Entries RSSAfter a crazy past two weeks of getting injured, then getting sick, I somehow, barely by the skin of my teeth, finished my first marathon yesterday! I had spent the past 16 weeks training so it wasnt exactly out of the blue, but after an injury that kept me off running for a week, then the flu that took my very last week pre-race, I was struggling to believe it was even possible, right up until the friday night before. I finally decided I would give it a shot, runny nose and all. And I couldn’t be happier with my choice. My running career has been short. Evening jogs with my dad as a kid eventually sequeing into short jogs as an adult, but not until about 3 years ago I decided I wanted to BE a runner. Whatever that means. After crossing the finish line yesterday, even being the skeptic I am, I cannot doubt that I earned that runner status.
I expected to be stressed leading up to the race, but what I experienced was something totally different. Instead of worrying that my training would fail me, or that after devoting 16 weeks of my life, 16 early saturday mornings to training for this, that I would have a performance better suited for an off-the-couch marathoner (yes, they do exist), I worried that my leg would hurt too bad and force me to leave the course and take the metro to the finish, or that my cold would fill my lungs and not let me breathe enough to run. But I decided to take it bit by bit, and focused on getting myself to the starting line. Once I was there, it was just a matter of doing what I came to do.
No matter how much advice I received leading up to race day, though much of it was fabulous, nothing could have possibly prepared me for what I actually endured. To be honest, it was pretty much what I expected for the first 18 miles. Starting getting tougher around 19, then by 22 the race was no longer physical. 4.2 miles from the finish there was no way I wouldnt make it. I would crawl if I had to. But my body was breaking down. My hips felt like hinges that had rusted and broken off. My feet felt like bricks. And no matter how much water I poured over my head, it felt like it was 1000 degrees out. But being the debater that I am, I talked my way through those final grueling miles. I told myself that if I just kept putting one foot in front of the other, the miles would pass by on their own. Each mile was not counting down to the finish but instead was one more massive accomplishment of its own, eventually equaling 26.2 massive accomplishments for the day. Eventually, I rounded the corner just past the 26 mile mark, saw my family screaming and waving through a crowd of thousands of spectators and saw the finish line just ahead. A lump formed in my throat at the sight of my dad, 6 time marathoner, cheering me in, but I quickly told myself I did not have enough energy to cry AND keep running. So I swallowed and focused forward, eeking my way across the finish line.
It may be too soon to know what I really learned from all of this, but one thing, I just cant stop thinking about. This is me, running day after day, week after week, and eventually, this is me, my body and my mind, knock knees and all, accomplishing an actual respectable feat. I have a new appreciation for my skinny legs. And a new appreciation for the power that my mind has over itself. I had no idea that it would be my fierce negotiating skills that would ultimately get me across the finish line. So though my legs wont bend today and I type with an ice pack taped to my injured ankle, I have to admit, there still seems to be a little extra spring in my step today.
