Tobacco Road Marathon Adventure

AM: 85 mins. (11-12 miles)
PM: 20 mins. pool

For a very thorough analysis of the race from Jordan's perspective, click here. For some insights from the best girlfriend in the entire world who woke up at 3am to accompany her boyfriend to his marathon, continue reading below.

The first thing I remember clearly after the aforementioned 3am wakeup is hearing the announcer counting down to the start of the race. After spending the entire drive sleeping, I had apparently crawled into the backseat once we parked and continued napping until 7. I woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed, eager to start my own run and hopefully catch a glimpse or two of Jordan on the course. After asking for directions to the Tobacco Trail from someone in the parking lot, I set off down the winding country road. I'd thought the trail was only a mile or so away, but I misunderestimated (sorry, can't pass up a good Dubya joke on the eve of the healthcare reform vote). Instead, it was closer to three miles away. Fortunately there was little traffic and plenty of shoulder for me to run on, so the beginning miles passed uneventfully.

Once I reached the trail, I realized I had no idea where Jordan was or when I might see him. It was perfectly coincidental that less than five minutes later I spotted the lead motorcycle coming straight toward me. Expecting to see Jordan close behind him, I was somewhat surprised to see a tall guy in a Brooks singlet and a lanky Hispanic (who turned out to be Moroccan). The Brooks guy looked calm and relaxed, but I detected a hint of panic on the Moroccan's face. Not good for what I found out was only mile 11 of the race. About 30 meters back was Jordan, looking fine but not particularly happy. I shouted at him that the second place guy would come back soon enough, then asked how he was feeling. "I'm hurting," was the answer I received but definitely not the one I was expecting this early in the race. As I watched him disappear into the distance, I couldn't help but to feel slightly worried. There was still a lot of running to be done.


The American Tobacco Trail

I continued down the trail for a few miles, enjoying the tree cover and the flat dirt path. I'm sure it would be boring to train here every day, but I really enjoyed the trail this morning. I would've liked to go farther, but at some point I realized I needed to turn around and head back the way I came if I wanted to beat Jordan back to the finish. There was nowhere else for me to see him during the race, which meant I had no idea whether he'd found a second wind or dropped out or something in between. Talk about suspense.

After reaching the car and taking a few minutes to change clothes, I headed over to the finish line just in time to hear the announcer say that the lead marathoner was approaching the 24-mile mark. By my calculations that would put him at around a 2:20 finish, which meant that it definitely wasn't Jordan unless things had taken a dramatic turn for the better. However, there were clearly some miscalculations involved with that first report, because it was almost a full 10 minutes later that he announced the leader approaching the 25-mile mark. This would put him on 2:25 pace, which didn't entirely rule Jordan out as a contender. Still, I wasn't optimistic; the Brooks guy had appeared so strong, and Jordan hadn't seemed mentally prepared to charge after him. Sure enough, a few minutes later the Brooks guy (who turned out to be Gavin Coombs, a former NC State runner and an employee at one of Jordan's accounts) came into view, then crossed the finish line just over 2:25. Jordan was still out there, but how far back? Had he overtaken the Moroccan? Had he dropped out and decided to Gallowalk to the finish? Fortunately I didn't have to wait long for the answers to these burning questions, as I spied his Craft singlet approaching a minute or so later. It was obvious from his facial expression that he was pretty ready to wrap things up, but his stride and arm carriage still looked strong. He crossed the finish line a few seconds later in 2:27.17, a 3-second PR. It would be six full minutes later before the Moroccan finished in third. Needless to say, he'd died a pretty painful death.

Speaking of painful, Jordan looked to be in rough shape after the race. It wasn't until several hours and a few pieces of pizza later that he started looking and sounding like himself. Though he hadn't had the best of races by any measure, I was tremendously proud of how he stayed tough even when things weren't going well. I guarantee he will learn more about himself and about the nature of the marathon from this race than from any of the others he's run. And while I didn't enjoy the whole 3am thing, I was glad that I finally had the chance to accompany him to one of his races. Actually, come to think of it, he won the two marathons I didn't attend and now placed second at the one where I showed up. Hmmm. Maybe I should stay home next time after all.