The Marathon. It Sucked.

The long slog begins

It’s taken me more than a week to properly process the beat down that was the San Antonio Marathon last Sunday.

Long story short, I actually finished it, but it took me more than five painful hours. I have many excuses.

1.) My running buddy, with whom I’d been training since July, got nauseated around mile 15. This led us to stop for about twenty minutes as he debated inside a porta-potty whether he needed to throw up. I told him, F*CK IT, JUST DO IT LIVE! (as Bill O’Reilly would say), but I think he ended up keeping all those Gu energy gels in his system.

2.) The energy drink of choice at the SA Rock ‘n Roll Marathon? Something called Cytomax, which really smelled and tasted more of Pedialite mixed with Honey Cough, by Robitussin. I was really hurting for Powerade.

3.) Did not plan for upper 80’s and thick humidity in mid-November, but that’s really a lame excuse considering I do live in Texas.

4.) Running buddy Eddie from bullet point number one ended up hitting the proverbial wall at mile 19. This was highly unfortunate, as I was already nearing something like a wall. Decided, ultimately, to leave him behind, but this was probably not the smartest decision as I spent the last 7.2 miles feeling alone and angry that I was still running.

Finally, FINALLY made it through, and a lot of thanks go to the strangers who were out there supporting us with awesome signs. My favorites included:

“KEEP RUNNING, WE’RE ALREADY DRUNK”
“This is hard. That’s what she said!”

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