And SCENE!

The low point came at Mile 12, when I felt bad in a way that I’ve never felt bad before, which scared the living daylights out of me.  But I took a walk break and the feeling passed – and along with it went all the feelings of anxiety and pressure that naturally crop up when it’s finally that one day you’ve spent the past six months of your life working up to.

There I was, twelve miles down and fourteen-plus yet to go; clearly not in a position to run a better time than last year (what with walking that early in the game); but with no limits, restrictions, or obligations either.  All I had to do, the only thing I had to get done the entire rest of the day, was get through those fourteen miles.  That’s it.  And I asked myself if I was going to do it, or if I was going to fucking do it.

Thus began the most fun fourteen miles I’ve ever run in my life.  

I wound up besting my previous time in spite of myself, and went the whole 26.2 without any real pain (unquestionably a first for me).  And I was smiling at the end.  So my second marathon this past Saturday was successful by every standard I had set for myself and then some.  I’m so happy that I did it – that I gave myself the opportunity to do it.

And now I’m likewise happy that it’s OVER.

It’s been my line all week that it’s a good test of my self-discipline to train for one marathon a year, and an equally good test of my sanity to be able to take a step back when it’s over.

A lot of energy went into training for this.  It’s time for me to rechannel some of that toward other things for a while.  No more forty-mile weeks for me…

…or at least not until this time next year… :)

Mile 7, courtesy of Breakaway Running.  This is the only shot of me from last Saturday to show up so far; I know there are many others out there, but I can't imagine any will capture the day better than this.