It didn't rain at all and I didn't walk. I ran for the first time in two and a half months and I ran the whole course... except for the three times I stopped to wait in line for a porta-potty... and now and then I walked a few yards.
I didn't know I was going to run a marathon today until I did it. I didn't know I was even going to try running until I got to the start line ten minutes after the starting gun in the slow moving crowd.
It was nice to not feel the pressure of having a goal to achieve, I mean, other then finishing and walking away. There was no pressure to set a personal record because what chance I had got drunk and wobbled on its strappy heel hugging a drag queen those 11 weeks ago.
My musical timing was impeccable. The Pointer Sisters singing "I'm So Excited" at the foot of the St Johns Bridge, the worst hill on the relatively flat course. I passed every aching soul on that stretch.
On the up ramp to the Steel Bridge just a weary mile and a half from the finish line my spirit was flagging. I almost considered walking the rest of the way to the finish line. After all, I reasoned, I set out to walk in the first place so what is the shame in walking the last mile?
NEVER! I responded out loud. At that same moment Eye Of The Tiger (Survivor) cued up and with a little more wind I ran tall on my fastest mile yet, the last mile.
I finished the race in 5:00:59, one hour, fifteen minutes and fifty-nine seconds short of the time I set out training for back in January.
Oh well. At least I got myself another medal, and even after 26.2 miles can still dance a pretty decent jig on these tired legs.
As far as the ankle? Well, we'll see. It seems fine for now.
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