Marathon: 4:38:02

I think the moment I crossed that finish line was one of the happiest moments of my life. I just couldn't believe I actually did it. Particularly when the last 6-7 miles were really brutal, and I was fading fast. I really thought that at mile 20, I would get a second wind, knowing that only 10k is left. But I didn't. All I could think of at that moment was, "Oh my God, there's still 10k left???" I had nothing left in my legs -- I don't really understand why, since I never felt like that during training. All the Gu and sports drink I had consumed was making my stomach queasy, so I didn't want to take any more. I was literally just putting one foot in front of the other. People around me were suffering, too. I saw this one guy, who had his girlfriend/wife pacing him, and his dad taking photos, and they were going at a pretty decent clip, and all of a sudden, his left leg just went berserk! It was like he completely lost control of his left leg! It was nuts. He had to stop and stretch. I never saw him again. I kept trying to tell myself that four months of training had culminated in this, and I only had so much left to enjoy it. And I really tried to believe it, too. But I just couldn't. It took all I had to make sure I didn't stop. The thought of going to the bathroom occurred to me a couple of times. But honestly, toward the end, I really felt that had I sat down on a toilet, I might not be able to get up -- my thighs were *killing* me.

I never got my "second wind" until the last 0.2 miles :) And particularly the last 0.1 mile, when everyone was screaming. I finally kicked it in. I was elated to cross that finish line. I think there's probably a really good photo of me crossing that line from the official photographers -- I literally had my fists up in the air. I think I looked like somebody who just won on "Price Is Right."

The morning started out a little chaotic. Even though I got up at 4am to make sure I had enough time to make my latte, drink it, and relax and get dressed and all that, I forgot to eat breakfast! So I chowed down a banana right before I left the house. Then, the bathroom lines were *huge* at the start. With 8 minutes remaining before the start, there were still 15+ people ahead of me and the lines were *not* moving fast. So Kasey and I just went behind somebody's dumpster. Not the most lady-like thing I've ever done. But hey, you gotta pee.

With all the rushing, I did manage the start the race on time. I ran with a sharp pain in my left foot for the first 6 miles or so. I really weren't sure if I would be able to make it all the way through with that pain. But since it didn't get worse, I figured I'll learn to deal with it. And really, the option of dropping out of the marathon was even more painful than the foot. Then miraculously, around mile 6, it stopped bothering me. The funny thing is, what I *thought* would cause me problems during the race (i.e. the foot) really didn't end up being my problem at all.

My thighs started to hurt around mile 13. They have never done that before in training. I really don't know what it is. It just goes to prove that the marathon is a rather brutal race -- *anything* can happen during the 26.2 miles. If it's a shorter race, you push through and an hour later, you're done. But with the marathon, whatever happens, you just have to live with it. For hours and hours. I was pacing with Kasey, Rob, and Ed the whole way. Ed dropped back before the half-way mark. I dropped back around mile 13-14.

I was still on pace to finish in 4:22 at mile 18. But then that's when things really deteriorated. Maybe that's what "the wall" feels like? I couldn't run any faster even though I knew I was going way slower than a 10-minute mile. My legs were just dead. It all made me think I should have finished my pasta dish the night before -- I was so concerned with not getting to the starting line feeling stuffed that I didn't finish my plate! Note to self: next time, stuff your face.

Michal Young and his wife were able to meet me at different points of the course to cheer me on. The first time I saw him was around mile 3-4. I was feeling strong, and gave him an enthusiasitic scream and high-five. The next time I saw him was around mile 7. I was still feeling pretty good then. Then I didn't see him again until around mile 14. I was visibly suffering by then, I think. I knew I didn't have the energy to give him the high-five's that he got the previous two times. That was an indication to myself that I've really gotten tired. They rode their bikes along side me for much of the last couple of miles and snapped some photos with their cell phones. I have no idea why I was even smiling in one of them -- I was feeling pretty bad. It must have been toward the *very* end.

I have to say that I'm proud to have finished a marathon. Would I do it again? I'm not sure. Probably. But most certainly not anytime soon. Maybe in a year, after I've recovered from the mental abuse -- the physical abuse will heal soon enough. I'm really looking forward to adding a little more variety into my workout for now. I'm looking forward to swimming more, and taking up biking.

I'm not extraordinarily sore. Although, I think it'll all get worse tomorrow. That's always the way it is. And the pain is coming back into my left foot. I can feel it... I iced it some today. Probably not enough. I did take a 2-mile walk from the finish line back to my apartment. So I'm hoping that helped keep me loose. We'll see tomorrow...