"The Marathon" This is a course map of the Honolulu Marathon. It's beautiful along the water most of the way.

To everyone that wasn't already aware, yes, it's true I am oficially a crazy person. On Sunday I ran the Honolulu Marathon. Yes . . . all 26.2 miles of it. And those of you who know me well know that I was entirely unprepared to say the least.
I have a few reasons why I wanted to run a marathon; #1. is seemingly the most rediculous now that I have actually completed a marathon . . . "I thought it would be fun." (yes, I've already admitted that I am crazy) So on to #2, I DON"T run. I have always felt like I just am just not built to run. Like I'm too tall, but with legs that are much to short for my frame. I have felt as if I am lugging a wheelbarrow behind me when I run. So you may ask why? Why would someone who hates to run decide to do a marathon? The harder I think about this the more I am giggling at my own warped logic and thought processes that led me to sign up. Let me try to explain; yes, I hated to run, but it was something I needed to get over. It was one huge mental block that kept me from doing things that would be good for me. It's something I've realized in the last few years of my life, if I face, and overcome things that I am afraid of, I enjoy life more fully and have experiences I never would've had, and wouldn't trade for the world. #3. I have caught the triathalon bug, and while I am comfortable swimming and biking, running was my Achilles heel in my mind. I felt that if I pushed myself to do a marathon, thenI would overcome the feeling I have that "I just can't do this", and it would be replaced with more confidence to attempt races I would've been too paralyzed with fear to do.
So those are some of my biggest reasons why, but truly it always came down to "I thought it would be fun." Silly me.
So my friends that I went with and I got a wake up call for 2:30 a.m. Sunday morning. And we did have to reconfirm twice, that yes we really do mean a.m. We actually slept relatively well, and got about 4.5 hours of sleep. We woke up and ate Power Bars, then when we were decked out in our Marathon gear went down to our hotels 24 hour resturant and ordered bagels. At this point I wasn't that nervous only because I had no idea what I was in for. We filled our pockets with this amazing stuff called Gu. Sounds appetizing I know but it's acually gel-calories that keep you going and are easy to eat when you're running. We took a few pictures and then went to the lobby of the hotel to walk the two blocks where we would catch the 3:45 . . . yes a.m. shuttle to the starting line. It was pouring rain, so we acutally ended up sprinting to the bus stop, where we were forced to wait in the rain, but it got us warmed up and ready. We got on the bus and you could literally feel the anticipation building the closer we got to the Ala Moana start line. Imagine almost 30,000 people lined up to pass through a starting line that is the equivalent to three traffic lanes wide. Then as the 5 a.m. start time got closer the noise in the crowd noise rose almost to a yell, and then at 4:55 the fireworks started. It was so surreal to be there in the dark hours of the morning with 30,000 other people who are all about to run 26.2 miles, and the fireworks exploding and reflecting off the water (we were right on the beach), I will never forget it. Then the cannon went off and we started to move. My dear friend Catherine that I did the marathon with looked at me just as we started to jog and said "I guess we're doing this." I guess we were.
Amazingly the first 11 miles were awesome. My friend and I ran together and we were pumped. It was however pouring rain on and off, so by mile 2 I just stopped trying to avoid the puddles because my feet were officially soaked through. At about mile 6 we decided to put on our iPods, which was perfect because we'd already established a pace that was fast enough that we were making good time, but slow enough that we weren't breathing hard enough not to carry on a conversation. I swear, my new iPod (that was a Christmas present from my Dad specifically for the marathon, thanks Dad!) knew what I was thinking. Just as we started to climb the steepest hill of the course, the Gnarls Barkley song "Crazy" came on and I couldn't have said it better myself. It was exactly what I needed and I was feeling great. The whole way up the hill I was high-fiving the volunteers and just having a ball. Miles 9, 10, 11 were fun. Mile 12 is where I started to feel my legs & 13 was good because just as I was starting to get tired I knew that I was halfway! I was really amazed when I saw the big "HALF" sign, and that's when I started to venture and think "I may actually be able to do this!" Good plan Jess. Shortly after I began to feel my feet. The had started to swell from being wet and trapped in shoes, which you all know I never wear anything but slippers (flip-flops to you mainlanders). At 16 the pain in my feet set in with such a vengance that I hit a mental brick wall. That's when I had to walk, and the better part of mile 16 was spent in quiet terror of me wondering how I would make it back. At 17 I started to push through the pain in the feet, and began to convince myself that I could make it because the milage that I now needed to cover to finish was in the single digits. It was the silliest things that kept me going throughout the race.
It was amazing how many emotions I went through in the space of 26.2 miles. I went from crying when I passed a lone woman spectator with a sign that said simply "You Are Amazing", it touched me so deeply then and I don't know why. I also ran angry a lot of the time, really angry. I have never been a violent person and I've never punched anyone besides my brother and sister when we were little (sorry you two) but at mile 24 one of the volunteers yelled out "you're almost there" and I wanted to punch her. I am being brutally honest and I hate to admit that but I did not feel like 2.6 more miles was "almost there." Every step by this point was agony and I really thought I was going crazy when I found it actually hurt less to run than it did to walk. At that point, where you are sure you cannot take one more step, you don't want to be told that you are almost there, when obviously you are not. Tell me I am almost there when I am close enough to the finish line that I can fall on my face and at least one part of my body will land on the other side of it. That is when I am "almost there." It was funny because I sheepishly admitted this feeling to my friends later that night when we were talking about our experiences and my admission was met with laughter becuase at one point or another we had all experienced this misplaced anger at a unsuspecting volunteer. Of course even though I felt like telling her I was in fact not almost there, I only had the energy to smile and a little wave.
I rounded a corner and found myself looking at a sign that said 1k left to go, and I was utterly confused and too tired to care or try to figure out how impossibly far 1k was, when I saw it. Looming in the distance . . . the finish line. The last "1k" was a blur and I think the only thing that got me through running that last bit was the knowledge and the promise that I could actually see the point at which I could take my shoes off. Funny how after 26.1 miles it was no longer about finishing a marathon.
The feeling of elation and joy didn't set in until later that day. I was truly amazed by the kindness and generosity of the volunteers & spectators that day, it made me feel connected to strangers in a way that I wish we could feel more often as humans. I'll never forget as I was wandering through Waikiki disoriented and in so much pain, with the blood trails still visible down the backs of both shoes and socks that an old woman waiting at a bus stop approached me and said "Dear are you alright?" I told her I was just looking for my hotel and she pointed me in the right direction. She put her hand on my arm and escorted me the block before she said. "Now darling how long was your race?" When I told her it was 26 miles (I left off the .2 even though those .2 were significant enought that I thought I may not make it), the look on her face was priceless. She just patted my arm and said "You're amazing." And then all of a sudden I was at my hotel. I said thank you to my after-race angel and met up with my friends.
What I realized is that marathons are a metaphor for life. Even for those who think they are preapared, the going will always get tough. It is a testament to the human spirit that when you are in so much pain, and your body is telling you that you absolutely cannot, will not take one more step, from somewhere inside yourself you find the strength, and you keep moving. One step after painful step, but at the end you know instantly . . . it was all worth it.
Will I do another marathon? . . . absolutely.
After it all, my number one reason for siging up for a marathon turned out to be right. It was fun!
If you want to see some of the professional photos go to marathonfoto.com (Honolulu Marathon 2007, just enter my last name and bib #11239). When I get my pictures developed I'll blog again, but no more novels I promise, just pictures. If you've made it this far into reading my account of a marathon, you have the heart to do one too. So anyone who wants to join me . . . we have a date in Honolulu one year from now. Love You All!