Toe-Shoes Tina: Beast Mode

Miles since marathon:  35

Rest days since marathon:  1

And we can’t stop.  And we won’t stop.  We run things, things don't run we. Don't take nothing from nobody.  Yeah.  Yeah. 

No, I’m not about to go twerk on Robin Thicke.  (Not that there’s anything wrong with that, mind you.)  Nope, I – and I can’t believe I’m saying this – am feeling a little like Miley:  I can’t stop.  The marathon knocked something loose in my brain and I.  Just.  Can’t.  Stop.  A normal response to running 26.2 in 100 percent humidity would be to take it easy for awhile.  A perfectly acceptable response would be to never want to run again.  Or for at least a month.  I don’t know what went wrong with my wiring. 

I rested the day after the marathon.  Well, by “rested,” I mean traveled home.  I was back in the gym the following day (marathon +2 days).  “I’ll take it easy,” I thought, “I need to recover.”  And, truth be told, my first day back to kickboxing may not have been my hardest workout ever.  But things ramped up from there.  To the point I was racing Jackrabbit at our normal balls out pace two days later.  And I haven’t slowed down.  That Saturday (marathon +6 days), I ran 10 miles before taking Daughter #1 and Husband #1 to their 5K.  Then we went to the mountains.  I ran five miles at altitude on Sunday (marathon +7 days).  Then, Monday morning (marathon +8 days), I made my triumphant return to Vibrams.  Toe-Shoes Tina is back, y’all!  Again, I promised myself I’d start slow.  But I ended up clocking five 8:11 minute miles.  Hot damn!  I then did my normal kickboxing Tuesday through Friday (marathon +9-12 days), except it wasn’t normal.  I felt stronger and faster than I’ve ever felt.  Even while pulling tires across asphalt for sprints on Friday. 

This past Saturday (marathon +13 days), I had a 5K in the afternoon, but still went to my boot camp first (despite sore quads from the tires).  After a challenging circuit, the coach had us do less challenging stuff, like lie on our backs and punch the bags.  (90 percent of the class was running the 5K later.)  I sped home from boot camp to shower and change for a Bat Mitzvah.  I then attended the Bat Mitzvah across town and raced back to my side of town for the 5K, changing out of my dress and in to running clothes (including a bra change) in my car in the parking garage.  It was nearly 90 degrees by the time the race started at 2:00.  As we were lining up, I said the following “it’s so hot.  I’m just going to take it easy.  I’m not even going to use MapMyRun because I don’t want to stress about time.  I’m hoping for 9 minute miles.  I’ll be happy with anything under 30.”  Um . . . I PR’d.  With no timing mechanism, I thought I was starting easy.  Then I saw Jackrabbit (who usually smokes me) about 30 seconds ahead of me.  So I chased her.  I finished in 23:43 on a hot, hilly course (27th woman to finish out of 620).  Huh?   I was elated last year when I (barely) broke 26:00 on the same run!  7:38 pace.  I still danced at the after-party for an hour then rallied for date night with Husband #1.  Then I woke up and did a 90 minute (much harder) boot camp the next day. 

Monday (marathon +15 days) was Presidents Day.  My parents were visiting, so I left the girls at home with them and went for a 12 mile run.  I figured 12 miles would be easy-peasy after the really long runs I’ve been getting used to.  It turns out 12 miles is still a long way to run (and I barely broke a 10:00 pace).  But I did it with no pain and in relative comfort.   This morning I did another really hard kickboxing session, complete with suicides, tire pulls, and box jumps.  And you know what?  My muscles have that familiar dull ache, but I feel fantastic!  My joints are good.  My stamina is good.  And I don’t want to quit.  I’m on some crazy high.

Last week I e-mailed Dave Krupski, our ultra-marathoner badass friend.  I had to know if this prolonged endorphin rush was a “thing” or whether it just meant I didn’t run hard enough in NOLA.  He reassured me that it was a thing.  And, to paraphrase, it results from breaking through mental barriers and realizing what you are truly capable of doing.  I can just imagine Pinch Your Butt cringing at my lack of rest and predicting some colossal blow-up (IT band?  Hip flexors?  What will it be???).  But I’m not stopping.  I want to see what I can do next.  

