Welcome to Own Your Backbone.
"They all want me to rock them like my back ain't got no bone. I want someone to rock me like my backbone was his own - Darlin', I know you can." --Diana Krall
I run. I muse. I love my friends and my family. I search. I write. I try. I want the best. Is that bad? Your answer shouldn't matter. It's my backbone. But I care.
You are invited to let it all hang out with me. Let's run together. Let's share our AHA! moments in life and in fitness and in health. Have fun. Be real. I will. Here's a sample.
First Marathon Blues
Last month, I ran my first marathon and let's just say. There will be other Finish Lines. Following is a message I sent to my peeps afterwards...
Well...I did it! I now have the cheesy "26.2" sticker for my car . I did not even come close to meeting my pace/time goals but I am coming to terms with that. I actually completed a marathon. Sort of.
Here's my saga. Dawn and I drove down to Va. Beach conflicted. We wanted to run and we wanted wine!! We knew we'd run, we just didn't know how much wine. With two glasses down we decided to try to sleep.
Problem 1 - At 1:30 a.m. Dawn was sleeping soundly and I couldn't. We woke up at 5:00 to begin the morning routine and hope for successful expunging of bodily matter. Some success here (don't you love knowing this?) Any hoo, Dawn and I proceeded to park in our extra special spot 2 blocks from the start and sauntered on over. The half marathon started at 7:00 - Dawn was off and running toward her personal best time. She's the bomb! I lurked around the boardwalk as the full marathon began at 8:00. I made friends with a nice fella and proceeded to my start area. With 2 hours sleep I started my first marathon. At first I held about 9 minute pace
Problem 2 - At mile 8 felt sick to my stomach. I found a spot between 2 cattails and proceeded to try things my husband isn't even aware happens to me.
Problem 3 - At mile 12 my right calf muscle started giving me a fit and I began to tank. I knew I had a long, long way to go and I was finishing this puppy no matter what. I trudged onward.
I had a pretty good stretch from mile 15 to 21, had fun and felt like a bad ass! At mile 22 I started crying because I hurt like a mutha and was too far away to feel close to finishing or to walk it in. So found a way to shuffle, walk, jog and finally run in to the finish of my first marathon. As I rounded the corner to the last stretch by the Atlantic Ocean toward the finish I saw my best fans cheering me on with a gorgeous homemade sign that said "Mom's the Bomb" (Thank you, Nicholas!!) At least they think so! I now have a score to settle with my self and I'm hell on wheels. Thanks for the support.
As told my friend, I went so slow deliberately because I wanted all the octogenarians to qualify for Boston. I'm so nice.
Rock on fellow runners!