Women’s Marathon #2 – Marathon #109

Jeanne
19 hours ago
5 min read

Updated: 6 hours ago

This was my second time running the Every Women’s Marathon. The last time it was in Savannah, Georgia; this year it was in Scottsdale, Arizona. We had a great group from our Fleet Feet runners traveling from CT to take on the race.

Getting There

Danielle and I flew out on Friday—and had to change our flight last minute due to delays. Once we finally took off, Danielle whispered, “I really have to use the bathroom.” I asked the flight attendants, who were up taking drink orders, and was promptly shut down with: “I’m sorry, the fasten seat belt sign is on.”

Danielle accepted it… for about ten more minutes. Then: “Jeanne, I am going to pee my pants.” I repeated her desperate message to the flight attendant, who sighed and said, “You can go, but just know—we told you not to.”

The second the bathroom door shut, the pilot announced, “Flight attendants, please return to your jump seats. Passengers, buckle up. We’re expecting turbulence.” My eyes stared at the bathroom until Danielle walked out. She eventually came flying out of the bathroom with a priceless look on her face.

Meanwhile, the guy next to me kept twitching… and then started passing gas. I thought I was going to suffocate. I pulled my hooded sweatshirt over my head and prayed for the flight to end. After what felt like the longest travel day of our lives, we finally stepped out into the warm Arizona air.

Shakeout Run

We hit the Rabbit shakeout run, only to learn there was a pre-registration required for the post-run festivities. While disappointing, the run itself was beautiful. We discovered we were on part of the actual marathon course—a bike path along a canal lined with sculptures and artwork. We even saw Arizona’s self-driving taxis!

The Expo

This year’s expo was wonderfully organized with plenty of space. In Savannah, it had been so packed that merchandise was being ripped off racks and everything sold out. Scottsdale was the complete opposite—lots of merch, lots of room, and lots of friendly runners. I snagged some nice embroidered sweats and enjoyed meeting both first-time marathoners and veterans.

Pre-Race Meal

We ate at EVO, an Italian restaurant within walking distance of our hotel. Fantastic food and a waiter with a great sense of humor. We headed back and were in bed by 8 p.m.

Race Morning

I woke up at 4 a.m. to catch the shuttle. Our group—Fernanda, Omarya, Danielle, and I—walked to the pickup spot. The bus lines were long but moving. Once onboard, with just a few miles left, traffic came to a standstill. It was 6:30 and the race started at 7. We still needed to check bags and find bathrooms.

Then Danielle: “I need the bathroom.”

Me: “Well, the fasten seat belt sign is NOT on—and there’s a toilet in the back. Lead the way!”

A few minutes later, I returned to my seat next to Fernanda and said, “I smell shit. Do you smell that?”

She said no, but held out her bag of Nerds for me to sniff—“maybe it’s these?”

It was definitely not the Nerds. I couldn’t wait to get off that bus.

When we arrived, we realized we were at some sort of Wild West rodeo grounds. We raced into the public bathrooms, and when I looked down at my leg, I saw the unthinkable: somehow I had gotten literal shit smeared on me from that bus bathroom. I almost threw up. I scrubbed my leg in the sink and dried it with the hand dryer.

I told Fernanda what happened. Her response: “I can’t wait to read your race recap.”

The Race

We started on a narrow road, and since our corral was later, we spent the first few miles weaving to find a good pace. Around mile 3 or 4, both Audrey and I had to use the bathroom. We found a single port-o-let, but a woman darted in before us. After waiting far too long, I said, “OMG, is she doing a crossword puzzle?” We bailed, spotted a cement wall, and went behind it. Audrey was already squatting; I ran behind a dumpster and handled my business. When we regrouped, I said, “I was going to take a photo, but decided not to.”

The scenery was stunning—mountains, a cool breeze, overcast skies. We met Estefania, running her first marathon, and encouraged her. Soon we were playing mental games, including the alphabet candy game from A to Z. Other runners joined in.

My favorite moment was when Estefania suddenly started singing “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall.” More runners joined, the group grew louder, and it gave us a great cadence and plenty of laughs.

At every mile marker, she announced into her phone, “I’m at mile X and feeling good—let’s GOOOOO!” At mile 10 she said, “I’m at mile 10 and feeling a blister, but that’s okay, I’m in good spirits!” At mile 11 she gasped, “Oh no, I forgot to do mile 10!” I assured her she had—and reminded her of her blister.

Around mile 17, we turned onto a road that felt like an endless uphill. When we finally reached the top, a steep hill appeared in front of us. I put my head down and powered up. At the crest, drummers were playing, pushing us forward. The view from the top—mountains and city skyline—was gorgeous.

Then I looked ahead and realized we had to run down the other side, hit a turnaround, and go back up the hill again. The sun came out. It was HOT. I knew I needed to slow down. The water stations were every mile, but the volunteers weren’t generous with water, so I grabbed multiple cups—one over the head, the rest to drink. The electrolyte drink was a mystery; no one could identify what it was.

I thought I’d lost Audrey, but she appeared beside me. When I said I might need to do run/walk, she gave great advice: “Keep your clothes wet. It’ll help you stay cool.” She was right.

There wasn’t much to look at for distraction anymore. Every time we topped a hill, someone would yell, “That’s the last one!” Lies. So many lies.

Eventually, we dropped onto the canal path from the shakeout run. It wasn’t nearly as pretty in the blazing sun. I started run/walking and even called Kim for distraction. Audrey and I settled into a 1-minute walk / 3-minute run.

My watch chimed mile 26, but there was no 26-mile marker. A guy shouted, “You got this! The finish is right around the corner!” I yelled back, “I’ve been lied to all day—I don’t believe you!” He insisted it was close. We turned the corner… and there was another out-and-back. That jerk-face loser head liar!

The Finish

We finally crossed the line and were handed water, a heat sheet, a granola bar, a mushy banana, and a gigantic bag of chips. I kept dropping everything. Runners around us shared similar experiences: Hot. Hilly. Horrible.

Would I Run It Again?

Yes—just not in Arizona. I was grateful for the morning cloud cover, because once the sun came out, it was brutal. If it had been sunny the whole race, I’d probably still be out there walking! What truly made this trip memorable, though, was traveling with such incredible women. Running doesn’t just give me adventures—it’s given me friendships that will last a lifetime.