Because 26.3 Would Be Just Plain Crazy

 The weather was beautiful, the course was long, and I thankfully walked away on my own two legs with a medal at my chest. I can now check off marathon on my list of things to do, again.

The run went well. I wish their was a better way to describe it. The first four miles that covered the main streets of Des Moines flew by undercover of the scores of people running alongside. Once we hit Grand and lost the half-marathoners to a left turn, things got a little more spacious, and hilly. No sweat here (besides the profuse amount of sweat coming from my body), I enjoyed the run while my legs still felt good.

Mile 9 brought about a very long stretch of road that circled and turned back at the historic Drake Relay's big blue track. Big props to the rock n' rollers playing for the tired runners. It was this 7 mile stretch that I let my body relax and began thinking of all the steps that led me there.

Thoughts such as "why am I doing this?" or "is this really worth all of the trouble?" came into my mind. I can not lie, marathon training begins to lose it's appeal near the end. The long runs, the sore knees, and the attention to detail on things such as stretching, eating, sleeping, and preparing can sometime feel like the stressors that originally got me to start running. In my head, the goal grew out of my control, I created a monster and ready or not, I was along for the ride.

Mile 16 brought the course back into the South of Grand area onto the Water Works and Greys Lake trail systems. Things were going well, I was running a few minutes ahead of my pace and passing people, until I saw the loop. Somewhere around mile 17 a crossroads appeared and in the distance the mile long loop I was about to run came into full sight. And in seeing what I faced, I began to hurt. I took my first walking steps in over two hours. Times were tough and all I could do at that point was turn my hat around to cover my eyes and pull out any grit left remaining.

The last 8 or so miles was a lot of the same thing. No more high-fives or joking with the crowd, no more light legs or non-chaffed nipples, and still one question lingering "why do I do this?"

Reaching mile 25 was a relief, but still not the end yet, and it took more then concentration to keep pedaling at the pavement. It wasn't until I rounded the corner at SW 3rd street (near the science center) that things started to fall into place. Turning the corner I saw the big red #26 pass on the left. I left my legs behind as I began sprinting towards the the big blue FINISH LINE banner down the block.

FINISH LINE

I felt a wave of emotion propel me towards the end and a feeling of relief that relaxed over my shoulders. The miles added up correctly and as I crossed the finish line I began walking, glad to be over with it. I understood for that brief moment of clarity after the long run, I understood why I did it. I understood as I held the finisher medal as my tangible proof of accomplishment, I understood as I saw others finishing with their hands raised in the air, and I understood as a completed marathon and $1,000 worth of fundraising lay behind in my footsteps. I wish I could explain it though...

Once again though, life does go on. I am looking forward to relaxing, itching that rock climbing bug, and figuring out where the long run will take me next. It's a big world out there and it's worth discovering; here's to what's behind us, what's in front of us, and what's coming next.

                               DREAMING BIG CAN'T HURT YOU

PERMANENTLY