Top Ten Things Slo Jo And Toe-Shoes Tina Learned On The Road To NOLA

Judging by internet headlines these days, everybody loves a good "Top Ten" (or twenty or seventeen or whatever) list.  Ever suckers for clickbait, Slow Jo and Toe-Shoes Tina have created their own Top Ten lists for your edification and amusement.  So, with no further delay:

Slo Jo's Top Ten:

1. Get some shoes that work. You want your toes to look pretty? Then get them with a big enough toe box. My running shoe size is a full size above my regular shoe size. Also, get them from a running store with employees who know what they are doing, not some teenager who is making minimum wage and texting his girlfriend that she looks adorbs.
2. You’re not going to run a marathon on a low-carb diet. Quinoa for breakfast? Sounds good to me.
3. Body Glide is your BFF. LOVE it. Can’t run without it. Also chomps. Also a dorky hydration belt. What happened to the advice that all you need is a pair of running shoes and you can run? Now I have all this gear. 
4. Running will make you discover muscles you never knew you had, usually when you get a pain in an area that has never, ever hurt before.
5. You can run for hours. I thought it would be a conditioning thing. It is all mental. It is not so much about physical toughness as the ability to endure hours of boredom with low-level discomfort.
6. You don’t need IT bands. It is acceptable to ask to have them removed.
7. People who don’t run are super judge-y about marathons and like to tell you why they are bad for you. Oh, it’s bad for the joints. Oh, your heart only has so many beats. I’ll tell you what’s bad for you. My fist in your face. (Just kidding. I’m not a puncher. That’s TST.)
8. You need running buddies, preferably chatty ones, so the running is less boring and the time passes. Also, it is good to have to meet someone, or sometimes the running doesn’t get done.
9. Beware ladies dancing with rakes. Not cads. The lawn implement.
10. Your friends and family who supported you through training and finishing a marathon are even better BFFs than Body Glide. And that is saying something. 

TST's Top Ten

1. Running is an individual sport, but I wouldn’t be able to do it without the love and support of family and friends.  
2. You don’t have to have washboard abs to run a 1:50 half marathon.  Conversely, just because you can run at a runner’s pace does not mean you will have a runner’s body.
3. My race photos are much more flattering if I run in sunglasses.
4. I am both stronger and faster than I ever dreamed.
5. There is no shame in crying or dry heaving.
6. Running gear might seem pricey, but it is worth every penny.
7. If you sweat enough, you will be medically justified in scoffing at the RDA for sodium.  Now pass the chips.  
8. Toes are overrated and wine is underrated.
9. Audiobooks make me look forward to long runs.  Also, Lee Child knows nothing about women.  *shrug*
10. Suffering is rewarding.

Slo Jo: MARATHON COMPLETED!

Distance: 26.2 Miles

Pace:  12:06 avg

Total time: 5:16:50

And here it is, finally: the race report! It's a long blog, but you should read to the end or skip to the end--because I want to thank you for your support getting me to the finish line. And that comes at the end!

We arrived in New Orleans on Friday afternoon and promptly tucked into some chargrilled oysters and drinks at the Royal House Oyster Bar. Dinner was at Cochon. 

I had a drink called The Swinekiller, then had some pork topped with pork cracklins. TST refused my kind offer to share my cracklins. She's not so big on swine.

We returned to the French Quarter for a drink at Lafitte's, where we met up with Channing and Reno. Channing lives in New Orleans--her name will be explained in a minute--and Reno, who lives in Reno, was visiting her. Both were planning to run the half on Sunday.  Somehow we ended up at Channing Tatum's bar, Saints and Sinners, which features a large portrait of...Channing Tatum. Channing Tatum in a fedora. I took a picture for your viewing pleasure.

(You're welcome.)

Saturday we spent shopping and not drinking. Let me tell you how easy it is to be in the Big Easy and not drink alcohol. Not easy! So many bars...we walked longingly passed Pat O'Briens and what seemed like a thousand other places to drink. 

(No drinks, but I did find this excellent real estate sign.)

But the deal was one glass of wine with dinner and that was IT. The marathon was the next day. Had to be hydrated.

