(Pardon the non-craft-related post, but this was certainly a project!)
Okay, so really I jog/walked a marathon. But still. I made it through all 26.2 miles and crossed the finish line on my own two feet. I never, ever thought I could do that. I'm proud!
I've had over a week to process my experience - yet still my thoughts are all over the place. Here goes.
A marathon is 26.2 miles. I've been asked about this a lot. A marathon is not "a really long foot race." A half marathon is 13.1 miles. A true marathon is 26.2 miles.
Running a marathon is NOT like running two half marathons. There's something about topping 18-19 miles that's a game changer. It's called the wall. And like the Holy Ghost, you can't see it, but you can feel it, and you know it's there.
"Heart rate monitors, GPSs, and Heed! Oh my!"
The tempo of Whatever It Is, by the Zac Brown Band, exactly matches my marathon pace. Never heard of the song? I put it on the playlist of the iPod-look-a-like at the bottom of this post.
The hours after the marathon felt worse than the hours after childbirth. Seriously. I laid on my bathroom floor for hours, wrapped in my space blanket, unsure which I would do first - fall asleep or vomit. Fortunately I only fell asleep. And in case you're wondering, the day after the marathon was definitely better than the day after childbirth.
I {heart} cheerleaders. The three-foot-tall ones who hold homemade signs and yell, "Go, Mommy, Go!"
Over 10,000 people registered for the marathon. 8154 finished. Though I never want to celebrate another person's injury or failure, this tortoise beat 2000 hares.
I wore down a pair of high-quality running shoes in four months. I had my previous pair of running shoes for three years, if that tells you anything.
Dear Treadmill, we have battled. And I have won. I am not intimidated by you anymore! Neener.
This is the best picture I have from the marathon. It was taken after the finish, while I was wearing the ever-so-fashionable space blanket. After you run a really long distance (say, 26.2 miles), blood rushes to your legs to start repairing worn-down muscles, giving your upper body chills.
Thank you, MMW, for providing six months of encouragement. For running hundreds of miles by my side. For getting me into this mess in the first place. For waking up at ungoshly hours with me. Then for waking up at ungoshly hours for me - to cheer me on and serve as my pit crew - handling my germy water bottles and sweaty clothes without batting an eyelash (way worse than the early hours, I know). For getting teary when I crossed the finish line, because you knew how much work was behind it. I don't like getting all sappy here on the blog-o, but I'm really glad I'm on the list of people who can give you a hug without it being awkward. *hug*
Dear Ben, thank you for supporting me through all of this. For letting me be away every Saturday morning for six months. For financing a hobby that ended up being a much more expensive than I anticipated. For running races with me, then always waiting at the finish line to cheer me on. For telling me I look hot in my football pants. (There's nothing that ruins a good self-image like standing beside thousands of stick-skinny marathon runners.) I love you.
Dear body, you are amazing. The fact that you did this is a testament that you were designed and created by a knowing, loving Heavenly Father. I apprecaite your power and your ability to heal. I promise to take care of you. And I can't wait to find out what else you can do!
And since my iPod and I have become really good buddies over the past few months, I thought I'd post a handful of the songs on my exercise playlist. Get ready to laugh. :)
way to go! I just found your blog and was reading your old posts:) I have completed 2 full and 2 half and in training for another full. You have accomplished so much and should be so proud of yourself! Hooray!!
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