26.2 Miles Later

Let me start by saying that the race was hard, extremely hard. But let me back up to the start of the weekend.

We arrived Friday night in Denver and then drove over an hour to visit Will's sister in Greely. We went out to eat and spent the night with her. Unfortunately, it was a rough night because a dog she was pet sitting may have peed on Will in the middle of the night and thrown up on my feet. Then it was morning and we headed to back to the airport to pick up the mothers.

Saturday was a jam packed day. We check into the hotel (which was pretty sweet), went to pick up our race packets at the race expo, and finally ate some food. Luckily, Will and I were able to take a nap that afternoon. But then we went out to eat to the Old Spaghetti Factory, it was an hour and a half wait. We did not get back to our hotel until around 10 pm. Um, I was pretty much hoping to be IN bed at 9pm. Well, Becca had come in to stay with us that night with her doggie. It turns out it is fairly difficult to fall asleep with three other people in the room and a dog that is bouncing off the walls. So I probably fell asleep at 1 am and was up at 5:15 am. ( I had not mentioned it yet, but I was a complete nervous wreck all weekend. So not being able to fall asleep was awful, just awful.)

Race Day!! I was very hopeful. Everyone had told me that I was more than prepared with the amount of training I had done, blah, blah, blah. However, for the past two weeks, during my tapering period (where we cut back on the miles we are running), I hurt every. single. run. I pretty much hurt non-stop. I thought that this would fade by the time race day was here, but apparently I was wrong.

I did not just want to run a marathon, I wanted to run a marathon well. I wanted to not skip out on the training, push myself, and reap the benefits of all those months of incredibly hard work to pay off. Because of those goals, I was very upset with the results. I hurt from mile 1. There was no difference in my mind between mile 10 to mile 23, they all ached terribly. I usually reach a point in my runs, where I am actually enjoying running. I can look around at my surroundings, take everything in, its almost effortless. I never reached that point in the race. Every mile, I had to mentally push through. Will says that this is what I should be proud of, that I never gave up and pushed through until the end. I guess I am prideful (well, I know I am) and wanted to finish in a time worth bragging about. A time that shows I trained a killer amount for this race and owned it.

Even though I was frustrated with how the race turned out, I am thankful for it. The race brought our an opportunity for us to see our family again. It was so awesome to have them there supporting us along the race. It was also nice to have someone else to cry to besides Will (sorry, mom). They bought all our meals and took care of us just like only moms only know how.

And, Will. He was beyond words. He stood by my side the entire months we have trained and never once left my side during the race. He encouraged me every mile (every step actually) and helped push me through to the finish. He knew how defeated I felt and had a constant word of affirmation through out the day for me. He also kept his laughing to a minimum when I was hobbling through the airport.

I am trying really hard to be proud of the fact, I RAN A MARATHON!!! I went from not being able to fathom running that far, to taking on the training, and running in the race. I should be proud.

All the pictures are on my mother's camera. When she gets them to me, I will post them.

I am off to spend some quality time with my pup who could care less if I run or not. All she cares about is that I am home and can give her all the belly rubs she desires.