most of the gifts He has given me. What the Olympics has taught me is that I need to live a life surrendered to the will of God. It is my prayer that I will be able to have the same heart as Christ before He was nailed to the cross, “not my will, but Your will be done.”

It’s a good thing Monday’s come only once a week

I could write a whole book on the lessons I have learned from marathon training. I feel like every time I build up for a marathon I get a whole life’s worth of wisdom from just three grueling months of training. These past couple of weeks have been filled with ups and downs. One day I will be doing a 13-mile tempo run feeling strong and filled with energy. The very next day I will be doing close to two hours of running (split between two runs) and feel like I couldn’t take on a recreational jogger. Deena has routinely been dropping me on my easy runs, but its ok, I can take it, she is a bronze medalist after all.

This past weekend was a big for me. I ran a 13-mile tempo run (hard run) on Friday and then came back on Sunday with a grueling 2-½ hour long run. My long runs are usually very hard, but this one topped them all. I was working hard from the beginning, visualizing myself running in Beijing. It was easy to see myself there running in conditions similar to the 80-degree temperature we started in and 90-degree temperature we finished in. It was great to have my wife Sara along on the bike for the last hour of the run. I always visualize her riding next to me when I am racing. It calms my spirit. When I finished I told Sara that I really hope the marathon doesn’t take 2 ½ hours in Beijing. But it was a great run for me to practice running hard for that duration. I feel very prepared for Beijing.

On Monday I was tired. After enjoying a casual run, and I do mean casual, I couldn’t keep my eyes upon till lunch. I crashed out for an hour nap before lunch and then tacked on an extra two-hour snooze that afternoon. Recovery is a huge part of marathon training and it isn’t all napping, either. There is stretching, icing, massage, and proper nutrition that all go into proper recovery.

Monday’s are the hardest days of the week for me; I just try and keep my sanity. After all that napping I did feel better on my afternoon run but once we hit the gym my energy was once again lagging. Sara just laughs at me in the gym on such days when I am pretty much useless. On Monday’s I just tell myself to make it through the day.

One thing that keeps me going even on the Mondays is the thought of the lives in Africa that I hope to change through my efforts. I am reading a book right now called The End of Poverty, and it has really opened my eyes to the underlying causes and possible solutions to some of the injustices in the world today. I have decided to commit my race in Beijing to the World Vision projects in Africa, and we’ve even made a new website, www.ryanhall.org, that tells how you can get involved. Having this as a goal gets me out the door even on the most tiring Mondays.

I am always surprised when Tuesday rolls around and we head up to Lake Mary at 9,000 feet to do an interval session and I feel good. I closed my last 800 meter repeat in 2:10, which I like to think of being worth at least 1:50 at sea level (I wish). Regardless, it was good to get some snap back in my legs and set myself up well for the remainder of the week. My energy level feels much better today, Wednesday, and I feel ready to finish off the last really hard week of training before Beijing. Next week I travel to China so I will have to make some adjustments in my training. Then there will only be two weeks to go and the taper will begin.

I can’t wait to get over there, not only because of the excitement of competing in the Olympics but also so I can run in shorts and no shirt again. For the past couple of weeks I have been running in black running pants and long sleeve shirts. Knowing that I am going to have to bundle up for the 80 degree afternoon sessions don’t not exactly make me feel like heading out the door but I know that it is really working to help prepare me for the heat and humidity in Beijing.

I can already feel a notable difference when I am doing some hot weather running. I know that a lot of being successful in Beijing will have to do with my body’s ability to handle the conditions so I know that bundling up will be just as important as hitting those big workouts that we have scheduled week after week. It is going to be a battle out there in Beijing, not just against the competition but against the elements as well. Thankfully, the race isn’t on a Monday!

I learned something important about myself on a long run I recently completed a little over a week ago. My older brother (who is functioning as my full time trainer leading up to the Games) and I tried to get up early and beat the heat. However, by the time we started at 8 a.m. the roadside thermometer in town already read 80 degrees. The long run route would take me through my local neighborhoods for three miles and then around the lake for an additional 15 miles before hitting the dirt road that leads from my house at 6,700 ft. to Skyline, one of my favorite dirt roads in Big Bear, at nearly 8,000ft.

