"very happy and very sore"

-In the words of our very own Accidental Runner.

The day before the half, I was so antsy I gave myself tension headaches and a nearly sleepless night. Next thing I knew, it was 5:30 AM and with grim determination I managed to stick contacts into my eyes and force myself to eat half a Clif bar which tasted like four layers of sugary cardboard.

Mile 0: We walk to the starting line behind a guy dressed up as a keg. (Lori A's prescient comment: 'The sad thing is, the keg will probably finish before we do.') There's a lot of checking out of the other runners' gear: the people donning garbage bags, the banned i-pods, the leopard print leg warmers...

Mile 1: After some false starts and repeated playings of the "Rocky/Eye of the Tiger" intros, the horn is sounded and everyone is off! I realize I'm with the 7-8 minute milers and feel very, very slow. MUCH too soon, the annoying, but definitely UN-ignorable need for a Porta Potty (Potti?) hits.

Mile 2: We round a corner just in time to pass a row of peeing men at what will now be known as the Peeing Wall. Then! Porta Potty in sight! There's a freakin' long line! Lori runs on, I wait 5 minutes with a super tense group of runners who are obsessively checking their watches. Potty break over--what a wonderful world!

Mile 2-5: I run into a friend who's doing the full and say the stupidest things because it's 7 in the morning, and I am stupid at the time. I'm feeling great, since the 5 minutes waiting in line pushed me back to the 10 minute+ milers. People are shedding their hats, gloves, garbage bags and extra layers everywhere! Someone is blasting "Life is A Highway"...whoooweeee I'm flying!

Mile 6-7: BLECH, that Gatorade is nasty! Hmm...I really hope they use biodegradable cups, cause damn that's a lot of soggy paper cups. Feet are starting to hurt--it's only mile 6??!! Mile 7 SUCKS. Can't go on. Must walk. Can't walk. Have to be running when I finally see Jo, Tiff and Justin. Don't want to do this anymore. Can't do this. I see a runner whose shirt reads, "18 weeks ago, this seemed like a good idea." That's what I'm sayin' sistah!

Mile 8: Did I miss the sign? This is taking forever! How nice of these frat boys to wake up early on a Sunday and bang their pots and pans for us! Ack! There's an incline, a bridge (I know it's not that steep..but geeez...they said the course was FLAT and FAST!

Mile 9: FLAT MY a$#! Hills, hills mean death! Forget it! I hate this! Why?! Ooohh, at least the fall foliage is pretty! A volunteer passes me a Clif shot, strawberry. It's disgusting. Wash down with water. Gross. Blech. Who uses this stuff? Ok. Mile 9!!!! 4 more to go...crap! Look at how far ahead those people are, I'm never going to make it. I think of Dory in "Finding Nemo"...just keep swimming, just keep swimming...

Mile 10-12: Mile 10!!! Ok. I will ignore the pain! Mile 11!!!!!! The scenery is awesome! DOWNHILL!! Thank GOD FOR DOWNHILL stretches!!! Whoooooo flying again! There's a sign for free beer...silly people...almost there!!!

Mile 13: I can see the Art Museum! The tents! I don't care that I'm kinda running up a hill again! The museum (finish line) is the most glorious sight in the world! Curving, curving, where the heck is that finish line? I hear cheering for the marathon winner...rounding the bend, rounding the bend...and there Lori is waiting for me at the finish. A daze. I think I'm temporarily insane because I'm talking really loudly and laughing at everything. Medal. Mylar. Water, pretzels, banana.

Besides keeping fit and answering competitve drives, I think people must do marathons for the drama. It's all in there. Fear, loathing, heartbreak, hopefulness...disbelief and bliss.

Enormous thanks to WC for inspiring this. To Jo, Justin, Tiffany for being there, shuttling us back and forth, feeding us loads of carbs, waking up at 5 with the signs and love! And of course to DH for coming up on Saturday even though he had a 24h shift on Sunday.