Marathon!

I ran a marathon today.

I am incredibly proud of that accomplishment and of all the work that went into it.  I am also proud of the money raised for ACS and the tribute to my uncle.  But I know now more than ever that I could not have done it on my own, and that I owe a debt of gratitude to a number of people.

First, my husband, who put up with all the training runs, encouraged me and supported me through injury and discouragement, and rearranged his life to accommodate this hobby of mine.  Second, Jared, who ran the last six miles with me, who kept me moving when I lost my will and let the pain take over too much of my mind, who read me ridiculously bad puns to make me laugh and pushed the pace little by little to get out of me what I didn't know I had to give.  I am also indebted to Kali, who filled my office with good luck balloons, Betsy, who sent cookies and love, Jed, who made me a totally awesome and ridiculous running playlist, Marc, Ryan and Erica, who offered training advice and encouragement, my parents and sister, and all the absolutely wonderful people who contributed to my fundraiser.  You are all amazing.  Thank you so so so much.

The race itself went okay.  The weather was atrocious and much worse than the forecast, so I was underdressed for the cold and the wet.  My poor legs were freezing for most of it.  I ran the first 9 miles or so on pace and felt good, but my injury flared up a bit in mile nine and got pretty bad through mile 11, and I honestly wasn't sure I could keep going.  I was counting down miles until I could get to the aid station where my husband was waiting, and focusing exclusively on just getting there, not even thinking about the rest of the race.  I was crying a little with the pain and discouragement, and I ran right into The Husband for a huge hug.  I hugged him hugged him and then turned and kept running, reinvigorated by the love and support, and determined to get to the finish line somehow.

I was hurting for another few miles, and then my injury quieted down a bit and I relaxed and just let my pace be about 30 seconds off goal.  I was fine until I got to the St. Johns Bridge, or rather, the hill leading up to the bridge.  That thing is a bear, and most of the runners were just walking up it.  The skies opened up and started raining in earnest, and I struggled with my jacket to try to stay as warm and dry as possible.  The fiddling with my jacket accidentally reset my watch, and I couldn't get it reset.  So I had no more pace counter and only the mile markers on the course to go by, but I knew I was going sloooooow.  Getting up the hill was slow, and then afterward I was exhausted and my hip started bothering me again.  I trudged along, counting down the miles until Mile Marker 20, when I would meet my friend Jared.  Three miles, two miles, one mile... When I saw him I almost burst into tears again.  There is something profoundly comforting about knowing that you don't have to go it alone for the hardest part.

Jared was a little worried about my injury and the condition I was in... I was way off pace and in some pain, but he found exactly the right balance of encouragement and humor and he ran a foot or so ahead of me to gently, gently, push the pace.  I sped up quite a bit my last five miles thanks to him, and I kept going when I wanted badly to quit.  Every mile marker I asked him, "I can run __ more miles, right?"  And he would say "yes.  You got this!"  When we passed Mile Marker 25, he pushed the pace a little more, and kept saying "almost there!  Almost there!"  He was infectious and encouraging and generally awesome.  We had to part ways when I got the finisher's chute, and I ran the last 200 yards alone, under my own power.

I was searching frantically for The Husband at the finish line, but I never saw him.  He was there, searching for me, but I missed him somehow.  He missed me, too, and when I called him from the line for my finisher's shirt, he thought I was still running!  After the finish line, they hand you all kinds of random stuff, I ate a bagel and some juice and some flatbread and whatever other food they had, and then they gave me a medal, a coin, a finisher's charm, a shirt, an emergency blanket, and a rose.  I was holding all that stuff when I finally met up with The Husband and Jared again.  When I finally saw the husband, he engulfed me in a huge hug and fed  me and warmed me up and held all my marathon things and generally took care of me all the way home.

Except for bathroom breaks and water breaks, I ran the whole thing.  I didn't stop and walk on the hills; I didn't stop and walk when I was crying from pain, or discouragement or grief.  I just ran.  I laughed when he told me this, but my friend Marc was right:  You just show up, start running, and then keep doing that until the finish line.  So, I just kept doing that.