The reason it is called skyline is easy to understand when you are up on the rim of the world. When I am up there I feel like I am practically part of the bright blue sky that encompasses me.

Before I entered the land of “marathon,” I used to keep my easy runs pretty easy. Now, I feel that the long run is one of the most, if not the most, important components to marathon training, so I try and move along at a decent clip.  At the end of a 130-mile week, with 18 miles of relatively hard running under my belt in 80-degree temperatures I was tired. Running toward the hill I knew that I was in for a lot of pain.  I often say that the training for the marathon is more difficult than the race itself.  This session reproved my point.

A few minutes into the hill everything was burning. I was pumping my arms as hard as I could but it didn’t seem to help increase my pace. I tried focusing on pushing more with my calves then lifting with my quads. Nothing seemed to be working. It became dreadfully obvious that as bad as my mind wanted to sprint up the hill, my body had other plans, a system shutdown. I could begin to taste what I used to think was blood, but now understand to be lactic acid in my mouth resulting from my heavy breathing and I knew that I was maxed out.
Even though the dirt road winds its way through the pine tree filled mountains with no Y’s in the road, I had reached a juncture at this point in the run: either I could get discouraged with the reality that I am not able to think myself into sprinting up the hill or I could accept, and even relish, in the pain and discomfort running throughout my body and embrace the pain as part of my mission.

Then something happened that I have never experienced during any painful running session: a smile slowly crept across my face. It was kind of a weird reaction to have, but for some reason I felt very alive and there was a new joy that I found in simply going all out. It was a great feeling to know that I was pushing myself to the max, that at this moment I had looked deep into myself for strength and used whatever I could muster.

I may not have set any records on my long run. In fact, I have had better long runs, in terms of numbers, but I have never had a long run where I learned to embrace the pain like I did that day. To be honest, I usually get pretty nervous before big workouts where I know I will be going through a lot of pain. I realize that the nerves may not go away, but now I know that I can find joy in the most painful moments.  It is hard to describe the joy in going all out, but if you choose to embrace it I guarantee that you will want to go back over and over again.

Being that the marathon is all about pain management. I am always looking for ways to better handle the pain during those last few tough miles. I felt like I did a good job of pushing myself to the max in London. The main thought that helped me there was simply, “do your very best.”

In Beijing I am sure I will be thinking similar thoughts. One thing is for certain; during those final painful miles I will visualize myself back on this dirt road in Big Bear and remember the time I first smiled in the face of pain.

Ryan Hall’s Stats:

http://www.tilastopaja.org/db/atm.php?ID=38693

On a run a couple of days ago I found myself laughing at Kai (our miniature Siberian Husky) as she tore off through the woods in hot pursuit of yet another squirrel, only to be left at the bottom of the tree peering up as the hotly tempered squirrel rattled off some explicit sounds in its native tongue. I thought to myself, ‘why does she keep wasting her energy flying after squirrels when she has chased thousands of squirrels during her short life, yet never, ever, even been close to catching one?’

As I contemplated her spirit I realized that our spirits aren’t really different. I have been trying to run with the best runners in the world ever since I was able to enter the same race in which they were competing, and while I have never won a race that would give the honor of being crowned “the best in the world,” I still find myself tearing off after the world beaters as if I have never been unsuccessful in beating them.

When I watch Kai’s eyes as she spots a Squirrel I can see her come to attention as if I put a fat sausage in front of her nose and then I see her wheels turning. I know exactly what she is thinking because I have thought the same thing a million times.

“I am going after it.”

Then the trigger is pulled and we are off to the races. I think this is what Coach Vegil means when he says that all that matters on the starting line is having big eyes. I love that saying. All that matters on race day is being ready to go after it, to go to war.

What I love about “chasing squirrels” is that it doesn’t matter what your previous track record is, all that matters is that moment. Your past is completely behind you and the present is your opportunity to “take a swing”. If you can’t tell by now, I am a big fan of “taking a swing.” I don’t like to go away from races knowing that I didn’t leave my mark on the race by really going after it at some point. If I die, I die. I have died many times before, however, what I have learned to do very well over the years is simply to get up.