After a delicious dinner at Sylvain, with shrimp and popcorn rice and these really wonderful almonds, we went back to the hotel. I carefully laid out all my stuff and pinned my race number to my running shirt. I had brought two shirts, and one was dirty! My marathon dreams were coming true. Anyway, I chose the clean one. TST looked at me carefully pinning on my number and said, "Oh, are you doing that already?" Yes. I also affixed my timing chip to my shoe so my other dream, where I had failed to put my number on and had no time, would not come true. We watched the weather--50% chance of rain--watched a Jimmy Fallon special, and went to bed at 9 .

We woke up the next morning after a troubled sleep--I'm pretty sure a marching band came down Royal Street during the night for some reason--and it was go time! I had a cup of coffee, a banana, and a Kind bar. I really wanted a second cup of coffee but I didn't want to have to pee ever again. It wasn't raining, but fog had rolled in. It was 100% humidity.

(View of the start line. You can sort of see how foggy it is.)

Made it to the corrals, where we separated. My corral was 15, so there was a lot of waiting. I was next to a guy with BO, and I spent the time waiting by wondering how his deodorant could possibly have already failed before the race. Maybe it was the humidity? I was warm, under my running jacket, and wondered if I should strip it off. But my iPhone was safe from the rain in its pocket. I ended up taking off the jacket and tying it around my waist, and putting the iPhone in an extra Ziploc bag I had shoved in my pocket.

We slowly, slowly approached the start. I got my watch ready for timing and started my music.

5K:  36:21. Avg pace: 11:42

Crossed the start line and started to run! My focus for each race at the start is not to go out too fast. I checked my watch constantly for my pace. It was very, very crowded on the course. Lots of runners. Lots of charity groups. And lots of clumps of walkers.

Race etiquette needs to be prominently posted on signs. Things like, hey walkers, get right. Don't stop abruptly. Don't stop to do a killer dance move right in front of an approaching runner (this happened and I collided with the killer dancer). Don't walk abreast in a group of four so everyone has to run around you. I ran about ten extra miles just weaving around people.

At mile 3, my watch said 36 minutes had elapsed. So that was fine, but I felt I could pick up the pace a little. 

10K: 1:11:18. Avg pace: 11:15

I increased my speed and relaxed into a comfortable pace for the next few miles. The fog settled in. The race people had put a giant inflated monkey over the course we ran through--couldn't even see it until we got close and it loomed out of the fog. We ran through the French Quarter through the eerie cloud. My skin was soaked, but the temperature was perfect.

The spectators got a lot more interesting in the French Quarter. There was a guy in a shiny purple cape standing still as a statue. Drunk people happily cheered us on. The Mississippi River was invisible to our right, and Jackson Square invisible to the left. 

10M: 1:54:09 Avg pace: 11:20

Things were still feeling pretty good. I couldn't wait until the half marathon people finished and the course cleared out. I was passing a lot of people, and that felt good. I was thinking, why don't you people pick it up a little bit? You only have three more miles! Of course, at mile 23, that reasoning got me nowhere.

But then when it finally happened, and the course split in two for the half marathoners and the fulls, it was a bit emotional for me. I was relieved that the course would be far less congested. But I was feeling so proud of myself that I was part of the smaller group doing the full! I happily trotted along in the left lane while the half marathoners took the right, feeling awesome.

Half Marathon:  1:28:43. Avg pace: 6:42

Some friends were following my pace by text, and apparently they got a text that I ran the half in 1:28. Sadly, no one believed it. 

Actual Half Marathon: 2:28:43. Avg pace: 11:10.

2:28 was fine with me for the half, and I still hoped to break five hours for the full. But then shit started to hurt.

I had pain in my foot where I was getting a blister on the heel of my foot. My knees hurt. My right hip ached. I took some Advil after trying to tough it out a while--I'd say to myself, you can have Advil if it still hurts in another half mile. Then I took it. Then I took some more.

The course took us through a gorgeous park where the giant trees hung massive limbs over the road, and then next to Lake Pontchartrain. We could only see about ten yards of it due to the fog, but it was nice to see it. And the course was an out and back, so we could see the fast runners coming back. Some of them have really crazy gaits. You wouldn't think they'd be so fast. They were all super skinny, too. They should try running with extra pounds, like I have to. Not as easy! 

