A Dubious Victory. on Flickr.
I keep promising a post-marathon post-mortem, but finding that I don’t have a lot of time in my life to think about things even one week past. Ooops.
So, in a rush before I head out the door to aerial, here’s the take-away:
My goal time was 4 hours, 20 minutes (about a 10 minute mile). I apparently ran the first half way too fast, because Jessica found out that at the half-marathon mark, I was slotted to finish in 3 hours, someodd.
And then, as I am learning is typical on my long runs, I started having emotional temper tantrums right around mile 18. In fact, exactly at mile 18. Honestly, if you ever need to make a map, you can get it to perfect scale if you just set me loose in my running gear and then wait until I get whiney.
I started thinking too hard.
I started crying.
Yes, crying.
And then I couldn’t breathe and I had to stop running. I started walking. Backward, toward the finish line, looking at the other runners, who had been slower than me, as they approached and passed me.
….
So here is where you guys came in.
As far as I know,
- I had at least 15 people running “with” me.
- I had running buddies in at least three countries.
- Somewhere in Florida, an 8-year-old girl was running with me.
- Back in Oregon, my 60-something mom was running with me.
- You guys make excellent wing-men, but terrible documentarians!
I’m estimating about a mile apiece for those of you who weren’t sure of your distance (that’s 10-15 minutes of running)…..so with these terms defined:
- You guys covered about 35 miles.
- A marathon is only 26 miles.
Feeling the love here.
And far off at the finish line, someone was standing still, waiting for me to run to her.
When I remembered that I was making half the internet suffer with me, I bucked up and got to work.
Sooooo a Huge thank-you, to those of you who ran with me, and to those of you who encouraged me to do this thing. Honestly, silly as it is, I think I might still be whining at the side of some road in a foreign city, if not for your solidarity.
….
The end result?
I finished late. 4 hours and 45 minutes. About an 11 minute mile average. I keep reminding myself that that is a respectable time, a respectable pace even if I ran the whole distance. Trying not to feel like the marathon defeated me.
Sooooooo. There will be a next time. And I am going to do things a bit differently. And I am going to train the fuck out of my 18 mile tantrums.