My favorite verse in the Bible comes from Proverbs 24.16 and says, “For a righteous man falls seven times, and rises again.” Being an Olympian is not about being perfect it is about picking yourself up out of the dirt and pouring yourself back into what you are doing, as if you never fell before.

I love the story of Noah Ngeny. I have to admit that I was rooting for Hicham El Guerrouj to win the 1500 meters in the 2000 Olympic games, but I was captivated by the fact that though Noah had raced El Guerrouj a number of times (I believe 12 times) he had never beaten him before until the final of the Olympic 1500. It would be easy to say that El Guerrouj “had his number”, but none of that mattered on race day because Noah wasn’t running with a broken spirit, as a defeated man would.

That day he ran as if he had never lost to El Guerrouj, and when push came to shove in the last 100 meters of the race Noah’s spirit was strong and he was able to do something he had never been able to do before. Noah had been beaten numerous times, but apparently he had never been defeated in spirit.

When I am all done with my career I plan to cross the finish line of the marathon take off my shoes at the finish and walk away having never been defeated. Not in the sense that I will have never lost a marathon, but in the sense that no matter how bad I have been beaten, my competitors will know that I will always show up to the starting line with fire in my eyes, ready for war, with a spirit that cannot be defeated.

I haven’t always had this spirit. It is something that I have had to feed throughout the years. With every poor performance I have grown stronger as I have picked myself up and gotten back up. This is not to say that I wasn’t rattled by poor performances, actually it has been very difficult for me to deal with disappointment. But dealing with it, and coming out the other end, is what overcoming is all about.

My wife knows well how rattled I can get in the hours and days after a bad competition, it can be hard to deal with “failure” when I have so much invested in the sport I love. But knowing now, that I can deal with whatever is thrown my way gives me the courage I need to be bold and courageous out on the race coarse and to “take my swing”, because I know that in my heart of hearts I can deal with the disappointment of coming up short and I know that, though it may take me awhile to collect myself, I will be back out there with fire in my eyes.

I am going to “take my swing” at some point in the Olympic Marathon, and it might result in gold and it might result in a lot of suffering and pain over the later stages of the race, but one thing I know for sure: I will walk away from the finish line satisfied that I wasn’t, and will never be, defeated.

With three months to go before the Olympics begin I am now putting the finishing touches on a vision that birthed 10 years ago during a long, slow, painful, 15-mile run around Big Bear Lake. Now, after all I have been through I have just 105 days to pour myself into my training and prepare for the biggest opportunity of my life. All the training, all the discipline, all the depression, all the sacrifice, all the joy; it was all part of the journey that has prepared me for August 24th.

I love the Olympics. I always have. Growing up I scribbled Olympic rings all over my textbooks. I find the symbolism of the rings to be quite dramatic with the five rings representing the unity of man from each of the five continents. There is something powerful about the unity of man.

Anyone who has ever been to a Boston Red Sox game knows what I am talking about. I had the privilege to go to a game before the Boston Marathon and I must say I have never seen a crowd go so crazy for their team. I could just feel the energy flowing in that stadium, and the players must have, too because when the crowd would start going crazy big things would happen on the field. Unity of man; it is a taste of heaven and that is what the Olympics is about.

This is also one reason why the marathon is such a special event. I always love to look behind me before the start of a marathon to see the masses lining up. They are all there with one mission. Sure, maybe each has their own goal or motivation but we are all there to test the limits of our body over 26.2 miles.

The Olympics is not only about unity but unity with a purpose. The Olympic slogan for the upcoming games is “One World One Dream.” The organizers describe this slogan as representing the Olympic spirit of “Unity, Friendship, Progress, Harmony, Participation and Dream.” Furthermore, it stands for “the common wishes of people all over the world, inspired by the Olympic ideals, to strive for a bright future of mankind.”

A brighter future for mankind is something we can all long for. As an athlete in these upcoming games, I hope that I can carry out these Olympic ideals and contribute to the progress of mankind. The great thing about the Olympics is it gives athletes the opportunity to use their success to help others. Since qualifying for the games, it has been incredible for me to have opportunities to get involved with so many great causes. The most difficult part was deciding where to spend my energy.