Coach had warned me not to attempt any heroic speed efforts at Mile 16, where he said I would be feeling good if I had hung back in the first half. Apparently I had not hung back, because there was no risk of my attempting any feats of speed at Mile 16. None. I was getting tired, and I knew I was getting slower. I just tried to hang on to 12s.

Then the hills started.

We were promised a flat course! Flat! Apparently they say that because you gain and lose the elevation so you end up with a net elevation change of 12 feet. They didn't mention all the freaking hills and bridges. Or the headwinds. The bridges were a bear. I started off running them. In fact, TST saw me on her way back in (I missed her because I was trying to breathe), and said I looked strong. I would be walking those bridges later on.

I decided Mile 17 was my nemesis. It was another hill and just seemed to go up forever and ever.

Just after Mile 19, we got to turn around. This was another happy moment. We had turned the corner! I could see all the runners coming up behind me! They looked worse than I felt! I took some more Advil to celebrate.

20 Miles: 3:55:56  Avg pace: 12:39

These last six miles were so hard.

I started being unable to do things like close the zipper on my hydration belt after getting out my Chomps. I needed a ton of water every rest stop and drained the containers on my hydration belt. I would think, only six more miles! And then remember that was gonna take more than an hour. I was doing the Slo Jo plod. Every now and then I would remember to straighten my back, which helped. But it was painful and slow.

Around Mile 22, a woman appeared dressed in black holding a large rake. Other people were using rakes to rake up the empty cups runners toss near the garbage, but this lady was more creative--she was doing a Rake Dance. She waved the rake in the air and in a circle around her body, her hips moving in time with the rake. As I approached, she began raking the air in front of me as if she were drawing me toward her. She announced, "Martinis ahead!" and raked me toward her. As I passed, all the air left my body and I had an asthma attack.

Ever had an asthma attack? They are terrifying. My breath suddenly sounded like this: "HuuuuuuuuEEEEEEEEE ahhhhhhhhhhhh. HuuuuuuuuuuhEEEEEEEE ahhhhhh." 

Loud and wheezing and no air. Meanwhile, well meaning onlookers were trying to offer me a damn martini. "HuuuuuuuuhEEEEEEEEEEEEEE gaaaaaaaaaah," I said, waving them off.  I was too busy trying to stay calm and live at that point. 

I realized, through gasps, that the woman with the rake had not been waving me in.  She was RAKING OUT MY SOUL. 

I kept walking through it, not wanting to stop even though I was unable to breathe, because the marathon psychosis had me at that point. No stopping. No medical. I will be fine. And it did stop, and I immediately started plodding again.

Miles 22 and 23 were about moving, and when I looked at my watch later, these were my slowest miles. I must have looked pretty miserable, because I started getting a ton of encouragement. "Not far now!" said an older man walking his Golden Retriever. "You look strong! You are almost there!" lied the Leukemia Lymphoma coaches. (They were so great. I forgive your charity teams for walking in clusters.) "You got this!" said other kind spectators. It was helpful because I was not really believing in myself at this point. Walking seemed like such a wonderful thing. But I kept plodding because I thought, I am NEVER RUNNING A DAMN MARATHON AGAIN so I might as well try this time.

At Mile 24, I finally got a second wind and picked it up a little. At Mile 25, I told myself, you can get there under 5:15 if you try. At Mile 25.5, I decided I did not give a fig about beating 5:15 and finishing was good enough. I ran the last mile around the park and into the chute, fighting nausea and doing my best. I smiled for the camera and crossed the finish line.

I heard my name and saw that TST, Channing, and Reno were there cheering my finish. Reno told me she had a beer for me, which was amazing, but I had to work on not puking for a minute. I got a banana and some chocolate milk and water and got wrapped in a Mylar blanket so I wouldn't get chills once I started to cool down. Then I had the best sit down of my life.

