WE DID IT!

And I do mean we. Second only to natural childbirth, running the marathon was the most difficult thing-- both mentally and physically-- that I've ever done in my life. However, much like childbirth, I didn't do it alone. I couldn't have done it alone. I am overwhelmed with gratitude towards my family for the amazing support system that they were on Saturday.

Little Miss C, for example: best. cheerleader. ever. No surprise, I'm sure. The family met me every few miles to wave and pass me water. Little Miss C would often run a few meters with me. 

E waved from the car. All the children were surprisingly cheerful considering we dragged them out of bed at 4 a.m. in order to get to the race on time.

For the first 6-8 miles, I was full of adrenaline.  I could tell that the uphill climb was taxing my legs, but I was excited and had to keep admonishing myself to pace myself and conserve energy. Between mile 8 and 16, I was in a zone. It was work, but I could comfortably concentrate. I was optamistic, listening to music and popping Swedish Fish and sport jelly beans to refuel. 

Between miles 16 and 20, I hit the wall. I was in major pain, and while I'd been telling myself that the way home would be downhill, it didn't feel that way at all. I used some GU, but was worried that the caffeine it contained was the reason I couldn't feel my hands any longer. J and the family continued to meet me every couple of miles to give me water and urge me on. It was a long, difficult, and lonely run. I don't think I would've been able to bear it if they hadn't been there.

When I had 2.5 miles to go, one of the marathon vans stopped and a volunteer offered to keep me company for the last leg of the race. Although it doesn't show on the map, there is an absolutely evil hill right before the finish line. It prevents you from even seeing the finish line until you're almost on top of it, and when I saw it looming in front of me, I about cried. There was no way I could imagine myself running one more hill. She coached me every step of the way, telling me that "The finish line is there, even if you can't see it! Trust me, just a few more minutes and you will never have to do this again!" I can't even describe how wonderful it was to crest that hill and see J and the kids waiting for me. 

Yeah, I totally started to cry.

I was surprised to receive a finishers medal. To be honest, I was surprised that there was even a finishing line still set up! Back when I thought I would be running the PF Chang's race, I had hoped to have a finish time of about 4:30. But once I decided to run the {uphill both ways} Desert Classic course, all bets were off. By mile 13, I knew I'd be lucky to finish at all. In the end, my official time was 6:14:59. Not last, but pretty close. And you know what? I'm more than fine with that. 

We celebrated with a meal at IHOP, an ice water bath for me, and a day spent alternating between sleep and slow walking to loosen my stiff muscles. I'm not even going to think about whether I'll ever run another marathon for at least a month. I need time to forget how hard it was. Just like childbirth. :)

{Oh, and those cameras behind me? Those are for Dane Patterson, a contestant on The Biggest Loser. He was there with his wife, running the marathon, though J started calling him The Biggest Liar. He and his wife were several miles behind me throughout the entire race, but around mile 17 they got picked up by a van and driven to the end of the course, where they filmed the grand 'crossing the finish line' finale with all the family cheering. I'm hoping that they televise it as a half marathon, since I know he ran at least that far, which is truly a great accomplishment. It'd be a shame if he got coerced into being less than honest, poor guy, especially since he's LDS like us. We googled him and found his before photo, and he looks great right now. I hope he wins. :) }