When I look at how I want to use my running for the “bright future of mankind” I think of what are the biggest needs in our world today and how can I use the gifts God has given me to help out. When I was approached by World Vision, a Christian humanitarian organization working to fight world poverty and injustice, I already had a heart to help the poor but I didn’t truly realize the full extent of world poverty.

For example, I learned that half of the people in the world, nearly 3 billion people, live on less than two dollars a day. Just yesterday, I was doing my easy 35 minute afternoon run and thinking about how every three seconds a child under the age of five dies as a direct result of poverty. It has finally hit me that we have a major problem here. I know that a major problem can’t be fixed overnight and I realize that I am just one man but if I can use the gifts God has given me to feed one more mouth that otherwise would not be fed, then it is worth it.

One of my favorite verses from Message of Romans simply says, “Strength is for service.” I am convicted that whatever strength I have been given is not strictly for my enjoyment, but also carries with it the responsibility to carry out the Olympic spirit of providing a bright future for all humanity.

This new passion to fight global poverty has brought so much more meaning to my running. I thought about it when I was training for London, and even during the race itself, I remember looking around at the group of purely African runners and thinking that maybe I was running for their people as well as my own. I have been inspired by fellow runners Paul Tergat, Lornah Kiplagat, Kip Keino, and many other African runners who have become successful and used their fame and wealth to go back to their communities and help people.

As an American, sometimes I find myself getting frustrated that the Africans have become so dominant in running, but if they can use it as a means to fight the poverty of their communities than I wish them the best of success.

In the Olympic games I have a lot to run for. I run for God, my wife, my family, my coach, my hometown, for America, and for my fallen friend Ryan Shay, but I also run for Africa, to provide clean water for their people.

I believe that many fellow athletes have the same heart but maybe they are unsure how they can use their passion for running to help others. The cool thing about World Vision is that now people can run a race to fight world poverty. Check out www.worldvision.org/team if you are interested in joining the team and adding a whole new dimension to your running.

We also recently shot some videos for World Vision and launched a new campaign to give people the opportunity to participate with me in my Olympic marathon and my pursuit of fulfilling the Olympic ideals. Who knows how world poverty could change in the upcoming years if we all come together and decide to do something about it? This new passion has really fueled my training over the past two weeks.

It has been four weeks since London now, but it seems like it was only yesterday. I took one week of complete recovery, meaning no running, and then a couple weeks of easy jogging. Last week I finally started some light workouts and was surprised at my starting point. It usually takes a couple weeks of workouts to be able to operate below five minute per mile pace but this hasn’t been the case this time around.

I did a much better job of staying on top of massage, ice bath, stretching and striders than I have done before and it has paid off. I feel that my legs are full of run, as I like to say, and ready to begin the intense training that will be required if I am going to make a run at a medal. Next week the real training begins as I head up to Big Bear to start training at altitude.

I am really excited to have the support of my older brother over the next three months, as he will become my pacer on a bike for all my workouts. I find that having someone along on the bike is the perfect training solution for me because it allows me to have someone pushing me along without getting competitive. I have used it a little in the past but never for an entire marathon buildup. I believe it could make all the difference for me.

I am also excited to be back in the mountains in my supportive hometown. The have begun a “Move a Million Miles for Ryan Hall” campaign that has been very encouraging to me. They are trying to build community fitness and overall well-being by logging a million miles by the time I run in the Olympic Marathon. We are currently at just over 100,000 miles and they encourage everyone, everywhere to join so feel free to log your miles. I don’t think there is an Olympian in the country with such a supportive community. I am really blessed to call Big Bear Lake my home.

As has become my custom before all my best races, my travel to London was crazy. Less than an hour before running and setting an American record at the Houston Half Marathon in 2007 it was a monster snowstorm that left us in a ditch and literally snowed in on the way to the airport. Before London last year it was nearly missing my flight as I realized that the train from San Diego would not drop me off at LAX like I had thought (although my tardiness did result in me getting the last available seat on the plane… in first class).

