Marathons are events of love.
I was overwhelmed with the amount of love I got to absorb this past weekend.
On Saturday, I got to see Haley twice on the half marathon route. She looked amazing and did amazing! I also got to meet up with her parents to cheer on all the runners. I yelled for Haley so hard at the finish line the recording would make you deaf.
Seeing Haley run fast was quite inspiring. Her performance somehow reassured me that there is a chance I can run a sub-4 marathon. That night, we enjoyed a fantastic feast at Little Nona's with garlic bread and tons of pasta #carbload.
The morning of the marathon was the prettiest morning. 31F. Slightly overcast. Very light wind. We could not have asked for better weather. We arrived just early enough to check our gear and use the bathroom. I was nervous. When the gun shot, I was not even sure it was for our corral to start. "I guess we're running!"
The first three miles flew by. We had so much energy, and the crowds were absolutely mind blowing. We ran at around 8:50 min/mi and I felt amazing. I thought to myself "Well maybe a 4-hour finish was too easy." Of course, it sounded absurd when I re-analyzed this thought 18 miles later. I closed my eyes couple times from mile 4-7. There were drums, guitars, various brass instruments, very loud speakers and even a choir. One Indego biker with a speaker was playing a Disney(?) song when we ran by. Many spectators clapped and made the very loud wooooo sound. I woooed back a couple times and encouraged them go even louder. It was an amazing feeling to be in the middle of that love and support. I thought "This is why I signed up." But once again, this thought was later shattered at mile 21 and replaced by "Why am I doing this again?!".
I saw Haley on the left side at one point on Chestnut, but I couldn't recognize her with a red ball cap on. When I realized this strange woman who seemed to be taking pictures of everyone smiled back to me and cheered me on, I shouted "Haley! I couldn't see you!" and she snapped this photo:
Chestnut was the rowdiest crowd, but the support continued strong along the route. People were giving us water, beer, tissues, ibuprofen, vaseline and even cakes. It was actually quite interesting how people cheer so differently. On the hardest hill, one lone spectator gave us many catchphrases as if he was our personal trainer. Others said "It's all downhill after that loop!" when offering us some gu's. Tractor drivers waved and honked. Some people called out "Great job, Trang!" when they saw my name on the bib. It was heart warming the whole way through. "We're all in this together!" - that's what it felt like.
I remember my younger sister Ngoc was struck by stranger's kindness when she was at her highschool camp/festival (hoi trai 26/3). She was in the middle of a tug of war between two classes when a standby student from a different class cheered for her and gave her tips. She was quite shocked by the kindness from the stranger. It's a different experience to feel loved and supported by someone else other than our mom.
On Kelly Dr, I got to see Serkalem Abrha on her way to break the course record:
At mile 15, 
Around mile 16, I said hi to a woman and asked for her name when I saw her the third time. Alyson proceeded to tell me about why she ran the marathon: her son passed away a few years back because of spinal muscular atrophy, so she decided to run it for him. I think she teared up a little. We talked a little more about our motivation then got separated. We later saw her at the finish line and gave her a hug.
We were at around 9:20 min/mi from mile 15-20. We should have paid attention more to the pace, but I was also quite tired. At the turnaround point, we realized that the 4-hour pacer was just right behind us. We quickly reassess the situation: there was no slack and we really got to keep it together for the next 6.2 miles. There was some downhill back from Manayunk, but that still didn't give us great separation from the pacer. I reminded myself of Nadia's text the day before:
So, one step at a time. One mile at a time. I told my heart: "Be good. You got this!" My legs wanted to cramp up, but I kept punching it and consumed gatorade every chance I got. If you took a photo of me without my knowlegde at this point, you will see PAIN, not the usual smile. Daniel was often a few feet in front of me. I wanted to drop back, but his words kept me going:
We've worked so hard for this! We're so close!
or
This is just like our training run on the Schuylkill. We have home field advantage.
Mile 25, I know I can do it. I told Daniel to sprint ahead and that I got this, I won't fall behind, I'm so close. He stayed with me. We saw his dad at one point during mile 25. I was tired, but I smiled for a brief second.
Mile 26.1. We did a Trang's sprint to the finish line. 3:58:47.
At the finish line, I gave Daniel a hug of disbelief: Are you sure we really did it?!
This photo was captured by my old roommate Johanna (we had an incredible time living together with a few others) who came to support me. She saw me three times on the route and was able to snap this precious pic.
After hanging out with our incredible supporters and got some hotdogs + banana + chicken soup, we walked back to the finish line to cheer for our friend Jason. I cried when I saw a man with no bib held his partner's hand and ran her to the finish line. As for Jason, he looked strong at 26.19:
Here are some bonus photos of us:
I'm sure for many, the race is a personal mission. I'm not sure what it is for me, but I know I can now party late on Fridays now that Project Sub-4 is complete. What's next? NYC marathon? Sub-3:50? Well, that's too far ahead to plan. I think for now I'll drink beer, eat turkey and sleep on victory for a little bit.
Gobble gobble gobble.
