Marathon details...............................................

In case you haven't heard, I finished, with a time of 6:21:45. I am still emotionally raw (and physically raw in a couple of places), and am not sure how much detail I will go into, but since you have all traveled the past six months with me I didn't want you to have to wait for too long.

I woke to the sound of my oldest (who did the full marathon) in the shower around 4:30 AM, and when she bounded out of the bathroom, the first words out of her mouth were, "It's fate, I woke up and the clock on the microwave said 4:20, then I came over to the bed and that clock said 4:20." 4:20 happen to be the time she had set to finish the marathon in.

It was just chilly enough for us to wake up as we walked to the start line a little over hour later, and just a little bit more windy than we had hoped. Not gonna let a little wind get in the way of enjoying this day, that was for sure.

FINALLY, the gun went off and I crossed the start line a few minutes later and did an easy jog to the first corner where I waited for a couple of minutes to pick up my youngest, the first member of my "Fab Four" relay team. We started with a nice easy pace, and I felt great, except for the fact that I am one of those people that are potty trained, for 7:15 every morning, which happen to be the start time of the race. Some things can't be rushed, so before we really got started we were having to stop.

The first couple of miles to the bridge I felt strong, and my running felt effortless. This continued over the bridge and I had a great time crossing the bridge, my youngest by my side, her only disappointment that she couldn't get the truckers to honk their horn at her.

Due to not understanding the way the transportation for the relay teams worked my youngest ended up having to run the first two legs of the relay instead of the first and last, essentially a half-marathon. She had not trained to run seven miles let alone a half, but she is a trouper and young so she did great.

I am not sure why everyone says the tunnel is cool to run through, I found it quite hot and stuffy, and about half way through it, my youngest started to get a little claustrophobic, and her feet were numb. I told her to imagine that the tunnel was a really long isle in the shoe store and at the end of the isle there was going to be a really great pair of high heels...With four inch high heels! She told me when we met up at the finish line that even though she knew better, she was a tiny bit disappointed that there was a pair of heels waiting at the relay stop for her. You better believe if she ever does this for me again there will be, no matter what I have to do to make sure of it!

I picked up (my) Mister and crossed the thirteen mile mark just a ways down the road. I was pretty amazed at how good I felt. Still having some bathroom issues, but that is what Depends are for. Right. It was getting warm by the time we hit the bridge up to Belle Isle, and about a quarter of the way up the bridge, (my) Mister decided to take off and head to the relay exchange on the other side of the bridge. I guess he was worried about changing the ankle chip or something, but it was a huge mental loss being alone and watching him leave me in his dust. This slowed me down some but I was still feeling physically pretty good. All the training and the pain related medical events of the past year really served me well in being able to tune out the aches and pains as I picked off the miles.

Picking up the third member of my Fab Four (my youngest's boyfriend) gave me a little lift at mile seventeen, and then there was eighteen. Heck, I can do this, so what if I am off my time because I slowed down, and then stopped at a potty to try and clean up a bit? I have plenty of time to finish.

After that potty stop I began to realize how tired I was getting and all I could think was "I REALLY need to see mile 19. My relay partner did a fabulous job of lying to me and telling me there it was, up ahead, and before I knew it, there it was. Then all I could focus on was "I love you dearly___, but I can't wait to see ____, because then I will only have 6 miles to go. Also at mile 19 was where I started counting backwards. "Seven miles to go, anyone can run seven miles. I have ran seven miles countless times." And on and on until I could see the final relay station just ahead. By this time I was definitely at the back of the pack and the trucks were coming along to remove the road blocks. Like the pain, I pushed this out of my mind and let my new partner talk me into picking up the pace through mile 20, and on towards mile 21. By this time I was feeling pretty sick to my stomach, and somewhere between mile 21 and 22 I started getting stomach cramps to the point that they doubled me over so I had no choice but to walk. No porta-potty to be found I finally gave in and just filled my pants. Then it took me about a quarter mile to figure out how to run with the load in my pants, but I finally managed to get a slow steady pace going, and mile 22 pasted, then somehow 23, 24, and there by 25 FINALLY a porta-potty, but I had adjusted and didn't want to stop because now I was under the gun to finish in the 6.5 time limit. Mile markers, 24, and 25 brought tears and statements, "They have to let me finish now. I made it this far, they can't take it away from me now."

My oldest called her partner (my final relay team member) at mile 23 to check on us. She had made her goal time with ten or so seconds to spar. When she called back just before mile 26 it was with more concern that I would not make the time limit. ____ was wonderful at reassuring both of us I would make it in plenty of time.

From reading past accounts of my races you all know I am a talker. This left me somewhere around mile 23 and from that time I was pretty much inside my head talking to myself, muttering a thank you to the police officers that were controlling traffic for us. So now I know the limits I must go to to shut myself up.

And let me take a minute here to applaud the great job they did. The entire course of well marked, and well staffed for both fluids and safety. And every single one of them cheered for us as we passed. Think about that, six hours of sitting around, much of it in the sun (with the officers in full uniform), having cheered for thousands of people, and still showing us a good time when I am sure all they wanted to do was pack up and go home. I think that might be my favorite memory of the entire race.

My youngest and her boyfriend joined us just before mile 26 and she ran with me talking me through the last little distance. "See Mommy, there it is. The finish line. Honestly the only thought I could muster was, "They can't kick me out now." Having the time limit took the joy out of race for me (ya, I know if I ran faster it wouldn't be an issue, and I am not blaming the race. I just learned that a time limit race is not for me. I don't like the pressure).

I had joked to my oldest that I expected her to have a microphone and be singing We Are Family when I crossed the finish line, and she actually did it. She said, "Happy birthday Mom, and then sang a line of the song. Then she gave the microphone back to the "real" announcer and he repeated the sentiment as I actually crossed the finish line. I was feeling too sick at that point to feel anything except relief that I could stop.

I made my way to the porta-potty and got my clothes off, but had to call my youngest to put my pants back on because I couldn't bend over. Talk about love.

I made the walk back to the hotel before the vomiting started, and I am pretty proud of that. And now, my youngest has to give me that honor of having ran hard enough to throw up. So there.

As if I hadn't suffered enough, when I undressed to shower I found three bloody spots on my back from my bra and HR monitor rubbing, and of course my entire bottom was raw. I didn't feel any pain in my legs compared to the pain in my butt, so I do have that to cling to.

Made it home and I was still an emotional mess. Heck, I am still an emotional mess, and I have been crying the entire time I have been typing this up.

As tired as I was, even with some left-over pain medication from my surgery I was not able to stay asleep for more than an hour at a time last night. I think every time I moved in my sleep the movement cause my butt to hurt and this woke me up. When I WAS asleep, I was dreaming of running the marathon over and over and over. All in all, a pretty horrible night. I am doing better today but I still have 1/4 inch high welts on my butt from the experience. OUCH! I have figured out a way to avoid this in the future with Vaseline and layering, so it was a learning experience, abet a painful one.

When I couldn't sleep, I picked up a book to read, and it was a book about running marathons (stories of one woman's runs). At the start of a chapter she had quotes and this one from Frank Shorter hit the mark for me:

You have to forget your last marathon before you try another. Your mind can't know what's coming.

While I am fairly certain there will be another one in my future, don't you dare ask me when it will be! I still have lots of processing to do on this one.

P.S.
Imagine my shock at reading the official time this morning and finding out that I was third from last in my age division! I was sure I was dead last in the entire race not just in my division, but as long as they didn't kick me out I didn't care one little bit at the time. I still don't.