Before the Olympic Trials it was the fires and smoke in California that made for a juggle travel arrangements and then an earthquake to shake things up just hours before our flight. So when travel got crazy heading to the London Marathon you would think I would be excited to know that a good race was on schedule. However, I had a hard time seeing it that way.

“It’s over, all that hard work for nothing.” These were my words by 1 a.m. Sunday, one week before the races, as we waited for our delayed flight to depart. A seven-hour delay was more than my patience could handle. I find that the last week leading up to the marathon is the most challenging for me mentally. It is very difficult to remain confident in my fitness when I am accustomed to training so hard.It is also really challenging to not over analyze how I am feeling. Usually, when I am training hard, I just expect to feel normal or a little tired but the last week I am hoping for some euphoric feeling that usually never happens. I remember jogging the day before the race and thinking to myself, “is this how Kalid felt when he set the, then world record, and now American record of 2 hours, five minutes, 38 seconds?”

I have learned that the last few weeks are really important to let my legs recover and adapt to all the months of high volume and intense running and that I should not doubt my fitness or pay attention to how I am feeling because I know things are going to feel really different on race day.

I have also learned to trust my coach. I have said this before, but I really do believe I have the best marathon coach in the world and I am continuing to learn to put aside my personal doubts in my fitness and trust that he has prepared me for what lies ahead. I also have learned the importance of being surrounded by supportive people the last weeks.

My wife Sara always does a great job of being the person I can go to with my doubts and encouraging me through them. Sometimes I just need to talk about my worries, stresses and doubts just to get it off my chest. These are the lessons that the veteran marathoners have learned and benefit from. Now, having been through three marathons, I believe that I have learned these lessons as well and will be able to benefit from it in Beijing.

The countdown to race day finally ended on a clear, beautiful morning on April 13. Sara read me the days forecast before my feet hit the ground. As I watched the sun rise over the horizon it appeared that the weather had cooperated and we would be blessed with good conditions for a fast day of running.

One word was pulsing through my head as I thought about how anxiously I had been anticipating this day — opportunity. How many opportunities will I have to run against the best marathoners in the world on a day with good weather on a fast coarse after a very successful four months of training? I knew that I had to make the most of day because nothing is promised to us in the future.

The gun fired and we were away alongside 40,000 other runners. After the first mile I hit the split button on my watch and hoped that the split was faster than the effort I perceived. I had convinced myself to expect around a five-minute mile. I was surprised when I looked down to see 4:45. I thought to myself, “good, I am feeling good, we are out well but not too fast, now I can just settle in and find my rhythm…”

Before I could finish my thought I felt the pace increase as the first of mile after mile of surging began. Second mile… 4:39. My next thought was, “could that be right?” We ran 4:39 last year for the 3rd mile, which is slightly downhill. We will certainly have to settle now.” Wrong again. Third mile… 4:25.

By now I was just hanging on to the back of the pack giving them a couple yards as I thought to myself “this is crazy,” and briefly I entertained the thought of letting the leaders go and running an even paced race on my own but this was not the reason why I trained so hard and traveled all the way out to London. My purpose in coming was to learn how to race against the worlds best by going out with them from the beginning. I was, what they call in poker, “pot committed.”

The first half of the marathon basically played out how the first three miles did. There was very little time to rest and relax and a lot of surging. I had a lot to think about during those first 13 miles. I pictured myself running with Sara for an easy run on our favorite trail in Big Bear. I tried my best to convince myself that I was just out for an easy jog during the first half and honestly it did feel that way for parts but then we would surge and I would be slapped back into reality. I also thought about my family and everyone that would be watching and praying for me back at home. Basically, during the first half of the race I tried my best to stay as relaxed as possible and just take in the sites. Going across Tower Bridge, just before the half way mark, is my favorite part of the race. It is amazing! The crowd is five deep on both sides, just going crazy, it is something to be experienced!

Once we hit the half it was game on. I couldn’t believe that there were so many of us coming through so quick. World record pace and there was still about 10 guys running strong. Around the 14th mile I felt the pace start to lag significantly. I thought to myself that this might be the first sign of fatigue in the group so I went to the front briefly and asked the pace-marker to keep the pace going. Maybe I should have requested a particular mile split because then he really started hammering and before I knew it the pack was dropping me.

