Every single one of my worst thoughts came true. But I blame my downfall on a bad case of insomnia. I didn’t sleep the night before the race. At all. I probably shouldn’t have even tried to run 26.2.
But I did. And I hit the wall early. And it got ugly.
A day later my feet are blistered. My legs are sunburned and sore. And I’m overall exhausted.
My finish time: 5:34:14.
That’s 14 minutes slower than California International Marathon. It’s enough to make me rethink my focus, my training and my attitude. My husband says I’m over thinking it. I probably am. But I want to get better. Not worse.
I was exhausted by mile eight. And I just couldn’t pull the magic back. There was not enough Gu in the world to save it.
I nearly quit at mile 19. But a really nice aid station volunteer persuaded me against it. So I pulled it together, got back out there and finished.
I have some bad splits. I was 12 minutes behind the entire way. But I made it.
My husband, who bought me the little bear above, was proud. I finished. And on some days, sometimes that’s what it’s really about.
A full race report to come later.
Am I disappointed? Yes. But I also ran 26.2 miles. And I pretty damn proud of that too.