White Rock Marathon 2009

We're now going to stop inundating you with "baby stuff" and get back to other things, although it has been suggested that I need to start a "still:baby" blog. We'll see. Good ideas folks!

I've been putting off blogging about the marathon, because, well, there's really just no way to describe what it feels like to run for 26.2 miles. And, yes, I will correct you if you say that I ran 26 miles. I guarantee that I FELT those last .2 miles, and I will not forget them!

The day of the marathon was chilly and cold - perfect for running. Danny and I got to the American Airlines Center almost an hour before race time. I did not want to be late and preferred standing around shivering with my other DRC (Dallas Running Club) buddies.

The group I was starting the race with was towards the back of the pack, so we watched the elite runnings sprint across the starting line on the big screens as we waited for the crowd to start shifting forward.

I was nervous and excited to finish this race. Really I was just ready for a break from having to "train" every day and every Saturday morning.

The first ten miles felt great and seeing Mom & Dad at mile six was an adrenaline boost!

Around miles 11 or 12 my group left me behind because I started walking through water stops (just trying to say hydrated per doctor's orders). So, the headphones went in and the iPod came on, and if you're nice and promise not to laugh I might just hsare my playlist with you.

Miles 12-14 were probably the hardest of the entire race. I was already feeling tired (due to marathon or baby, I don't know) and the thought that I wasn't even halfway finished was more than discouraging. I even thought at one point, "I don't care about finishing. When I see Mom & Dad at mile 22 I'm just going to tell them to get the car. Running 22 miles is good enough accomplishmen for me."

At mile 16 I started feeling a little better. I was just chugging along at a steady pace, and I knew that in two or three miles I would see Matthew. He had heard about "the hills" you hit at miles 21-22 and wanted to encourage me through them. So, my brother, who twisted his ankle walking from his parked car to the race route, ran the last seven miles of the marathon with me on a sprained ankle (and I didn't know it the entire time). And, other than that moment when he told me about the first marathoner collapsing and dying after running 26.2 miles, I am beyond thankful that he was there to tell me, "Just a few more miles - YOU CAN DO IT!"

We saw Mom, Dad, Lynn and Danny (who finished his half marathon in a fabulous 1:55 hours and had time to get back to see me run) at mile 22 on Swiss Ave. I stopped to take pictures (yes, I was more about the "experience" than the time - sorry all you die-hard runners who just had a heart attack) with everyone.

Apparently I looked so exhausted that the moms started crying when I left, and Lynn even commented, "That's what she's going to look like in labor." Little did she know of the big announcement we were going to spring on them later that night. 

In all reality, labor was crossing my mind while running, and fear started coursing through me when I realized how exhausted I was running for five hours and just how much longer labor would probably be than that!

The last four miles felt like 12, and Matthew was patient to let me rest through the water stops. I was able to pick up the pace the last half mile and could hear my family calling my name as I crossed the finished line. Yes, they battled traffic and raced from mile 22 back to the American Airlines Center.

And so, on December 13, 2009, I simultaneously checked two big items off of my bucket list (Nos 15 & 21).

Will I do it again? Maybe. When enough time has passed that I've forgotten the pain of waking up the day after and feeling every single muscle and joint in my entire body, maybe I'll think about it.

**Tons of thanks to Mom, Dad and Lynn for taking pictures so we could remember the day and for coming out and cheering us on ALL MORNING!**