Editor's note: this is one of the finest 'first marathon' reports ever published, in my opinion. Extracted from the message board. Steve won dinner for two at Aja for this, hopefully with one of those "potentially attractive girls."

Posted by Steve Rider on June 02, 19103 at 00:48:13:

After completing my first marathon, I figured I would post my 2 cents on how the race was run and a small recap of my first marathon.

At the time of my entry, I was going after 2:30, just because it seemed like a nice round number. After doing a workout at "race pace" a week ago, I dropped that goal down to about 2:33.

I arrive at the event and it is huge. Thousands of people all over the place getting ready to run near the start. Being the humble guy that I am, I marched around the area shamelessly flaunting my bib number to ensure all potentially attractive girls could see I was in the number 1 corral. My ego was instantly punctured when I see an elite corral in front of me with Jim K. standing in it.

The race starts, the lead corral had several scrubs in it that had obviously not seen the second digit in their teen corral number. My biggest concern was that I'd click off too fast of a first mile. I go slow, trying to relax and looking for some people that look about me speed. One guy near me darts off with perhaps the worst form I've seen in my life -- I expected him to return to me, but I later found out he ran a 2:22:50 (fifty seconds off US Oly Trials). I passup Jim K. and give him a nod. He's talking with his friend and says something polite to me. Careful not to waste any energy, I nod and give him a thumbs up -- afterall, I don't want to say, "I would have run my goal, but I said two words to Jim at the quarter mile mark."

First mile is on pace and I feel great, which is to be expected. I catch up with the lead women, who are holding about my goal pace. I decide to tuck in with them for several reasons. Most importantly, the TV cameras are all about this pack. I conveniently jump in front of the camera on a couple turns -- hey I got to cut the tangents!

The women's race is very interesting. Jim K. mentioned that these are fun to watch, and they lived up to the hype. The Ethiopians were shamelessly drafting and occasionally clipping the Ukrainian's feet. At one point the Ukraine chick whirls around and semi-punches the Ethiopian in the arm. The African looks a little startled, and I'm fired up to have front row seats for international feud. The Ethiopians were very stubborn in that they insisted on pacing RIGHT behind the Ukraine chick. Here I am, 6'3 with a reasonably wide frame, and they are pushing me out of the way to gain a foot and a half to sit behind this person. Being the classy gentleman I am (and because I was on TV), I tried to stay out of their way and let their race go on.

After about 8 miles I use the hill and pull ahead a bit. It as this point where I run into the "mystery substance." I was under the assumption that power gel was going to be distributed around mile 17. Here we are at mile 9 and they are handing out this other stuff, and I don't have to even open it. It's on a stick so I take it and gulp it down. It lacks taste but goes down smoothly. All things considered, I think things are really going well for me. Cheering is great, especially from the high school cheer squads. I'm hydrated, only a couple seconds off 2:30 pace, and I've gotten some energy substance in me early. To cap off my high, I pass a Kenyan.

I roll through the half marathon point in 1:15:16. "Hey I feel great!" I say to myself. My pace has slowed a bit, mostly due to the fact I'm running alone. The women's pack catches me and suddenly I'm in my pack again with cameras everywhere.

Remember I said that mystery substance? They are offering more of it up ahead. "Great! I can use a little more energy!" GULP! I consume another one... man it sure doesn't taste very good but it must be good for you, they wouldn't pass it out otherwise!

I've been throwing Gatorade in me occasionally, but it's hard to swallow and run. I decide to focus more on the water and take my chances with the mystery substance.

Mile 17 and I'm starting to not be the happy camper I once was. Legs are getting a little tighter, but I'm holding steady. My dad yells I'm in around 40th place including chicks. I breeze by the powergel station. Why would anyone want this stuff over the mystery substance? I take one anyone but with my sweaty hands, I can't seem to open it. I drop the packet unopened. I need more mystery substance.

Mile 20 things are definitely getting tough, but I'm almost there. I come through in a 1:57 high. I've definitely fallen off the 2:30 train, but I should still be under 2:35 with a little finish at the end.

It as at this time when I realized why a marathon is so much tougher than say... a twenty mile run. I'm not exactly sure when it set in, but at one point my legs said, "okay we're done!" My pace didn't begin to slow, it collapsed. My legs simply would not respond and screamed at me to stop. It was also at this point that I suddenly realized how far 5 miles really is. That distance seemed like a marathon in itself given my shape.

My body feels about as terrible as I can recall with the exception of a race I passed out in. Damnit, maybe I need some more mystery substance! I plow through another mile and the racing ends. It is now simply a matter of finishing. I have a strong notion to kick the curb and fall down. Afterall, there's medical tents everywhere for this kind of stuff! No, I have to finish, I tell myself. I check my watch and conclude that there is a slight chance of me cracking 2:40 if I can pick it up a bit or kick the last 800 or something. The thought of kicking generates a very adverse opinion from my legs that are already not impressed by my choice of Sunday morning plans.

I finally do finish the event, averaging around 7:15 for my last 6 miles. My time of 2:43 doesn't really fire me up too much to try again. Once in the finish area I was barely able to walk around as my legs are very cramped and it's difficult to keep my balance. Embarrassed, I felt exceptionally stupid as everyone else around me seemed fired up and healthy.  I stumbled out of the finish area to my car and went home, severely disappointed.

I think back on all of my planning for the race. I got my sleep, I ate the vitamins, I was hydrated, I thought I was ready for the marathon. But all that is inconsequential to the fact that I just haven't been hitting the miles. As the great book Once a Runner states (in so many words), "people ask for a quick and easy secret on how to get fast. What they fail to accept is that there is no secret, only the nasty reality that trial of miles is the only way build the strength and endurance." My training has been fairly strong, but it has lacked the mileage; and all the powergel, mystery formula, and sleep cannot compensate for your body's lack of fitness when mile 22 comes around. Just look at that Mr. 2:22. While his form was obscene, the mileage for him had to be there.

I attribute my disappointment to my lack of miles, but it also should be noted that I don't think the mystery substance was as beneficial as I planned. I know many of you have probably figured out what the mystery substance was. If you haven't, they had chaffing stations along the run with gobs of Vaseline on wooden sticks. I wasn't aware of this, and assumed it was food. So I ate about 5 tablespoons of this stuff (along with some rotten Gatorade in the morning which is a whole other story). It didn't really have any bad effect on me. However, I definitely didn't get any carbohydrates in me that my body was desperately lacking after 2 hours. It sure did go down smoothly well while running though!

This has turned into a much longer recount than I intended, so if you're still reading, thanks  Hopefully you won't make the mistake of eating Vaseline throughout the course when you run your first marathon.