Bib 358

When I was in seventh grade I went with my best bud Sharstin and her family to watch her dad run the St. George Marathon. I remember the two of us standing at about mile 25 screaming our guts out. He is an amazing runner and I think I felt as proud as she did when he went by. I also remember being inspired hours later when there were still people dragging themselves across the finish line.
There is something so special about a marathon and I decided in my 12-year-old heart that I would run my own 26.2 one day.
There are a lot of things that I thought were cool when I was 12 that have (wisely) fallen to the wayside, but the race never did. It took me 15 years to get up the guts to do it and it was pretty awesome.

At the end of September when we moved to Eugene I was woefully out of shape. I went out for my first run in "Track Town USA" and only made it a half a mile before I had to turn around and come back. By December I could handle a pretty solid 5K and had caught the enthusiasm from the people who run past my apartment on a daily basis. For the first time in my life I had no job, few time constraints, and no excuse for why I couldn't complete a training program. Besides, when in Rome...
I still didn't really think I could do it until Brandon signed us both up, then I knew that I had to do it whether I was ready or not.
Out of all the great things that have happened to me in Eugene, the training was one of the best. I spent many beautiful mornings pushing my little girl in her baby jogger and enjoying the trail system. If this were a movie, this would be the part with the montage of me jogging, sweating, and icing sore muscles. It looks really glorifying when all that work is shoved into 4 minutes with the Rocky soundtrack blasting. In real life it was a slow process of going a little bit further every run. Some days it was just a pain, or a chore that I needed to get through. But, for the most part, it was time for me to enjoy being outside and using my body.
My favorite moments were the long runs that Brandon would do with us. I can't really describe how awesome it has been to spend Saturday mornings on gorgeous trails with my best friend and my baby girl. Some of those runs were physically and mentally agonizing, but as we finished he would look at me with a big smile and I would feel like the happiest girl in Eugene.

The marathon itself was a lot more demanding than I had anticipated. I was starting to feel burnout at around mile 15 and by 16 my quads were experiencing cramping spasms. Brandon had a lot of trouble with his calves. I think that we under-trained because both of our legs just kind of fell apart. When I look back on the actual race I have a blur of memories, like a dream. I just remember one long, neverending road and aching legs.


My sister Jill had waited at mile 18 to cheer us on and give us a gel pack and she rode her bike with me for a couple miles which helped me more than I can say. Mike, Brandon's dad also really came through by standing at the coldest, most windy spot in the course at mile 23. When you are completely exhausted a familiar face and an encouraging word becomes invaluable.
At that point I knew that I was not going to even come close to my goal-time but it became a matter, not of running fast, but of running at all. I was passed by an old man and a really big girl that looked like she was going about a snail's pace. This was different than the blog I wrote last week because in this case I knew exactly how far they had gone and how far they still had to go. But, at that point, I didn't care at all what the people around me were doing.
As I got closer and closer to the finish line I wondered if my legs were going to collapse. When I rounded the corner at 26 the .2 was lined with cheering people and my eyes started getting teary when I knew for sure that I had made it.
I am pretty grateful to my body because it gave its all.
Eric had cruised so fast that he was there to meet me with the biggest grin I've ever seen and pretty soon I was yelling as Brandon came through. I was filled with euphoria and adrenaline.
We watched the finish line for a while, which is an emotional experience. You can't watch people who are completely physically drained accomplishing their goal without being touched. Marathon running is so cool because there are people of all ages and physical types that do it, and everyone is welcome and honored.
The second wave of pain didn't come for a couple of hours. My toenail had turned black and was barely hanging on and my shoulders, back and every part of my legs were aching.
I finished at 4:48 which was much slower than I had planned, but I feel good about it. The funny thing is that now that I have a P.R. I'm already figuring out how to beat it the next time.

I need to give a special thanks to Sharstin and Tom, Jess Kearns and Kristin Bell who have no idea how they have inspired me to achieve this goal. I also need to thank my friends at Spencer View, Stephanie and Laurie who have given me encouragement along the way. Thanks to my family and friends who have given me courage by believing in me. Thanks to my parents for watching Rocky and cheering us on, to Mike for braving the wind, and Jill for sticking with me in the hardest moments. Thanks to Eric who rocked the race, third male -- We will always have Newport. Thanks to my sweet husband who finished his first marathon the day after his 30th birthday. Without him I could have never done it.
One more special thanks goes to Rocky who patiently sat in that jogger for hours and hours without complaint.

Now the next question is, which race should I do next year? I think it has to be Eugene.