I have great news! I'm alive!
Final time for my marathon run: 4:29:04. I was extremely excited to know I made it under four and a half hours. The whole time I was running that's what I was thinking: I really want to get under four and half.
All in all, great experience. I was REALLY starting to feel it around mile 24, but by then you're all in. Nothing left to do but move forward and hope that your limp body doesn't fall to the pavement before you cross the finish line. And if it does, hope that its at a point where the momentum of your tumbling carries you over the line. What a great photo finish that would be.
Most would say that I'm a glutton for punishment, but I truly enjoyed myself, and not just because I accomplished a life goal. The support of friends and family I had backing me, that ridiculous poster my friend Phil made for the event, and all the other inspiring/ridiculous posters people had made for runners all made the experience unforgettable. A few of my favorite signs/posters:
"Worst parade ever."
"There will come a day when you can no longer do this. Today is not that day."
"Because 26.3 miles would just be CRAZY."
"I'm lazy."
And a few others which I've forgotten in the foggy haze of my post adrenal mind. But the one in the photo above was the one I was looking for, because it meant, "Hey, there's some blue Gatorade and a Cliff bar up ahead."
The question is, "Now what?" I'm done. Months of training, treating my body as well as I could, and following through with my mad dream to the end has paid off. The race is over. Mom suggested Boston Marathon. The qualifying time is three hours and ten minutes. I have to beat my time by an hour and nineteen minutes. I don't think that'll be happening anytime soon.
I will admit, this has given me more of a vigor for life, not wanting to be complacent but to push the limits as far as they can go, no matter what I do. Two years ago, had you told me I was to finish a marathon, I would've laughed. Or maybe I would've have believed you, yet still been shocked. Until a couple years ago, a little over two miles on the tredmill was all I could do before I became winded. That was my limit, until I created new limits. So, a limit isn't really a limit at all in some circumstances. A limit tells you what you can do right now. But it stands there, waiting for you to push past it, and when you do it has to catch up in order to stop you again. And again. And again.
So seriously, not trying to be a motivational poster in the 90's, but you really can do whatever you want. You simply have to be willing to work. You can't expect it to just happen. It took a year and a half to go from two miles to 26.2 miles. It was tough. There were bad days that involved the walk of shame to finish. Then there were days where I felt like I could run through brick walls and keep going. There is no end. You make your own ends.
Most things are mental anyway. We think it's impossible. Running a marathon sounds hard, I agree. Truly, its one of the easiest things. You put one foot in front of the other. That's it. You don't have to do anything else. You don't have to play an intricate line on the piano. You don't have to solve a difficult physics equation. You don't have to perform brain surgeory. You just have to put one foot in front of the other. Pain, discomfort, that's all mental. You can over come that, unless your leg actually snaps in two. But if you keep running, I'd really really respect you. That's hardcore.
In other news, my mother tells me my Aunt Pegge has sent me a typewriter owned by my great-grandfather, Silas Clark. Really excited about that. So, for any of your who legitamately planned to send me a typewriter and looked through all the local antique malls, I'm grateful but the need is no longer present. You can go back about your business. I'll ask for something later though.
That's all I have. Glad we had this little pep talk. Take care. Push those limits.
Peace.
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