Marathon; Complete

I did it. I ran a marathon (Ok, you say 5K, I say shut up and give this one to me). And it was actually…amazing.

The training didn’t exactly go as planned. We had rounds of sickness hit my whole team’s households, so we trained a total of three times. It wasn’t much. We threw around the idea of trying to run in the few days preceding but decided it was more productive to go get burgers and french fries instead.

I had to get up at 4:30am on race day. It was rough. The wine that I had imagined would placate me into an early bedtime the night before, in reality just made me even more sluggish in the morning. I think I brushed my teeth and I definitely double checked I was wearing underwear.

My friend Balicia and I were carpooling, so she showed up at my house dressed and ready to go…sort of. She looked snazzy until I noticed she was wearing socks and Teva sandals.

“Uh, I’m not sure they allow open-toed shoes in the race…” I told her. “I’m pretty sure that’s a no-no.” She sighed, complained, and finally admitted that she had sneakers in her car, but they were packed away and she didn’t really want to find them.

It was kind of hypocritical of me, seeing as how I couldn’t currently find my own shoes and was wandering around the house in the dark barefoot, but I made her go find her own.

Once we were in the car, we decided that Starbucks was a must. I’ve heard some athletes don’t drink coffee before their runs but I’m a caffeine-addict and no one would dare refer to me as an athlete, so we were good. We also realized that neither of us had eaten.

“We should get bananas,” Balicia suggested. “I’m pretty sure people who run eat a lot of bananas.” Luckily for us, you shall ask and Starbucks doth provide.

The marathon was located in downtown San Diego. I had no idea of the details, because I stopped reading the emails. So I was pleasantly surprised to find out that the entire race was held on the streets that I have come to love.

We parked in the darkness of night and made our way to the epicenter, where thousands of people clad in workout gear were gathered. Balicia and I, kindly referred to as Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb by the rest of our group, wandered around trying to find extra pins for our racing bibs and some scissors to open my headphones. We got distracted and joined a hip-hop stretching group. We never found the pins, so both of our bibs were half-hazardly hung on the front of our shirts.

We stood, corralled next to a man wearing a tutu and carrying a plate of cupcakes, waiting for our turn to start.

Our group quickly spread apart once the race began. Our varying speeds led us to split up, which forced me to make friends during the race. I tried joining some 13-year-old girls, which was interesting for a bit. They gossiped about their friends, which motivated me to keep pace. I had to know, did Janelle end up getting in the car with Jason? Was Rob’s mom going to let him go to the party?

After their teenage angsty energy eventually led them to pass me, I found comfort in a mother and child. She kept yelling motivation to her young son which I pretended was aimed at me. She said, “You can do it! You’re doing great! Just a little bit further! I’m so proud of you!”

I ran past City College, where I attended my first college class. I jogged down a street I have never had the chance to step foot on for fear of being hit by cabs and student drivers, and watched the sun come up over my favorite city. It was breathtaking (which was only compounded by my lack of training and utter exhaustion).

There were people cheering us on the entire time, mostly the homeless population of downtown. They rose from their cardboard boxes and clapped as we passed. One man even peed on the street as we passed, which I’m sure was his way of saying, “May you run as fast and as strong as my urine!”

Crossing the finish line was an amazing feeling. Music was blasting and the crowd was clapping and shouting. I felt like I was going to puke, but I stumbled across over that mark with my last bit of strength. I found my peeps and we stood in silence, dripping with sweat and smelling like a High School locker room. But we were happy. We were accomplished. We were runners!

I came home to crayon drawn banners, made by my husband and children. And those handwritten signs were the greatest reward by far. Balicia was with me but she missed them at first, due to the fact she pushed past my family to empty her bladder. It’s ok though; when you’re good enough friends it is alright to shove people when you gotta pee that badly.

I can’t walk. My legs won’t bend and every part of my body is sore. But running a marathon was on my bucket list. Check, bitches.