I am certifiably crazy

So many people supported me, prayed for me, cheered me on that I feel I owe an overview of my experience of the marathon that I did on September 1.  It is really hard to put to words how it was except that it was hard.  I compared it to child birth in that it had stages of wanting to quit, anger, denial, and transition, but I didn't get a baby(thank goodness!), I got the privilege of joining the 1% of the population who can say they did a marathon.

Now, you notice I say "did", not "run".  I intended to run, but that did not happen.  I ran about eight miles, then I switched to run/walk for about five or six miles, then I walked.  No one could make me run and I was not going to run.  I can be stubborn.  The pace team for the 5 and 1/2 hour pace came and said, "we are running 4 minutes and walking 1 minutes", that sounded do-able and I did it for about 2 rotations and decided, no, I am walking.  Then came the 6 hour pace team and they said, "we are running 3 minutes and walking 2 minutes", that really sounded do-able, if they would have come around at the beginning, but I chose to let them go, too.  Now, I needed to walk fast, because I really didn't want the "sweepers" to pass me, because they symbolize the end of the race and if you come in after them, you get a DNF, which means "Did Not Finish".  That was the motivation I had to keep moving, as quickly as my tired, grumpy, stubborn self would go.  I did not want a DNF.

My daughter participated also.  She was the instigator and motivator for the whole thing.  She is nearly half my age and has never had a baby to compare the experience to.  She would see me on the course because of the layout of the course.  It was a screwy layout.  Let me tell you about it.  We started and went about 3 miles out, then turned around and went about 9 miles back past the way we came, then we turned around and did those same stupid 9 miles again (while the 1/2 marathoners finished up by heading to the finish), and then we could go to the finish.  It was torture to turn around to do it again, partly because the majority of the runners were 1/2 marathoners.  So, anyway, I would see her on all those turn arounds, we would meet because she was ahead of me.  She would tell my husband and the others about my disposition when she saw them, usually that I was not happy.

At mile 18, my sister-in-law started walking beside me to take my mind off the torture I was putting myself through.  She did a great job, but I was not talking (that is another thing I did when I was having babies, just shut up and go through it).  I was not great company.  Bernie, my husband, joined us and decided that he would stay with me to the end.  That left my other daughter who was on the cheering team to pack up everything and get the car and stuff to the finish line.  (She had plenty of time, no rush).

Bernie was great.  He kept asking if I needed anything and all I wanted was water.  I was so thirsty.  The weather warmed up and I was parched.  He had a water bottle that he insisted upon carrying for me. My oldest daughter had made index cards with Bible verses on them for each mile.  I was behind on reading them, so I gave them to him and he read them to me sporadically.  I also had a band on my arm that football players use for their plays that I used to write prayer requests that people had given me and our immediate family and siblings and families, so then we started praying though the list, we both come from large families, so that kept us occupied for a three or four miles.  It is amazing what I can do when I am not thinking about me.

When the finish line was in sight, it was two of my sisters holding it up since the organizers had to start dismantling the course for the road to be opened up.  I was so blessed to see them and their spouses and the small children cheering their hearts out for me.  I decided I could run.  I ran it in and found my co-runner daughter, and cried.  I finished. I am loved.  I did it.  I feel blessed.  I need to sit down.  I want ice.  The medic started putting ice bags in my shirt, under my arms, I was lumpy with ice and could not feel the cold.  All of my nerves gave up working just to keep my blood pumping, I guess.

So one of my main take aways from this certifiably crazy event is that I need community.  I need people to support me, come alongside me, care for me, love me, pray for me.  AND I think most everyone does.  It is a lonely place to do it alone.  There was a gal who came in later who had no one there to take her home.  I felt terrible for her.  She was okay with it, but that is not me.  God created me to need people and He gave people to me.  I want to thank each of you who prayed for me on that day.  I honestly don't know if I could have done it without it.  Although, I was wishing for an angel to pick me up and carry me, that didn't happen, but I had lots of angels ministering to my needs, some of them in forms of people, the policeman who went to his cruiser for a bottle of water, the people who set out sprinklers for us, the guy on the hood of his car promising me that he wouldn't quit banging his cow bell until I came back past the 4th time, my sisters who made signs and t-shirts for us, my brother-in-law who got a pretty good sized blister from coming alongside my daughter, and my husband who went above and beyond the call of duty to finish with me.  None of those good deeds will be forgotten for a long time.

Will I do it again, you ask?  I don't think so.  I was so crabby and annoyed.  But, then again, I said the same thing when I had my first child....and we have three.  Who knows.  I think I am a half marathon girl, but I do have a pink 26.2 sticker on the back of my Escape and that makes me pretty happy.