Proof (I really did it! 26.2 miles!)

Isn't it great that the race officials were willing to provide 'proof' that I really did run the St. George marathon? Yeah, I thought it was pretty generous myself. :) haha.
On a more serious note, training for and running a marathon changed me forever. There were so many things that threatened to keep this experience out of my life. First, I tore my plantar fascia (it's the ligament that supports the arch of your foot). When that was nearly healed I started running again and then got a stress fracture. I was very determined though & kept thinking positive thoughts! About 5 days before the marathon I gave up & resigned to try again another time. I had run for the first time in 5 weeks and there was still pain, I just couldn't see how a marathon would work out for me. But, that was not what was meant to be. I could not shake the feeling that I had to at least try! I knew I would always wonder. So, at 3:30 a.m. on Saturday Oct. 2nd I awoke, got my gear on and took the bus to the starting line with my dad and sister. I started running and felt pretty good. I kept running and running. At some points I had to take a walking break, but, I kept pushing through the pain, exhaustion and heat. I knew I needed to cross the finish line.

With every homemade sign I passed (there were 100s of them) I pictured my family holding them and their smiling faces cheering for me. (My favorite sign said: running takes balls. Other sports just play with them! LOL) I reminded myself often to smile and enjoy the view. I kept my Russian children in mind and imagined myself telling them in the future that mommy ran for them. I made friends along the route and had great conversations. I imagined over and over what it would be like to cross the finish line. If a thought didn't fit in one of these categories, I didn't let it linger. I was giving it my best and knew that would be good enough.
I didn't beat any time records but I did cross that finish line & my family was there to yell, clap, and cheer to get me through the last few yards. I literally had nothing left in the tank. There were lots of sore muscles in the coming days but mainly a feeling of gratitude. I did something hard and overcame some serious obstacles to be a part of it. In the end, that made the finish line even more sweet.

p.s. I can't write this post without thanking my sister for giving me the inspiration to make this goal in the first place & for all the pep-talks along the way & also my dad for all the early morning runs we shared together. I couldn't have done it without them!