The marathon was obviously Sunday. Since you're reading this, I clearly lived to tell the tale; unfortunately, I couldn't report back about it right away because I had to get caught up on all the school work I shirked over marathon weekend (Guilt, is that you? Of course it is-- my constant companion, sigh.) So I'm here, alive and well. I can't begin to desribe the intense relief I presently feel. As my previous posts indicated, I was extremely nervous that this was not going to happen for me. First there was the stress fracture, then there was the fact that I had taken on so much this fall, and those combined items fell under the undeniable fact that anything can happen during a marathon.
Eric and I arrived at the Elsmo Four's home on Friday evening. As per usual, we went to set our stuff down when we got there. I went upstairs to ditch my bag and was greeted by balloons, streamers, and hand-crafted posters. It was amazing!! (I saved the posters; when I finally get a chance to incorporate pictures I will add them to the blog) Each poster held a slightly different significance, and I was extremely grateful for each one.
Saturday, Eric and I got up to run my last two miles before the marathon (why they have you run two miles the day before a marathon I'll never know...), and then we went down to McCormick Place for packet pickup. Talk about a running extravaganza-- running companies and paraphenalia everywhere! Eric got new running shoes, and I got a a commemorative jacket since I'm sure I'll wear out the shirt that came in our packet materials. It was very exciting; if I hadn't been facing the big 26.2 the next morning I probably would have really enjoyed it. Saturday night, Mel cooked the perfect pre-race dinner with whole wheat pasta, salmon, spinach, zuchini, and mushrooms. I went to bed early so that I wouldn't be tempted to sleep on one of the medical-tent gurneys mid-race.
Sunday, Eric got up at the crack of dawn to head downtown with me. I was SO nervous. Normally my competitive streak takes over in these kinds of situations, I get pumped up on adrenaline, and then I'm ready to go... but that never happened with the marathon. This time I knew what I was in for, and my competitive streak was completely drowned out by fear of the unknown. Eric asked me where I wanted him on the course. I said mile 23; I had a feeling that I would be flagging a bit at the end and if I got to see him at mile 23 then I would be close enough to make it to the end. The race began and the first 10 miles were fun. There were people everywhere cheering-- it was incredibly exciting. Unfortunately, the race didn't end at mile 10. As the sun climbed higher, the course kept going. It was HOT and kept getting hotter. At mile 16 I started wondering if I was going to make it, but pushed those thoughts out of my head, refocusing my attention to mile 20 which would put me within a 5K's distance of my cheering section. Mile 23 came and went-- somehow I missed Eric, and the Elsmo Four cheering like crazy. I wish I hadn't; I could've used a little love at that point in the course. Everything hurt, and the sun was wearing me down. Finally, I hit Michigan Ave. and then the bridge to Columbus, and then the finish line. Eric found me just after the finish, and I swear I've never been so happy to see someone in my whole life. We met back up with the Elsmo Four and my best friend Julie over by the Joffrey Ballet.
It's moments like that where words completely fail to express how grateful a person can be to have the love and support of their friends and family. This was not about running a marathon for me; it represented a lot more -- in many ways, it was the physical manifestation of a lot of the things I've I had to wrangle with. Having that group of loved ones at the end was the best way to end this particular journey, since really, they've traveled with me the whole time whether they knew it or not.
So here I am, recounting the tale. Oh, and just to reconfirm-- run really is a verb.
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