FINISH: 5:16:50

Avg Pace for last leg: 13:03

Avg pace overall: 12:06

Texts started pouring in from friends and family as well as Facebook messages. I felt like you all were with me. Thanks so much for being on this journey with me. I can't believe I did it. But knowing you had all supported me along the way meant a great deal to me, and you helped when times were dark. You know, like when I had my IT band issue, or when I had my soul sucked out by the rake lady. And you were there cheering me to the finish. I appreciate it so much!! Special shout out to Coach, Flash, Pixie, E, F, K, CC, and of course TST, who got me off the couch in the first place. THANK YOU.

Much love, 

Slo Jo

Toe-Shoes Tina: We Are The Champions!

Distance:  26.2!!!!!!

Pace:  10:12 (I think)

Humidity:  100 percent.  Really.  Not hyperbole.

Purple toes:  1

Slo Jo and I are both now marathoners.  It is awesome.  Running the marathon was less awesome.  But the trip was very fun and very memorable.  I apologize in advance for the long blog post, but it’s been a long journey and it was a LONG run!

We arrived in New Orleans on Friday, January 31 – full of nervous energy.  We checked in at the Monteleone and immediately set out for charbroiled oysters.  So good.  Conscious about pre-marathon carb needs, we also ordered fries.  Then we went back to the hotel and had a drink at the famous Carousel Bar, where we sat next to a woman wearing the 2013 NOLA marathon shirt.  We struck up conversation and she informed us she is running the half, as she had several times prior, because she always ends up with a hangover in New Orleans, which precludes her from running the full.  She sounded wise.  She gave us advice on getting to the expo and wished us luck.  Later that night, we met up with my friend, Reno, who had signed up for the half.  Her friend, Channing, was with her.  Channing lives in New Orleans.  We were happy to bar hop with a local.  We stayed up much later than planned, not returning to the room until 10:30, whereupon we ordered pizza from room service.  I fell asleep before it came, managing to wake up long enough to shove a slice in my mouth.  Reno and Channing stayed out much later.  You get to have more fun when you’re running a half. 

Saturday was far more boring.  We hit the expo and went shopping.  We had 5:30 pm dinner reservations.  The restaurant was probably surprised when we showed up and were not 75 years old.  Dinner was yummy and we were back to the room very early.  We laid out all our running stuff, set our alarms, and watched a Jimmy Fallon highlight show.  Both our alarms went off at 5:30 am (we are nothing, if not type-A) and we jumped out of bed, both of us having had dreams about running all night.  I planned to eat a banana and have a small latte.  I walked to Starbucks at 5:40 am only to find that it did not open until 6:00.  Well, that was certainly inconvenient.  The race started at 7:00!  I sulked back to the hotel.  There were throngs of runners about the street as well as some drunk stragglers from the previous evening.  One of those drunk stragglers wobbled up to me, gold tooth gleaming in the moonlight, and exclaimed “hey girl, where you going with no socks on?” (I was in flip flops).   “Trying to find coffee,” I grumbled, “I have to run later.”  He looked confused and then a light bulb went on “oh yeah!  They have all the streets closed off up there for some marathon.  What’s your name?”  “Sandy,” I lied.  Sandy?  WTF?  The best I can come up with is the super storm that cancelled the New York marathon?  That can’t be a good omen.  He bid “Sandy” goodbye and I trotted back to the hotel, whereupon I applied all the necessary body glide and my race number and timing tag (or so I thought).  Then I went back to Starbucks at precisely 6:02, determined to get my latte.  15 people in front of me had the same idea.  I did not get back to the hotel until 6:20, where I had only a couple minutes to drink my latte.  I only got through half of it.  SJ informed me it was 100 percent humidity outside (no exaggeration) and we set off for the start line.  It was like walking through a cloud.

Slo Jo and I made our way through the crowd of runners, most of whom had no regard for what was going on around them and randomly stopped in the middle of foot traffic.  Again, I thought this did not bode well for the marathon.  I got to corral 12 and gave Slo Jo a quick good luck hug.  In my corral, I decided to put my race number on my shorts so it would be visible even if I was wearing my jacket, which I expected to do for much of the race to protect my phone from the drizzle.  I opted not to use MapMyRun for a few reasons:  (1) it is impossible to start it as I cross the start line if it is under my jacket, (2) I don’t want to get too stressed about pace, and (3) it burns my battery.  I had paid $5 so Husband #1 would get text updates on my progress.  I figured he could tell me my time if I couldn’t figure it out from the clocks throughout the course.  I (unlike some unpatriotic bloggers) stayed still for the national anthem and then watched two women clasp hands and pray for about 45 seconds, reminding me I was in the South.  Then I noticed the 4:30 pacers in the corral ahead of me, so I snuck up to corral 11 and formulated a race plan:  get in front of the 4:30 pacers and stay there.  We inched toward the start line and then it was go time.  I could not see the start clock when I crossed the start line, but no matter – Husband #1 was watching online.  I started “Eye of the Tiger” and zipped past the 4:30 pacers.

