Holy Sh*t, I Ran a Marathon
It's been two weeks since I ran my first marathon. (Yes, I did say first, implying there may be more. Hey, I've already run 50.5 miles since the marathon, although that has been over 11 days.)
I still can't believe I actually did it. AND I did it pretty successfully. I finished in 4 hours, 16 minutes, and 34 seconds (4:16:34). So I didn't just finish, but I finished in a rather respectable time for a 47-year-old woman. (My age-graded time, which is a magical mathematical formula that takes age and sex into account, was 3:54:03). For a little comparison, the average time for the 7,485 people who finished the marathon was 4:24:07.
My goal was to finish in 4:15:00, so I was pretty close to achieving that. I started with a goal of beating Oprah's 1994 marathon time of 4:29:20 (for some reason that's a big standard in the amateur runner's world) but as my training progressed I was pretty sure I should be able to beat that. Turns out, beating Oprah's time was also the goal for P. Diddy when he ran the New York marathon in 1993 and finished in 4:14:52. So yeah, I ALMOST BEAT P. Diddy's time and he was 33!
But setting aside talk of finishing times aside, I wish I had the words to describe how running and completing the marathon felt. In many ways, it was quite undramatic, and this was a good thing. After he finished his marathon, P. Diddy reportedly said "I've never experienced mental or physical pain like that...but it was a beautiful experience." Huh. I can honestly say that I never experienced any significant pain, but just a little discomfort, during my marathon.
The Perils of P Diddy aside, I do feel a little guilty that I didn't have to suffer the way many of my fellow marathoners have. I know this is due to a combination of training and luck: things beyond my control that could have gone wrong, didn't. But I also did train my ass off, had a good plan for race day (nutrition, hydration, and all that boring stuff runners like to talk about) and I wasn't too overzealous in my race goal.
Don't get me wrong, the marathon was work, and I was tired when I was done and very happy that it was finished. But I can honestly say there was never a time when I was worried that I couldn't finish or I thought "I can't do this." My only real worry was that I wouldn't finish as quickly as I wanted to. I was even in good enough shape after the marathon that Chad and I were able to celebrate with friends later in the day, and I wasn't really that sore, just tired, during the next few days. My only real worry was that I wouldn't finish as quickly as I wanted to.
I did have a strategical mishap when I tried to restart my music playlist on my phone and ended up dropping my ID and credit card—TWICE—out of my running belt. I was (and still am) so mad at myself for that stupidity, so my self-recrimination was probably my biggest obstacle I faced during the marathon. But I did NOT have time for wallowing! I'm still trying to convince myself that the time I took to stop and retrieve my belongings actually was a good thing because it gave me a needed break that helped me in the long run (pun intended, I guess).
Hmmm, I STILL haven't really tried to tackle what running the marathon felt like. Mostly I just remember a blur of running...and running...and running. For me, the mental aspect of running and fighting boredom is the most challenging, so having all the supporters and fans to cheer us on was really, truly, amazing. Of course I had heard about how awesome the supporters are during the TC Marathon, and it was even better than I imagined. Not only was it so uplifting to have people cheering us on at almost every step, it was great people, and dog, watching, which definitely helped me fight boredom.
My favorite spectator signs were the ones that matched my two temporary forearm tattoos: "And though she be but little, she is fierce" and "Nevertheless, she persisted." When I saw those signs I "whooed" at the sign bearers and flashed them my forearms. They probably thought it was some weird running cult salute.
And then there were my amazing friends who came to cheer me on and make me feel extra special and loved. I'm happy to say that I think I saw, and cheered back at everyone that came to see me (I was worried that I would miss someone if I was in a daze). And yes, I did make an effort to look extra lively for my fans.
So back to the words of P. Diddy (which I didn't expect to ever find a need to come back to), I've established my marathon wasn't painful, but was it "beautiful"? My first response to that is "no," but after thinking about a bit, I think if I translate P. Diddy into Amy L., that does ring true. I wouldn't say "beautiful" but I would say "awesome." And having run the marathon makes me feel awesome, even two weeks later.
