So you think you want to run a marathon

Let me be the first to admit, the end of my marathon was not the victorious image that I had in my head. I had envisioned myself bounding across the finish line, arms raised, a huge grin on my face. What really happened was more of a dragging of my deadened limbs across the line, head thrown back because i didn't have the energy to hold it up straight anymore and my mouth half open in a moan. Super victorious. The first words out of my mouth when I crossed the finish line were " I am never. doing. that. again."

Well, its almost two weeks later. I have only been running once since, and yet I am already considering when my next one will be. Mom compared it to having a baby, which was weirdly appropriate. I suppose the accomplishment erases the pain after a little bit.

But I am getting ahead of myself. Mom arrived on Thursday night. I missed the first bus to the airport so I was about 40 minutes late. When i got there she was sitting in the arrival's area looking adorably nervous. I brought her a Hallabong ( a Korean hybrid tangerine ) and we shared it together while waiting for the bus back to Pyeongtaek.

For the first part of the visit I was feeling really off. I was in a bit of a perpetual funk as I thought about my marathon. I had been out of commission from running for almost a week and a half because of my sickness and my hospital visit - I have to admit - I was freaking out. I knew I had to try to run the marathon, but i was terrified that I wouldn't be able to finish and I knew how disappointed I would be with myself if I couldn't. Mom and I rode the train to Seoul on Saturday morning. We took the subway to our hotel, changing subway lines three times. I probably shouldn't have done this, as we had to lug our suitcases all over the platforms and I wanted to save my legs for the next day, but I wanted to show my mom how to use the subway system. Mom was going to have to use the subway system the next day to get from the starting line to the finish line, and she was freaking out about getting lost in Korea and not being able to communicate with anyone.

Our hotel was pretty amazing. Heated floors, a living room, a refrigerator, washing machine, stove, sink....it was amazing. We spent the rest of the day watching movies on tv and giggling about the Korean commercials. For dinner that night we ate at the restaurant in the hotel, "montour." Mom ordered "pizza" and I got seafood pasta which was complete with oysters, squid, baby octopus, and other unknowns. After dinner, back in the room, I laid out my clothes, tied my timing chip to my shoes, and pinned my race number to my shirt.

After eight hours of sleep broken up five or six times by stumbling to the bathroom to pee, I woke up to eat half of a dry bagel and a banana and get dressed. I hadn't felt that nervous since Saturday mornings on the speech circuit. So I dealt with the nerves in the same way I did during speech. I put in my headphones and jammed out to some serious tunes. The same tunes, I might add, that I gave to one of my besties, Maddy, for her senior year AFA (speech nationals)...which she is at....right....now. I am have been thinking about my team constantly, and am so proud of the direction that the team seems to have taken recently. I hope that they are rocking out to some of the jams that I shared. See, you can be in Korea and still be connected.

Mom and I took the subway to the starting line. The race packet told me that I would have to take public transportation because everything would be shut down, so I tried to get a hotel room close to the starting line....I knew I was close when I reserved the room, but the subway stop right outside of our apartment was literally one stop away from the start. It was great not having to stress about that. Once we stepped off of the subway and on to the platform - I just can't describe it. Koreans. EVERYWHERE. So many people. Mom grabbed onto my jacket and held on for dear life as I navigated the crowds. Hundreds of groups in matching gear were stretching together down in the Subway platform because it was shielded from the wind that was gusting at up to 17mph. The smell....icy-hot. There were clouds as men were spraying down their calves and their clothing. It was like breathing in Vicks Vapor rub.

