My First 26.2

This picture perfectly captures how it felt to finish my first marathon. Since a young age, I’ve loved to run, but the St. Jude Memphis Marathon in 2009 was my first actual registered race longer than a 5K. I was unprepared for how the accomplishment of my goal overwhelmed me. My training paid off and I experienced the course’s ups and downs. It wouldn’t be an enticing challenge if it weren’t difficult to do.

Miles 1-3: Adrenaline pumping like crazy, I eased through the first miles. Crowds on the sides of the road cheered so loudly and the energy was so positive, I think I even smiled as I ran. As a first timer, it’s hard to remember that it’s best to take those miles slowly. It was funny to watch runners throwing their jackets, scarves and gloves into the air while running down Beale Street so early in December.

Miles 4-9: During training, the first three miles usually challenge me the most, then I’m good to go. I ran miles four through nine with confidence and ease, with of a pace of about 8:50 according to my Nike sport band.

Miles 10-16: Around the tenth mile, I hit my first hurdle. The smell of disgusting McDonald’s had me nauseated within seconds. Ew. It was hard to breathe normally without wanting to vomit.

Miles 17- 23: At every mile, volunteers pass out water or Gatorade and runners gulp it down as they continue – most of them throw the paper cups aside. On the 17 mile aid station, there was water everywhere and I slipped on a sewage gate in the road and twisted my ankle. {Curse Word} My legs tight and ankle screaming, I made the decision to walk (not smart). Less then a mile later I realized if I didn’t start running again, my legs would tighten up too much for me to continue running. I couldn’t stand it anymore and out of sheer determination, resolved to suck it up and keep running to finish.

Miles 24-26: After my injury and slowing my pace, I managed to block out the pain. The last couple miles I felt numb and almost delirious with willpower. Then like I was dreaming I saw the sign that read Mile 26. Thank God.

At Mile 26 with only .2 miles left, I had one last incline into Autozone Park for the big finish. Really? Incline to finish? That’s just mean. Excited, relieved, happy, accomplished — all understatements. Running a marathon was so much more than I expected it to be. Even though I made some mistakes and my legs felt like stacks of bricks the rest of the day, I knew it wouldn’t be the last time I ran 26.2.