But running was hard.  It was crowded, the streets were pocked with potholes, and the humidity was brutal.  Clock time was 25:33 at the 1 mile marker and I was drenched in my own sweat.  I started tasting salt on my lips well before mile 2.  Although you’re not supposed to try anything new on race day, I knew I had to adjust my salt to account for my sweating, so I decided to take a salt pill every 6 miles instead of 8.  I also got water or Gatorade at every station instead of waiting for mile 6.  All of the first 13 were hard for me.  I developed a dull pounding headache by mile 4.  Each mile marker had a clock and I was running 9:40 to 9:50 each mile.  I was gaining valuable time on the 4:30 pacers, but it was hard.  I never hit my stride.  The first several miles were amateur hour and I was dodging oblivious runners/walkers left and right.  I didn’t want to slow down because I needed to bank time for bathroom breaks (the marathon having come at a very inconvenient time of the month), so I kept up the uncomfortable pace, which shouldn’t have been an uncomfortable pace in any event.  The marathon course was the same as the half marathon course for the first 13 miles.  So I got to see all the perky people in fun costumes who only had 13 miles to run (yeah, I said it).  I saw only two marathoners in costumes:  ladies dressed up in lingerie and dramatic makeup blaring the Christina Aguilera version of “Lady Marmalade” vacillating between jogging and stripper dance moves.  They were fun.  I passed them easily.  About mile 10, I began to resent all the half marathoners because they were about to finish.  Jerks. 

I took my first restroom break at mile 13.  It took me about 3 minutes, but reset me mentally.  I came out of the bathroom to a sparse course (the half marathoners having separated) and a drink station with plenty of Gatorade.   For the first time, my run felt good.   We turned in to some large city park for a long out-and-back (6.5 miles each way).  Right around mile 14-15 I began to see the course leaders coming the opposite way.  I whooped for the first couple guys I saw.  Then I saw the first place woman come chugging along with her bike escorts.  I cheered “you go girl!!!!” and I think I scared her.  I didn’t care; I was happy!  Soon, well . . . in 90 minutes . . . I’d be coming down that same home stretch.  Yay endorphins!!!!!  They ran out at mile 18.  I suddenly could not care less about pace and struggled to put one foot in front of the other in something resembling a running stride.  I took my second bathroom break.  It did not help and cost me another 3 minutes.  I came upon a series of bridges, each of which required an incline.  On a normal day, the incline would have been a gentle slope.  18 miles into the humidity-laden marathon, however, each one seemed like Everest.  I began walking up the inclines, but saw the 4:30 pacers rapidly approaching me.  They chased me for the rest of the race.   I’d run to gain some cushion between us so I could walk.  “Just run to the water station,” I’d plead with myself, “then you can afford to walk.”  I began to wonder why there aren’t 20 mile races – it’s a hard distance!  Why not 20?  Why can’t I be done now????  Around mile 22, I swore I would never run another marathon.  At mile 23, the guy in front of me veered off to the side and puked in the grass.  I looked the other way, held my breath, and ran by him.  At mile 24, I told myself (out loud, in fact) “2.2 miles.  2.2 miles is grit distance!  You have grit.  F***ing use it!”  People might have thought I was crazy. 

