Yesterday was the big day. I avoided the flu, drove like an old woman to avoid further car accidents, and made my way to Houston
I was nervous from the time I woke up Saturday until the time I woke up Sunday and went out into the cold to wait for our Uber. Richard kept telling me it would be fine but I wasn’t sure. We went to our corrals and proceeded to start our marathons – his 5th and my first.
It was hard. Harder than anything I’ve ever done. There were so many times I just wanted to give up but I couldn’t. Not after everything that happened.
This marathon was a year and a half in the making. I was. Not. Giving. Up. I kept running. Richard started a campaign of harassment/support that got me through the last miles.
I was 9 minutes over. The finish line was being taken down. Rather than letting me and the others suffer for nothing, they led us down a little path lined with pinwheels that was actually really cool, and into the convention center where I was given my medal, shirt, finisher mug, and food. I staggered outside into the sun and dropped onto the fountain to wait for Richard.
Friends, when I saw him I started crying. Without his support and encouragement I don’t know that I would have even signed up for the damn thing if he hadn’t told me he knew I could.
So now I’m officially a marathoner. I’m taking the next week or two off before the Cowtown and then the Pearland half with Richard and Charlotte. Richard also wants to do the Skyline half in April because we are crazy people. I’ll never forget my first marathon, though.