I was a little discouraged to lose contact so early but there was nothing I could do about it so I pictured myself on Green Church Road in Mammoth doing a tempo on my own. I relaxed and found my rhythm. When I saw my split of 4:41 for the mile I got dropped on I realized I was still running well and needed to stay positive and keep pushing forward. After a couple miles I realized the lead pack of five was coming back to me and at just the right time too. During the last 10k we would be running directly into the storm that had recently kicked up. This put a premium on me exerting extra effort to catch up so I could tuck in heading into the heavy rain and wind.

When I caught back up I honestly thought I had a great shot at winning the race. I started feeling better and better and had the advantage of sitting and waiting to make my move. Unfortunately, Goumri was also feeling good and made a very strong move around the 22nd mile. I ran 4:51 for that mile and they gapped me considerably. Now, I was just running for time. I kept repeating to myself that I was running great and had a good time going. I focused on turning my, now soggy, feet over as quick as I could. I thought about my wife and how I had a responsibility to her to do my very best. She had sacrificed so much for me. I owed it to her to pour it out over the last couple miles. I had come this far. I also, had flashbacks from “Passion of Christ,” the movie I had watched before going to bed. I pictured Christ’s tattered body carrying his cross up the mountain for me. I started pumping my arms as hard as I could and digging for everything I had.

Unfortunately I missed my bottle at 35 kilometers, arguably one of the most important bottles in the race. Briefly, I reprimanded myself but I knew worrying about it wouldn’t help me at all. Looking back on the race and how dehydrated I felt at the finish and after the race I learned that I should have taken more fluids beyond just my bottles. I also question whether it is a good idea to pour water on my head, as my body felt thrown off its rhythm.

The fatigue I feel in a marathon is unlike any sensation I have felt. The last couple of miles I felt totally numb. It’s like what I picture an out of body experience to be like. My legs don’t feel like they are mine anymore. No matter what I say or how hard I pumped my arms they just kept going at the same rhythm. Mile 25 was my slowest of the race, 5:10. When I saw my split I knew that I had to find a way to run at least a five-minute mile.

I was losing valuable time that I had worked so hard for. I pictured the last mile of my tempo run and thought to myself that it is not that far. It helped to have a couple other athletes coming back to me. I was able to run my last mile in 4:56 and was pleased when I saw the clock. I caught the fourth place runner with 200 to go but I had used all my gears and was just searching for the finish at that point.

I felt like my eyes were going to pop out of my head. I have never been so tired at the finish line. However, I think it is a credit to good coaching that after laying down for a bit and getting in lots of fluids and a recovery shake I felt fine and even did my first ever cool down after a marathon. After all this isn’t the end, it’s just the beginning.

I consider myself blessed to look back on my marathon debut at the 2007 Flora London Marathon with fond memories. At this time last year, I was a little timid of the new and daunting distance I would be racing, to say the least. I think every marathoner can probably look back on their first experience and recall their nerves.

I remember being quite nervous as we ate our pre-race pasta dinner. As I sat with my mom and wife, Sara, my eyes drifted to the 2006 ING New York City Marathon champ, Gomez de Santos, who was finishing his meal quietly nearby. One table over sat another ING New York City marathon champ, Hendrick Ramala, laughing as they chatted casually. It amazed me how relaxed and composed everyone seemed with less than 24 hours before gun time.

I had to get out of there if I was going to keep my composure, so Sara and I headed up to our room. On the way up we shared a memorable elevator ride with then world-record holder Paul Tergat. To break the awkward silence, Sara asked him what he was up to, but he misunderstood and responded, “Tomorrow is going to be fast, very fast.” At that point, I was getting very nervous.

I actually did get some shut-eye that night, which I saw as a bonus. I awoke early in the morning to get in my typical pre-marathon meal of a bagel with Cytomax protein pudding and a cup of coffee, of course. The most nerve-racking moments were the “death march” from the hotel to the bus that takes us to the starting area. Everyone is saying their goodbyes like they are never going to see their loved ones again. I thought I was going to break down and shed a tear after sharing a prayer with my family before my departure.

