Monday, September 23, 2013

Well, they didn't say rum.....

But they did say FREE BEER at the finish line, so there's that.

I know you all have been waiting with bated breath (HA!) for me to post about the marathon, but it's taken me a day or so to wrap my head around the whole thing.  So here's the lowdown.

First and foremost, let me just say I think I'll be ticking half marathons off the ol' bucket list.  

So, the good stuff....

The weather was great.  A little drizzly in the AM, but nice and cool.  It stayed overcast most of the morning, which kept the temp down.  The sun came out around mile 8, but it was still great weather. It never got hot.

It was the Air Force Marathon, and the course took us through Wright Patt.  I got to see some very cool things I never would have had the chance to see otherwise.  Also, since it was on base, service men (and women, of course) were guarding the barricades and they were cheering us on.  They cheered us as we ran/walked by, and we thanked them for their service.

I got a medal!  Not a first place (or even 50th place) medal, but I have a beautiful finishers medal that I will forever be proud of.  

My boy stayed at my side the whole time, even though I'm sure it was killing him to stay at my pace.  And we walked with a very dear friend.  I still say she is a dear friend, even though she's the one who suckered us into this in the first place.

Free beer!  And water, milk (eww, right?  But I guess runners swear by it), huge chunks of bread, bananas and LaRosa's pizza at the finish line.

I burned over 2300 calories in just over 4 hours.  YEAH!!!!

Now, the not so good...

I can't lie, you guys.  I'mma bring it to you raw.  It was brutal.  BRUTAL.  I kept thinking "13.1 miles?  Eh, I'm going to walk it.  No sweat."  Because really, who can't walk 13 miles, amIright? 

I will just tell you that by mile 7, the boy and I weren't even talking out of the need for me to conserve energy.  By mile 9, I was stopping at least once, if not twice, a mile to stretch.  About mile 10, my muscles were on fire and my feet hurt like nothing I've ever felt and I had to will myself not to cry.

Around mile 8, this was our conversation:
Boy:  Come on, babe.  You can do this.
Me:  I know.  I know.  *whimper* OhmyGodIhurtallover.
Boy:  But we're almost done!  We just hit mile 8!
Me:  That is so, so good.  Wait a minute... mile 8?  That means we have FIVE MORE TO GO!

Not only did I do a 13.1 mile course, but it was no less than a 1 mile walk from car to starting line, and from finish line back to car.  I.  Wanted.  To.  Die.

My feet still hurt.  I've been gimping around for two days.  No foolies.

But here's the thing.  There are no words to describe going down the final quarter mile stretch, under the wings of old military planes, and crossing that finish line.  My legs were barely holding me up by then and I was so exhausted I was willing myself into putting one foot in front of the other, but I had the biggest smile as I crossed.  

So, no - I have absolutely no desire to do a half marathon ever again.  You have my full permission to bust my chops if I sign up next year.  But I do want to keep running.  10k's?  I'd totally be down for that.  You know... once I can walk normally again. 


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