The starting line is on one of the most famous intersections in Seoul. It is a small ways away from the "blue house" (Korea's White House). In the center is a huge statue of Admiral Yi Sun Shin. Yi Sun Shin is famous for his courage and loyalty during the conflicts with the Japanese and for helping build the first iron clad ships in the world. The intersection is really open with Gyeongbokgung palace to the north and the mountains rising up behind that. People were everywhere and I had no idea where to go. I spotted a white person and grabbed them in the hopes that they spoke English. Victory! He asked me if I was a member of the Seoul Flyers (a Seoul running club) which of course, I was not, but he still told me to follow him back to the group. The Seoul Flyers were clustered around the Yi statue, some jumping around in the vain attempt to keep warm. Did I mention that it was 0 Degrees Celcius? We joined the group and I got to meet a few people, one of which was the wife(Lara) of previously mentioned Caucasion(James). Imagine my surprise when we learned through our small talk that Lara was actually from - wait for it - Overland. Park. Kansas. She insisted that Mom join her as she followed the marathon and Mom dissolved into tears. "Mom, " I hissed, "you can not cry!" "God is good." was all she would say. Oh mommo.

The starting times were staggered to ease congestion so while I waited for my group to begin I chatted it up with several of the Seoul Flyers. I struck up a quick friendship with Jewel, a woman who's goal time was almost exactly what my pre-hospital visit goal time was and decided that I would try to run with her. Foolish, foolish Anne. I feet confident and smooth for the first third of the marathon and I was able to stick with her up to about the Half mark. Suddenly, at the 20 kilometer mark, I realized that things were going to get rough real soon. I could sense that leaden feeling creeping into my legs. I knew that feeling. I got it at the very end of my long runs. I was nowhere near the end of this VERY long run. So I kept running.

It is so hard to explain how it feels to "hit the wall." You are running. You are exhausted. You are frustrated with yourself because you can't go faster. You start focusing on everyone else around you - thinking that they could not possibly feel how you are feeling, because obviously you are in the most pain out of everyone in the whole wide world. And while you are thinking about all the people around you, you are unnaturally aware of how totally miserable you are. Your legs could fall off. Your lungs have literally gotten so tired that your breath is shallow and your chest hurts. You feel like you are running as fast as you could possibly run, and yet you are shuffling along at what you are disgustingly aware of as a snails pace. So you want to stop. Your legs, your lungs, your feet, your arms are all screaming at you to STOP. This is the point when most people stop to walk or quit. And perhaps all those walkers know something that I don't. It is probably smart to walk and pick up again when you can put more effort into it, but all I had in my head was "Gurrrl, you better not let your butt stop, because God knows if you are going to start up again." I cursed a LOT in my head. I haven't cursed that much since high school. Its a good thing that most Koreans don't know English because when I finally crossed the Han river and realized that I still had about 6 miles to go, I actually let out a few choice phrases. But hey, I never walked. Its not much, but its one of the things I am most proud of.

I finished in 4 hours, 42 minutes, and 38 seconds. Nowhere near my goal, but all things considered, I am very proud of myself.

Like I said, my first words to my mother who was grinning and waiting for me at the end was that I was never doing it again, but I think I just might. I want to try running a marathon with all the strategies that I learned this time around and avoiding the injuries that I sustained this year with my back. I mean, I HAVE to defend my title as the fastest marathoner in the family. Just you try to take that away from me Mark, I dare you. Nothing like a little friendly family competition to get our rears in gear.

Mom and I collected my metal and my bag of food, I downed three bottles of water within five minutes, and we made our way to the subway station for the long ride back to the hotel. Once at the hotel I made a very important stop at the 7-11 on the first floor of the hotel to purchase chocolate. I purchase some delicious cookies with chocolate caps on them and a few chocolate bars. I ate them all that night. I guess I shared the cookies with mom, but we just relaxed on the sofa drinking Coke Zeros and watching movies all night long.

When I woke up the next day, every single inch of my body ached. This is not an exaggeration. If I shrugged, I moaned a little bit. I called into work and took one of my sick days - I totally needed it - and my mother and I slept in and decided to explore Seoul a little bit.

But THAT, my dears, is another story for another day. If you are lucky, and if you nag my mom a bit, we might be able to talk her into a "guest post." I have already asked her to write down her observations and email them to me. You up for it?