I did my pre-race warm-up of one mile with my teammate Meb Keflezighi. I was glad to have him around before my first marathon. I felt like his little brother, following him around, mirroring his every step. It was weird to warm up for only a mile but with all the nerves flowing, and some caffeine to boot, I was buzzing.

Finally, on the starting line, they announced the “contenders,” including Tergat, Haile Gebrselassie, Stefano Baldini, Martin Lel, Felix Limo, and Ramala. I was not mentioned, but that didn’t bother me. I was about to be part of one of the greatest marathon fields ever assembled.

The gun fired, and we were off. I must have had the fastest start in the field because I found myself excitedly looking around for Meb, the pacemakers and the big boys. The plan was simple. The front group would go out at world-record pace, and then a second group, that would include Meb, Baldini, Marilson Gomes Dos Santos and myself, would go out about a minute slower through halfway. I was to sit in the second group and “fall asleep” for the first half of the race. By “fall asleep,” I mean I want to spend as much energy as I would sleeping, as if I am focusing on how the first half of the race is going to restore and energize my legs. Sometimes I pretend that the early running is like getting a massage, flushing out all the bad things while warming up the muscles, so that when the real running begins over the second half of the race, they will be as fresh as possible.

There is also a mental component to racing. In a marathon you have to time your mental expenditures so that when your body is weak, your mind will still be strong because you haven’t had to pull on those motivating thoughts which get you through the tough sections of the race. The first half of the race is about relaxation and the second half is about excitement and controlled pushing of ones physical, spiritual and mental limits.

The biggest surprise of the day came in the first two miles when I got to the mile mark and looked down at my watch. I remember hoping that it was a four-minute, 50-second mile, but was disappointed when I looked down to see the split of five minutes, and we were with the leaders. Obviously, some discussion had taken place and someone had decided that the temperature would be too hot for any world record attempts. I was totally unaware and surprised to have our two groups virtually running together through the first half of the race.

Our plan to “fall asleep” the first half of the race was difficult to carry out. The unseasonably warm day, with temperatures in the mid 70s, made for great crowds and noisy streets. I have ridden in the New Year’s Day Rose Parade, and the noise I heard on the streets of London was even louder! I remember going through a part of the course that is notorious for screaming teenage girls and almost wanting them to simmer down because of the ringing sensation in my ears. It was deafening!

When I crossed the Tower Bridge just short of mile 13, I could take the excitement no longer. With the crowds going crazy, I urged the pacers on to catch the leaders. Dos Santos was the only one from our group to come with me, and we gradually made up the nine-second difference over the next couple of miles, bringing us through the half-way mark in less than 64 minutes. This was slightly slower than scheduled, but still relatively fast.

I will never forget catching the leaders. I hadn’t planned on running with them until later on and pictured myself picking guys off near the end, rather than being with the leaders with 10 miles to go. I glanced over at Haile, behind me was Tergat, in front of me was Ramala. Honestly, it was a surreal moment. It took me a couple of miles to make the mental adjustment, but then I snapped out of it and felt like I belonged.

This race was my welcoming party to join the best marathoners in the world. I had watched these guys run ever since I started running in my teens and dreamed of joining them. Now, here I was running alongside them.

I don’t remember at exactly which point I decided to go to the front of the group, but I still think it was a wise move for me. I needed to taste the lead. I run well from the front so there was no reason not to do the very thing that I excel at, even if my competition was the greatest marathoners in the world. However, I do regret was that I didn’t stay at the front. Right around 23½ miles, things abruptly got hard and I decided to try and relax in the back. The back is not the place for me if I am feeling badly because it is easy to fall off the back when everything is burning. It’s easy to come up with excuses, but most of all it is easy to lose hope.

My fatigue began fairly early in the race. I remember becoming aware of unusual tightness in my calves around the nine-mile mark. I decided wisely that there was nothing I could do about it and quickly put the awareness in the back of my mind. However, by mile 24, I could no longer ignore the tightening sensation that was running all down the backs of my legs. The burn got the better of Dos Santos and me as we fell off the lead pack. I told myself to stay relaxed and keep it rolling, which was enough to carry me on to the finish in a respectable time of 2:08:24. I hadn’t totally hit the wall, but the last couple miles were definitely the longest of my life, and certainly not the quickest.

