The Dream is Alive!

What a weird last few weeks I have had...It seems like I have been living in an alternate reality for a while now. About February life for me was how I like it. I was very focused on growing our youth ministry, marathon training, and being a good husband. Then things got bananas. I worked two weeks straight. We installed a new sound system, lighting system and video system. I wanted to leave about noon on Friday to head to middleofnowhere, Kansas, but Friday just wouldn't go right. We didn't get on the road until after 5 on Friday evening, and I felt a bit bummed. I felt so ready in early March, but no a month later I didn't feel ready at all. When we went to bed I was really nervous about how things were going to go.

The alarm went off, I got ready and headed out to the race sight. It was cold, windy, and I just wasn't sure if I could do it. As I was standing there stewing about everything, the gun went off, and we were off. I had 4 hammer gels with me and about 1/4 or a mile into the race two of them fell out of my pocket. So much for that. Miles 1-5 were rather uneventful, I was holding just below an 11 minute mile pace, which was right on pace. My first marathon in May of '04 I posted the monster number of 5:16. I was hoping on this day to come in below 5 hours. I didn't care if it was 4:59:59, I just didn't want another 5-something. About mile 7 my legs started to feel a bit heavy, which really started to scare me because I knew there was a long, long way to go. At mile 9, I lost 2 minutes and some self-respect by nearly peeing my pants waiting for a porta-potty. I got to the halfway point at 2:25, which was decent, but my legs were continually getting getting tighter and more painful

Miles 14-20 were plum enjoyable. My legs didn't feel bad, they hurt a bit, but nothing unbearable. I was holding my 11 minute mile pace, I was happy with how things were going, and mostly I was hoping that there wasn't a wall coming. During the first Marathon I did, I felt absolutely miserable from mile 18 to the end. This time around, I suffered, but it didn't really come until mile 22, when I just couldn't hold on any longer. My legs felt like death, every step hurt, and the finish line was still a ways away. 22-24 were a battle, with some running and too much walking. Then, slightly before the 24 mark I got inspired and was able to run the rest of the way in. To see the finish clock reading 4:59 as I finished made me chuckle. I accomplished my goal, just barely.

So here I am, I weigh about 215, and I have finished a marathon so far this year. The ironman dream seems like something that can still happen. I have a lot of weight still to lose and a lot of work to do on my swim and bike, but the dream is alive!!

Later,
-Matt