Tuesday, February 23, 2010

I survived the Shamrock Marathon!!!

(March 16, 2008)

I don't really have the time or energy to get into all the fantastic details...but here are the basics of my marathon experience (somewhat in order):

I ran.
I felt good.
I felt cold.
I hated the wind.
I laughed at people.
I laughed with people.
I saw two guys that looked like they were hating life.
At the 11 mile marker I told them to cheer up, we only had another 2 miles to go.
They looked really surprised so I asked them, "Isn't this the half-marathon?"
"OMG! No! You're in the wrong race! This is the marathon!" they quickly said to me.
I laughed and told them I was kidding.
They laughed.
I drafted some people.
Some guy kissed me on the cheek thinking my shamrock headband was mistletoe.
I saw my cheering section.
I felt awesome.

I ate a few crackers.
I had some water.
I felt OK.
I started running head-on into the wind.
I didn't feel good.
I felt tired.
I hated it.
I saw the first marathoners coming back to finish and I was only passing the half-way marker.
I wanted to die.
I saw a friend.
I felt ashamed he saw me walking.
I was sore.
I was exhausted.
I hit the wall much earlier than I anticipated.
I had to walk.
I ran.
I walked.
I ran.
I walked.
I stretched.
I wanted to cry.
I saw the pace group that I wanted to be in pass me by.
I walked.
I couldn't concentrate.
A guy with an Ipod and speakers on his back ran by and motioned for me to follow.
I followed him.
I ran again.
I was in pain.
Legs didn't work.
Back was in pain.
Everything hurt.
Tried sucking down a powergel.
Drank two cups of water to wash it down.
Almost threw up.
I wanted to die some more.
Couldn't keep up with the guy and his ipod.
I walked again.
I hated Va. Beach.
I hated wind.
I hated mother nature.
5 hour pace group passed me and I wanted to quit.
I walked some more.
I got pissed off.
I started running.
I saw my husband.
I felt like collapsing.
I kept going.
Then I felt better.
I ran.
I walked.
I ran.
I walked.
I talked to my husband.
I ran.
My body was shutting down.
I couldn't feel my fingers.
I wanted to cry.
I was so hungry.
My husband called my Mom and handed me the phone.
I couldn't talk to her without crying.
I was at my breaking point.
I handed the phone back to him.
I kept going.
My husband sang some jodies with me.
We laughed.
We talked.
I ran.
I walked.
I ran.
I saw Jenny and Blair.
They walked with me.
I had an entourage.
I felt good.
I was a rock star.

I got pissed off again.
I needed to finish.
I ran.
I ran.
I ran.
I saw my cheering squad again.
I ran.
I ran.
I ran.

I finished.

My husband was awesome and recorded what he could of the marathon!

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