I’m still in disbelief that I really did it. I ran a marathon. Don’t get me wrong, every time I encounter a flight of stairs or get up from a chair, I’m rudely reminded of the fact that I ran for over 5 hours on Sunday. Minus that painful reminder, the whole race feels almost surreal, that really happened?
I want to remember every last detail of the day, and I’m happy I wrote my race recap shortly after the race because right now it all feels like a blur of running, weeping (did I mentioned I cried like 20 times during the race because I was in such awe of the fact that I was running a marathon??), eating pomegranate honey stinger chews and listening to Green Day very, very loudly.
Don’t hate me for saying this, but it really wasn’t that bad. As I’ve previously mentioned, I hyped up marathon training and actually running a marathon SO much in my head. In reality, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. The thing with distance running is you don’t process how ridiculous the task at hand is until you’re about 85% of the way through it. All runs start the same. Some just happen to last 5+ hours.
As I crossed the finish line I asked myself is this actually the hardest thing I’ve ever endured in my life?
I told everyone I would be a one and done kind of gal… then again that’s what I said about half marathons. Jokes on me, I’ve now run a handful of half marathons. Four days post marathon, I still have no interest in doing another. Not because of the pain and time commitment, like I said, those actually weren’t too bad, but more so because I don’t think I would get pleasure and enjoyment out of it. Why run a marathon if it’s not going to at least bring you some pride and joy?
Some of the fun of training for a marathon was telling everyone that I was training for a marathon. I enjoyed documenting it here, on my fitness blog. I enjoyed posting pictures of my long runs on instagram. I enjoyed bringing it up in conversation. I enjoyed that shock and horror that inevitably creeped up on people’s faces when I told them I was training for a marathon.
I ran the NYC Marathon at age 25 because I knew if I didn’t, it would gnaw away at me for years to come. Running a marathon was a “bucket list / 30 before 30” kind of item. Something to check off a list and say I did it, like skydiving (which I still really, really need to do). My theory was get it done now so I never have to do it again!
It happened. I ran a marathon. My legs are sore, but besides that I feel fine. Injury free and all my toenails are still intact.
Was it everything I dreamed of? I don’t know. I don’t know what I was expecting, fireworks? A life affirming moment? I had visualized crossing that finish line so many times in my head, how I was going to cry and scream and cheer as I crossed it. It would taste like victory. In the moment, it didn’t play out like that. It was a quiet and subdued moment. No one else was screaming and cheering. They all just seemed tired. I too was tired and drained from the long day but I still managed to muster up every last bit of energy to put my hands up and scream. Crossing the finish line of a half marathon feels like a fun celebration. At the marathon it felt like a sigh of relief, I did it and lived to tell the tale.
Writing the race recap was harder than I expected. The day was honestly so much fun, it did feel like one huge celebration and NYC was partying in honor of me. What I wasn’t ready to talk about was my unexplainable disappointment in running a marathon. Something about it didn’t live up to my unrealistic expectations. Crossing that finish line didn’t fulfill me as much as I thought it would. This also could just be plain old post race sadness seeping in, because I’m definitely experiencing that too.
I’m still digesting the whole experience, and I’m obviously still recovering both physically and mentally from the harsh beating my body took not only Sunday but over the past 17 weeks of training. I’m not saying all of this to encourage comments like “But you should be so proud you ran a marathon”. Just to tell people that it’s okay to run a marathon and not have it be some life changing experience.
Maybe I’ll have the urge to run another marathon someday, maybe I’ll find some other ridiculous high and goal to chase. For now, I’m smiling at the fact that I can now call myself a marathoner, but think I’m going to stick with workouts I truly love for the time being.
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