Finally, there was mile 25 and a drink station.  I’d gained enough space from the pacers that I could walk the whole damn station, even though I finished my drink long before the last trash can.  A very nice woman shuffled up behind me and said “you only have a mile left, come on, you can do it!”  I gave her an ironic smile (or maybe a grimace, I was beyond caring) and proceeded to leave her in the dust.  We turned into a central part of the park and I could hear the music.  I was at the finish!  Oh, no, wait.  No finish yet.  The course snaked up and back and up again then around a corner.  Surely the finish was around that corner.  No!  Still another 5 miles (okay, that’s what it felt like) through lazy turns.  Holy crap!  Could they antagonize me a little more with this finish line?????  But finally, the barricades loomed on either side of the walkway and the finish line appeared like a mirage.   Lord help me, I sprinted.  I didn’t know I had it in me, but I did.  When I saw the cameras, I threw up my arms in victory and sailed over the finish line.   I collected my medal and stopped.  Emotions started welling up.  I’d done it!  But before the tears of joy and exhaustion could emerge, I heard “Tina!  Tina!”  I turned to my right and saw Reno and Channing.  Reno was hanging over the barricade, waving a can of beer at me.  The most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.  I scooped up a water and a mylar blanket, then hightailed it out to the area where Reno was hanging.  I draped the mylar blanket on the ground and promptly collapsed, unsure whether I could get back up.  My legs burned and I exclaimed “that was the hardest thing I’ve ever done and I’ve given birth!  Twice!”  Reno, who has a few marathons under her belt, smiled sympathetically. 

(This is me frantically texting from the only position that felt comfortable after my run.)

I managed to roll into a position that didn’t feel terrible on my legs and I texted Husband #1 “what is my time?”  He replied that my tracking hadn’t worked.  I looked at my shoe and my heart sank.  I hadn’t attached the “sensing” part of the sensor.  If it wasn’t for Reno and Channing, I would have burst into tears right there.  But they were amazingly supportive.  Reno confirmed I crossed the finish at clock time 4:43.  I knew I hit 1 mile at 25 minutes, so my start time was somewhere between 15 and 16.  I finished a few minutes in front of the 4:30 pacers.  We estimated my time at 4:27 (even with about 6 minutes in bathroom breaks!) and I began to feel a little better.  I did it.  I had witnesses.  We waited for Slo Jo to finish.  She looked really strong and managed to ham it up for the cameras a little.  Then we commiserated for a bit and took the shuttle back to the hotel, where we took hot showers and ordered a bunch of fried food from room service.  I had chafing in areas in areas I’d never chafed before and the second toe on each foot felt spongy and strange.  I blame the humidity. The entire tip of the toe on my left foot was dark purple and in that instant I knew that I was going to lose a toenail, probably two.  But my broken toes felt great, so I guess it was not all bad. 

(My marathon journey has been the journey of ugly toes.  Totally worth it, though.)

SJ and I rallied after naps and watched the first half of the Super Bowl at a bar.   We then mosied over to our favorite oyster place and ate more chargrilled oysters for dinner.  They sat us upstairs.  Up a very long set of stairs.  Which we had to go back down after dinner.  We both complained loudly with each step.  I slept like a baby that night.  Then I woke up very early with a growling stomach on Monday.  Rather than waking SJ, I slipped out of the room and walked a couple blocks to a coffee shop, where I devoured 3 beignets and a latte.  Aaaaah.  Carbs!  We flew home later that day.  Sitting for 3+ hours on a plan was not pleasant, but bearable.  Two days after a hard workout always seems the worst on my muscles, but I have to say, today (Tuesday) I feel fine.  I went to my normal boxing class this morning.  My quads were a little sore and I fatigued a bit quicker than normal, but I was fine.  I even wore high heels to work for the first time in over a month.  Altogether I am stunned at how quickly I have recovered.  I have not taken Advil or iced any part of me, but I am hardly sore two days after.  No joint pain, minimal muscle discomfort.  So clearly the only conclusion is I didn’t run hard enough.  *sigh*  Next time.  Yes, I said next time.  It took me several tries to get comfortable with 13 miles.  I need to do more distance runs to get comfortable with 20+ miles.  So I definitely see more marathons in my future.  Hopefully 4:15 or faster! 

(PSA:  This shoe might look like it has a sensor on it, but it doesn't.)

In all seriousness, this has been an amazing process.  I would not have stayed so committed if it wasn’t for Slo Jo and her encouragement.  And the support of all of my family, friends, and blog readers has been invaluable.  Thank you so much for sharing this journey with me.