This weekend was the 14th Annual Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon. And, as you know, completing a marathon is one of the things on my 30 by 30 list. I’ve been training with my sister for the past 4 1/2 months and the day FINALLY came.
Saturday night, I was super nervous. We picked up our packets the day before and I was sitting in my recliner, looking at the course map. I could not believe it. My stomach started to churn and so many thoughts raced through my head: Can I do this? Can I actually do this? What if I die?!
I went to bed Saturday night confident that I could do the marathon. After all, I had run 20 miles just a few weeks before and I did fine! I was a little sore the next day, but I survived. And on race day, adrenaline kicks in and really takes your endurance to the next level.
The race was set to start at 6:30 a.m. Sunday morning. I got up at 5:00 to pump and get dressed. The news was on and the weatherman was predicting a lot of rain, hail, and possibly a tornado. I still didn’t worry. Two years ago, I did a half marathon in the rain and I did just fine! I’d be okay.
We got to the race and I could feel the excitement. There were so many people! I even met a Biggest Loser!
As the morning went on, the weather started getting worse and worse. We were forced into a parking garage where we learned we’d be waiting for the next TWO HOURS.
When we finally started, my legs were tight (from the lack of fluids and from sitting/standing for TWO HOURS) but I was excited. I was ready to start this journey and check this off my list. Here’s how the race went…
Its raining a little. There are A LOT of people running and even more people walking in my way. My inner monologue went a little something like this:
Get out of my way. Seriously, MOVE! Get. Out. Of. My. WAY.
Oh geez, that was a big puddle. Are my socks wet? No, they’re fine. Whew!
Holy crap, that’s a steep downward hill. I’m going to slip. I’m going to slip. I’m going to twist my ankle and fall.
You didn’t fall, good job.
Where is the *&^%$#@ water stop?!
Okay, first water stop and bathroom break. *Sigh* I feel MUCH better! I can do this!
Oh, hey! There’s my dad and Huff the Hubs! *waves to them*
Ha! Look at that poster! *Stops to take a picture of the poster and points out Allonsy! on bib*
Ugh. Is this “Gorilla Hill” up here? Crap, it is.
I hate this frakking hill.
Better wave BB down and let her know I’m walking.
Might as well take a picture.
I want to quit. I want to quit. Tell your sister you want to quit.
Kill me. KILL. ME.
Why is it so $%^# hot?!
There’s a medical tent. Just stop and tell them to take you to the finish line.
Me (to Bridget): “I don’t want to do this anymore!”
Bridget: “Too bad! Keep moving!”
Me (starting to sob): “Bridget, my legs hurt so bad!”
Bridget: “Then let’s walk.”
Me (crying and thinking): I’m crying but I can’t produce any tears because I’m so dehydrated! I’m like Howard!
I feel the blisters on my feet. Every step is agony. I’m wielding my arms like a granny power-walking at the mall. The sun is beating down on me and I realize I haven’t put on ANY sunscreen. I actually think: I’d rather give birth, right here, right now on this asphalt than do this!
*&^% @#$% *&^%$ @#$% ^&%$ *&^% *&^%
Get to the finish line so you can use your breast pump!
We meet a woman we’ve been keeping pace with the whole time. We start talking. She’s 45, from Little Rock, AR, and this is her second full marathon. We talk about our aches, our pains, how we weren’t expecting it to be so hot (88*!) and how ready we are for the finish line. We talk the rest of the way.
The finish line is in sight.
Bridget: “Come on! Let’s run across the finish line!”
Me: “UUUGGGGHHHH!!!!” *wills legs to move and crosses the finish line*
At the Finish Line:
*Gets medal and Finisher shirt*
I did it! I freaking did it! I completed a marathon! Thank you, God, for helping me get through this! And I’m sorry for swearing in my head so much.
I can’t believe I did it!
I’m NEVER doing that again. Like, EVER.
Running (who am I kidding–walking) that marathon was the absolute hardest thing I have ever done in my life. Every part of my body hurt. I was starving; I hadn’t eaten in seven hours. SEVEN. FREAKING. HOURS. I was dehydrated, covered in salt and sweat, and burnt to a flippin’ crisp:
But I did it. I finished it. And, actually, I’d say it was worth it. The months of waking up early every Saturday to do long runs; the solo runs through the neighborhood in temps of 30*; the sore joints and muscles…it was worth it. Why? Because I achieved a goal. Seven months ago, I was giving birth. Seven months ago, I never thought I’d be able to do this. But I did. I am a marathoner. I am a Finisher.
(I want to say that there is NO way I’d be able to have done this without the support of my family. My sister was the BEST running partner I could’ve asked for. She was so incredibly supportive the entire time–training and all! My husband, my parents, my friends, my family; they were all so great! But mostly I could NOT have done it without The Lord. He gave me the drive, the dream, and the perseverance to do this. Even though I hated it at times, I am so glad I did this, and that He got me through it!)