In fact, I think I'm just going to feel more and more awesome as the weeks go by. So no worries, there is no statute of limitations on getting to touch my medal.
I still can't believe I actually did it. AND I did it pretty successfully. I finished in 4 hours, 16 minutes, and 34 seconds (4:16:34). So I didn't just finish, but I finished in a rather respectable time for a 47-year-old woman. (My age-graded time, which is a magical mathematical formula that takes age and sex into account, was 3:54:03). For a little comparison, the average time for the 7,485 people who finished the marathon was 4:24:07.
My goal was to finish in 4:15:00, so I was pretty close to achieving that. I started with a goal of beating Oprah's 1994 marathon time of 4:29:20 (for some reason that's a big standard in the amateur runner's world) but as my training progressed I was pretty sure I should be able to beat that. Turns out, beating Oprah's time was also the goal for P. Diddy when he ran the New York marathon in 1993 and finished in 4:14:52. So yeah, I ALMOST BEAT P. Diddy's time and he was 33!
 |
| I think I'm going to beat Oprah! |
The Perils of P Diddy aside, I do feel a little guilty that I didn't have to suffer the way many of my fellow marathoners have. I know this is due to a combination of training and luck: things beyond my control that could have gone wrong, didn't. But I also did train my ass off, had a good plan for race day (nutrition, hydration, and all that boring stuff runners like to talk about) and I wasn't too overzealous in my race goal.
Don't get me wrong, the marathon was work, and I was tired when I was done and very happy that it was finished. But I can honestly say there was never a time when I was worried that I couldn't finish or I thought "I can't do this." My only real worry was that I wouldn't finish as quickly as I wanted to. I was even in good enough shape after the marathon that Chad and I were able to celebrate with friends later in the day, and I wasn't really that sore, just tired, during the next few days. My only real worry was that I wouldn't finish as quickly as I wanted to.
I did have a strategical mishap when I tried to restart my music playlist on my phone and ended up dropping my ID and credit card—TWICE—out of my running belt. I was (and still am) so mad at myself for that stupidity, so my self-recrimination was probably my biggest obstacle I faced during the marathon. But I did NOT have time for wallowing! I'm still trying to convince myself that the time I took to stop and retrieve my belongings actually was a good thing because it gave me a needed break that helped me in the long run (pun intended, I guess).
Hmmm, I STILL haven't really tried to tackle what running the marathon felt like. Mostly I just remember a blur of running...and running...and running. For me, the mental aspect of running and fighting boredom is the most challenging, so having all the supporters and fans to cheer us on was really, truly, amazing. Of course I had heard about how awesome the supporters are during the TC Marathon, and it was even better than I imagined. Not only was it so uplifting to have people cheering us on at almost every step, it was great people, and dog, watching, which definitely helped me fight boredom.
My favorite spectator signs were the ones that matched my two temporary forearm tattoos: "And though she be but little, she is fierce" and "Nevertheless, she persisted." When I saw those signs I "whooed" at the sign bearers and flashed them my forearms. They probably thought it was some weird running cult salute.
And then there were my amazing friends who came to cheer me on and make me feel extra special and loved. I'm happy to say that I think I saw, and cheered back at everyone that came to see me (I was worried that I would miss someone if I was in a daze). And yes, I did make an effort to look extra lively for my fans.
So back to the words of P. Diddy (which I didn't expect to ever find a need to come back to), I've established my marathon wasn't painful, but was it "beautiful"? My first response to that is "no," but after thinking about a bit, I think if I translate P. Diddy into Amy L., that does ring true. I wouldn't say "beautiful" but I would say "awesome." And having run the marathon makes me feel awesome, even two weeks later.
In fact, I think I'm just going to feel more and more awesome as the weeks go by. So no worries, there is no statute of limitations on getting to touch my medal.
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