I have been waiting for pictures from the marathon before writing this post however after viewing them and determining I look horrendous in all of them I decided to just post without the horrendously ugly pictures.
The marathon was good. A lot better than I thought it was going to be. I was very very nervous before the actual race. I had gotten sick during training and hadn't done as many long runs as I wanted. And the ones I did do were so painful that I was terrified about what it was going to feel like to run those extra miles. The weather on race day was pretty ideal. The day before it rained, hard, and although I was use to running in the rain it would have been a major bummer to have done the final event in wet
conditions. As soon as I got to the event I began to feel excited and not so scared. I love doing these things and it was great to be in that atmosphere again. The energy is always good and although I was cold, the sun was shining and I knew once I got under way all the anxiety would fade away. I started with Stinky, who quickly took off, and I didn't see him again until the finish. He had an amazing run, finishing in 3 hours and 2 minutes.
The first thirteen miles were the toughest for me. For some reason I convinced myself that if I could do at least the first half than I would be able to finish. My legs started to hurt after an hour. This is usually what happens when I do long runs but I was hopeful that after my tapering they would be newly energized and good to go for at least 2 hours. I waited for real pain to set in but for some reason it never did. I was very very careful to keep hydrated and only run as fast as I felt comfortable. At mile 13 I was at 1 hour 58 minutes and I was very pleased that I had exceeded to this point my time goal. This is however when I felt my body slow down considerably. I began to pay attention to my watch and every mile I got slower and slower. I made a conscious decision however not to speed up but to keep doing what I was doing cause I felt good and felt confident I could finish. I never really hit the infamous wall-the point when you want to give up and feel like literally you can't go on. The more miles I ran the stronger I felt. When I got to points of cheering fans I would speed up,
empowered by the people yelling at us to keep going. I think two things really helped me...one was my
gu packs. Disgusting stuff but it was a good way to keep an energy supply in my body. (well,
gu and the gummy bears I snacked on
throughout the run and the 15 chocolate oats I had on race day and the day prior to the race) My
IPOD was also a life saver. It really prevented me from thinking about how I was feeling and how much further I had to go. Every time my mind would wander to this subject I would turn up the music a little bit louder and pay attention to the beats, singing along in a not too audible fashion. Once I hit mile 2o I got a little emotional. Mile 20 I realized that I was going to finish and I felt really really proud of myself. I felt it was such an accomplishment. Mile 23 I saw a woman run up to her family there cheering her on and it made me miss my own family and all the support I would get riding in from the AIDS ride. I almost started crying but then remembered I wasn't in Dublin alone. After mile 25 I am not sure how it happened but before I knew it I was coming into the finish line. I somehow managed to see Martin's little head in the crowd and I couldn't help but smile. (there is a horrendously ugly-but smily-picture of me documenting this)Than I heard Stinky yelling at me and knew that they and my friend Pete were all there, cheering me in. And then I was done. I actually sprinted to the finish. (well, maybe sprint is too strong a word) It was great.
I felt pretty good
immediately after the race. My legs hurt of course but they have felt worse. I was lucky enough to have a shower right after and then off to the pub for post race
nourishment. (beer) This is when I quickly began to deteriorate and wished that I had either decided to stay in Dublin an extra night so I could have had a nap before heading out, or had booked an earlier flight back home. The pain was really something else. Stairs were the major obstacle and it really hurt even to walk. All in all it was a great experience and something I would do again. The rest of the trip was pretty good too although not very exciting. I had been to Dublin a couple of times before so I made Martin go to more obscure things like the great hall and I can't even remember what else. And because I couldn't drink we kind of missed out what else Dublin has to offer, which is a fun night life,
Guinness and interesting pubs. Dublin is definitely a place to go but I think Ireland has a lot more to offer than just this one city and should be looked at as one stop of many. I have to say though, I had some Mexican food in Dublin and it wasn't awful! One place even had real guacamole!
Now I am in post race blues, looking for my next challenge. I do think I will do another marathon but not if I have to train in the winter. It's cold out there! There is a bike trip I want to do in June to France. At the end you get to see the Tour
de France, although after this year I am not so certain I want to. No, never mind, I do. I am working right now in a reference library as a library assistant and although I am qualified for a more senior role I can't find one! I think once I have my renewed visa and the new year passes I will have more luck. I hope anyway. I actually like the job. The library is quite, the work is easy and it isn't stressful. I have tons of time off and although the pay is crap I am pretty content. It has only been a week though. I am sure next week I will feel different...
This weekend we visited a very beautiful place called Lulworth Cove. It is about what you would expect from a cove, semi-circle in shape with cliffs and sea shaping the scenery and a cheeky overpriced cafe near by where you can have a nice lunch while watching the light change on the water.
