The Maine Marathon was not my day, but it wasn’t a loss
PORTLAND — Assistant Sports Editor Scott Martin crossed the finish line of the Maine Marathon on Sunday in a time of 4 hours, 13 minutes and 58 seconds. The result placed him well behind the personal targets he had set for the race, but the day still held moments of triumph for the longtime runner.
The event, which drew participants from across New England, began under near‑ideal conditions. Air temperature hovered around 50 °F at the start line, providing a comfortable canvas for the 26.2‑mile effort. Martin, who had been training for 18 weeks after signing up ten months earlier, arrived early to mingle with friends and members of his running group before the gun sounded.
For the first six miles Martin kept a steady pace, averaging between 8 minutes 45 seconds and 9 minutes per mile. He took in the coastline views, shouted greetings to acquaintances, and even high‑fived his sister Melissa when she appeared at mile 6. A brief stop at mile 7 for a bathroom break turned awkward when he “literally choked” on his second gel, but he brushed it off and picked up the stride again shortly thereafter.
The halfway point came at 1 hour 57 minutes, a few seconds slower than the 3:47 target pace he had aimed for on the return leg. From there, the course began to climb, and the hills of Cumberland started to test his resolve. It was at mile 17, climbing Tuttle Road, that his right knee—an old source of trouble in marathons—began to protest violently. “Every swing of that leg, every time my foot hit the ground, my knee sang in agony,” he recalled.
Facing the pain, Martin briefly considered walking the hill and regaining his rhythm at the top, but the discomfort persisted. For the remaining 10 plus miles, the race turned into a slow slog. He jogged when his knee permitted and walked whenever it demanded, admitting that “I considered dropping out every time I saw a medical tent, but didn’t allow myself to quit. That’s one thing I can take pride in.”
As the finish line approached, the clock ticked past his coveted 3:47 mark. “I was about 2.5 miles from the finish line when I looked at my watch and saw 3:47 flip to 3:48. I knew long before that I wasn’t hitting that goal, but it still hurt to see the number pass so far from the end.” He pushed through the final three‑tenths of a mile, determined not to walk across the line.
After crossing, Martin shook hands with colleagues, waited in a long line for pizza that never arrived, and ultimately celebrated with a well‑earned lunch at Wilson County Barbecue, accompanied by his sister and brother‑in‑law. “I celebrated the day, not necessarily the race,” he said, summing up the mixed emotions of the experience.
Looking ahead, Martin said he is taking a step back. “Ten months after signing up for this race and after 18 weeks of training, I’m ready for a bit of a break. I’m going to recover, reflect and decide what’s next.” He added that another marathon is “what won’t be next,” though he remains open to the possibility. “I don’t know if I’ll ever put myself through that again, but it’s too soon after the race to say, ‘No way.’ After all, seven years ago after running the Chicago Marathon, I said that was it, yet here we are.”
The assistant sports editor’s performance will be remembered less for the finish time and more for the resilience displayed amid pain, the decision to keep moving when the body begged otherwise, and the thoughtful reflection that follows such an endeavor. Whether he returns to the starting line remains an open question, but for now, Martin’s focus is on recovery and the possibility that, someday, he may run again—if the lessons from this race can keep the experience from feeling the same way.