I couldn’t have asked for a better present at the finish line than seeing my wife waiting for me excitedly, just feet past the finish. I pretty much collapsed into her from exhaustion. It was such a sense of accomplishment to have finished. I had done it. I could finally say that I was a marathoner.

I wasn’t thrilled with the time, but I was excited about how the race had unfolded. I had been leading the greatest marathoners in the world at 23 miles. This is what I had visualized as I trained in the trails of Big Bear. I had accomplished my goal. I took a shot, and I was there. I could have won if I had been stronger. And while this day did not belong to me, my career as a marathoner was just beginning.

As I hobbled off to the bus, Tergat caught up to me and looked at me with enthusiasm and a giant grin, exclaiming, “Wow! Wow! That was so good!” as he stroked the back of my head. It was a humbling experience to have the world-record holder excited about my debut performance. It was then that I knew that this would be a special race, one that I would always look back on with a smile.

Today, as we drove down through a few flickering snowflakes to do my final last longish tempo run (10 miles), I was thinking to myself how fast the last couple of months have gone by. I can’t believe that I am back, race-fit, and ready to go, when it seems like the Olympic Trials were just a few weeks ago. I guess that is the sign of a proper marathon build-up. Rather than counting down how many training efforts remain I wish there were more, and rather than feeling like I have been training hard for a super-long time I feel like I am just hitting the peak of my fitness and could stand to train even longer.

This time last year I was definitely ready to get to the starting line. I remember, being a month out from the race and feeling pretty worn out and ready to take it easy for the last couple of weeks before the start. This year, with two weeks to go, I remain hungry.

I think one of the reasons the last five months have gone by so fast is because we have been training in so many different places. My buildup began in Flagstaff doing intervals at the paces I am now running for tempo runs. Next, I came to Mammoth to begin the uphill runs that I am now banking on to give me the strength that my legs will need when things get hard.

Big Bear was the next stop and where my fitness began to really take hold. Every weekend was a big training effort with long tempo runs and quality long runs. Now, back in Mammoth, is where my fitness has really begun to show and even surprise me. I have never run tempo runs, long runs, marathon simulations, or intervals as fast as I have the past week and a half. I feel very blessed to have responded so well to the training that coach has prescribed, to have the support that I have received from my wife, and to be in the position I find myself in now: as fit as I have ever been in my life.

Certainly, I have been diligent in my training, but as a professional runner, I realize that everything has to click just right to really maximize my potential and some of those things are out of my control, to some extent. I find, that when things are really clicking it is a very humbling experience because I feel that God has put something in me that I could not have put in myself, try as I may. Just today I was thinking about the famous quote from Chariots of Fire, “you can’t put in what God has left out.” As weird as it may seem, I find a certain amount of solace in these words. It keeps me from trying to force myself into a level of fitness that I am not at, and allows me to focus on developing my talent to its very fullest by letting it come out, not by trying harder. I have found that I improve much more, especially over the long run, when I let the training come out and am not out there trying to really force something special to happen.

It’s interesting that I maximize my potential when I just let it come rather than by trying harder. The great thing about letting my fitness come is that it makes training very enjoyable and puts me at peace with where I am at for that point in time, while realizing that my fitness will continue to increase. This mindset allows me to always be successful and really enjoy both the process and the outcome.

I believe that my life, as an athlete, is much more fulfilling and enjoyable when I find ways to be successful, independent of outcomes. There is no reason for me to be disappointed with my race in London if I can honestly walk away from the finish knowing that I did everything in my power to maximize my potential. It would be especially sweet to really feel that, for this time period in my life, I also got the race that reflected my maximum potential, but even if I can just say that I let all my fitness out on the day, in my buildup, and that my heart was right, then I can feel every bit as successful as anyone in the race. I find that I must learn to delight in my own performance even if it is not as special as what a fellow competitor might have achieved, if I am truly going to be able to do my very best.

One of my other favorite movie quotes comes from Facing Giants when the football coach