That said, I finished my first marathon last weekend here in Portland. I've always wanted to do that...way back from when I was a skinny cross country kid in high school. Well, by 35, mission accomplished. What a trip that was. The training, the avoiding injury in the lead up, the mental preparation...all of it. And to top it off, the virgin marathon experience. No precedents, no preconceived notions, just me, my shoes, my GU, and my determination not to die out there.
It was a beautiful day in Portland (speaking as a Portlander), low 50's, overcast, no rain, little wind, great day to run. 9000 people on the course or so abouts. I got to the start later than I would have liked, and found myself stuck way back in the mob. Behind the 4:15 pace group. I was shooting to hit 3:45, so I knew I was going to be swimming upstream for the whole day.
Bang.
Run, run, run, run, run some more. Weird things happen when you run this long. I've described it as going into a narrower and narrower tunnel. Until it is so narrow, you are simply staring at the pinhole right in front of you and trying to figure out how you are going to get through it to go find a beer, a burrito and a bed. Total concentration and meditation. I see why people get addicted to such a seemingly painful experience.
Anyway, I beat my goal. Crossed the line in 3:40:10, and then thanked my lucky stars that Lori made it downtown with the girls to get me. After 10 minutes cooling down, I started walking pretty funny.
Not sure the girls understood what I was doing (or why I was so stinky, and unable to pick them up), but I was totally ecstatic to have all my ladies with me at the finish.
72 hours later, I am almost free of the pain. And almost ready to run again. To where or to what? I'll have to figure that out. Fun day I'll always remember.
1 comment:
Congrats man, that is HUGE!
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