26.2 (encore)

It is still a little hard to wrap my mind around doing what I did. 26.2 is a big deal, and I did it. Every step of it.  At mile 3 I thought I noticed my right knee bothering me. Not hurting, but I was aware of it. I dismissed it thinking my knee strap was too tight. Not so. By mile 6 I was hurtin' bad. I.T.band was on fire. Worse than I ever remember.  Never in my longer runs or the 1/2 marathon I did in July, was it that bad.  20 miles left...how the heck am I supposed to finish this? When I ran a 10 mile trail race back in NY I had the same problem at mile 6 and I was barely able to finish, but 20? I started to do some serious praying with every step I took. Pleading with Heavenly Father to give me the strength to finish, to take away the pain so I could finish. I had to finish this.  The pain wasn't going away so I started to doubt the faith I had.  It obviously wasn't enough if I was still in so much pain.  My mind was taken back to my "list."  {Sara had told me of a book she read about marathoners.  One woman made a list of 26 people and dedicated each mile to that person.  I loved that idea so I did it.  I actually finished the list the night before I ran.}  I took out my list, which I had forgotten about, and looked over the first 6 names.  Instantly I forgot about my knee and became overwhelmed with emotion over the memories and feeling I had for those people.  I started to become anxious for every mile marker.  Not just because it was one mile closer to the end, or more icy-hot for my legs, but so that I could get to the next name on my list.  Every name I read, I cried.  Appreciation and love was all I could feel out there.  I was running alone and most all other "loners" were running with ipods.  It was just me and my thoughts for 4:31:37.   At mile 16 I randomly got a text from a friend who happen to by my #16.  I started to cry.  Heavenly Father was obviously aware of me and what I needed.  Thank you for the text!  Mile 18 was Sara.  I texted her, knowing I was in her thoughts and wanting her to know she was in mine. The next 7 miles were nothing short of brutal! Painful! Everything started to hurt.  Quads were burning.  Calves were starting to cramp.  Back and arms were tired.  My knee, well, it hurt so bad it was numb.  Aid stations were at every odd mile.  I would stop and take a sip of gatorade, sip of water, take a slice of orange, and have them smear icy-hot over both legs.  The problem with stopping...it was becoming increasingly more difficult to get my legs going again.  My knee would stiffen up instantly.  I seriously felt like the Tin Man from Wizard of Oz.  The last 4 miles coming into town were almost entirely downhill, and thank goodness.  I just leaned forward and let gravity do the work.  For as much pain as I was in, I was still pushing out 9-9 1/2 minute miles.  Not too bad! Once I got to mile 21 it was my family.  Simon, Marshall, Max, Jeff and Josephine.  The last 2 were the longest miles of my life.  We were in town and running on the roads.  People lined the sidewalks, cheering for everyone who ran by.  What a difference it made running amid civilization.  I had to soak up all that energy to get my legs to keep moving.  Sara had reminded me the night before, to make sure I ran a mile for myself, so I put me at 26.  At first I thought it to be selfish, but at that moment that I hit 26, it was anything but.  I recognized all the other people that helped me get there...but it was me who did it.  Running in and seeing my family there was the best!  Cheering me on, shouting my name, gave me what I needed to finish.  Then I hear another friend from the sidelines yelling "Go, Rachelle!  You did it!"  Now I can see the finish line.  And just before I cross, there is Sara in the bleachers cheering me on. Standing on her feet with both arms in the air, jumping up and down!  She was with me at the beginning when I signed up, and there she was at the finish line with me.  Thanks Sara.  I crossed the big red line, walked under some misters, passed through a line where they gave me my "medal" and headed for recovery.  There I ate 2 bomb-pop popcicles and waited for Jeff to pull the car around.  A friend told me to be prepared to cry when you finish, that it is the only emotion you can show.  Surprisingly, I didn't cry, probably because I did all my crying out on the course.  Now that it is over and I sit here in a quiet room recounting what happened, I am crying like a baby.  Like I said at the beginning, it is still a little hard to wrap my mind around doing what I did. 26.2 is a big deal, and I did it.  And I owe it to so many of you who loved and ran and supported me along the way.  Will I do it again, I don't want to think about it.  I just want to enjoy that I did it and that it's over!