A MARATHON IS NOT A RACE

During my marathon, I started strong. I ran 9:50 minute miles for the first 10k. I was stride for stride with my sis. My goal of finishing was within reach. About Mile 9, though, my back of my knee started hurting. I knew it may flare up, but it actually hurt bad. So, there I was running and starting to get some pain. I ran the first half of the marathon in 2:16-right on target. I ran until mile 16 with my sis. I knew she had desires to shatter 4:30 in the marathon, and wihle we started that pace, I couldn't keep it up. So, I told her to fly ahead, leave me a gel pack and go for it. I called her babe, which she didn;t care for, but hey she is my sis-and i was proud of her too. She took off and would have made her record if it wasn't for me in the miles from 9-16. those 7 miles she ran with me, made her miss her mark, but I knew she cared to make sure I was good. I had no question about finishing, I didn't train all those months, fly out to NY, to fail. Plus determination is something that I carry as a value. I ran in so much pain, there was one point where I was almost crying. Plus the emotion of running 10 years and 7 days to the date of my brain surgery made this event so surreal. I soaked it in, every mile. I ran with a guy who ended up living 7 miles away from me. I will say I was not winded, but I was in pain. Gatorade, a gel, a banana, and water kept me hydrated. I did find a wall of somesort between mile 18-23. Those were some long miles. Quieter crowds and a cute Jewish community who was there but not vocal at all-duh, it was their Sabbath. I guess I run better when people were cheering me on. My time eventaully fluctuated down to 12:47 minute miles. I didn't know it at the time, but I knew I was slowing down. I made it into Manhattan with people yelling my name like crazy. They could see i was in pain. They must have, because I was wincing in pain. I made it down 5th Avenue headed toward Central Park. I found my dad in the crowd and stopped to take a pic and hang out. Then I proceeded to the last mile. One more and I was done. The pain was still there and I pushed through. I realized that in life, people run like life is a race. Sorry, but I prefer to run like a marathon. Slow down enjoy life and soak in the scenery and people around you. If you try to run the marathon like a sprint, you are either crazy or dead quicker than you want to be. The bands kept me going, the New Yorkers from all the burroughs, the cheers, and the realization that crossing the finish line was the desired goal and eventual outcome. The finish line is the goal, one that I knew I would cross, and cross it I did. In 5:34 minutes. It was amazing.