26.2!

We did it! It is hard to believe even still, but Bridget and I ran our first-and according to both of us-our only Marathon. It was a lot of fun, a lot of work, a lot of determination, and a lot of pain. Maybe I should back up and start from the beginning, to give you an idea of how it all came about.

Our day started out at 4:30 in the morning. We woke up, got dressed, packed our bags, and ate whatever we felt our stomachs could keep down. We then piled into the neon, and drove through the dusk of early morning towards our dreaded doom. After parking the car and following the trail of runners to the starting line, the reality of what we were about to do was finally sinking in. We both felt nervous, anxious, and jumpy. And walking around the corner and seeing the starting line, did nothing to help ease these feelings. It only intensified them. As the seconds ticked by, and the designated starting time approached, our anticipation, eagerness, and anxiety only increased. When the gun finally went off, and we actually started our greatly anticipated marathon, we were both able to relax…somewhat. The first half of the marathon went well. We ran across the Golden Gate Bridge, and through Golden Gate Park. It was beautiful, and frankly, a lot of fun. I had a disposable camera, and took pictures the entire time. However, when I hit the half-way mark (13.1), my enthusiasm started to waver. I realized I still had 13.1 miles to go, and it did not sound all too appealing. I finally put the camera away, and continued running, but without as much gusto. And by the time I hit mile 18, my zeal had completely worn off. My feet hurt, and my legs were not much better. I couldn’t believe that I still had 8 more miles to go. I kept wondering over and over again what I had gotten myself into. I could then see why people say running is such a mental game. I had to keep my mind as well as my body going. I had to keep my head in the game. But luckily, after a while, my feet and legs did not get any worse. In fact, I sort of became immune to the pain. And that immunity helped me to continue to run mile after mile. And when I finally got down to two miles left, it was at that point, that I knew I could finish. I kicked it in harder, and picked up my pace, in my great desire to cross the finish line. When I finally rounded the last corner, and saw the greatly anticipated finish line, I could hardly believe it. Just the mere sight of it, gave me the motivation I needed to kick my legs in gear, sprint the final leg of the race, and complete my goal of running a marathon.

Crossing the finish line after running 26.2 miles is something I shall never forget. As hard as the marathon was, it is something I am extremely glad I did. It was worth it in so many ways, and the feeling of accomplishment was worth every sacrifice.