My first marathon was an experience I will never forget. The final days leading up to it were filled with all sorts of emotions. Excitement, fear, nervousness, and anticipation were the most prevalent. I remember going to sleep the night before and dreaming that I was late to the starting line. I dreamt that I was DQ’d from the race for being over an hour late, and feeling that all the training and preparation was wasted. Luckly for me, I woke up on time and with a sense of relief. I knew there was no way I would miss this event!

The atmosphere around the starting area was electric. I remember seeing hundreds and hundreds of runners from all walks of life. Young and old, experienced and “green,” some running with friends and/or family, some running alone. There were elite runners and people who looked like it was there first time lacing up. There was a brief ceremony commemorating the day, some quick well wishes from a few keynote speakers, the national anthem was performed and before I knew it, the starting gun was fired!

Almost instantaneously, the months and months of training kicked in. I had envisioned that very moment of starting the marathon countless times over in my head. I remembered telling myself that this was what I had worked for. All the hard work was about to pay off. I nearly started off with a pace that I knew I could not maintain for the entire distance, most likely due to the first time marathon jitters. Fortunately with the first few miles behind me, I settled into a comfortable pace and proceeded to soak up as much as the event as I could.

It is amazing how many runners will actually take the time to wish u luck along the run. A thumbs up, a high five and even a simple nod of acknowledgement were everywhere. Every runner, no matter if they were competing in the team relay, the half marathon or the full marathon, was supporting one another. They all wanted each other to be successful. We all wanted each other to be successful! (I quickly became very much caught up in all of the camaraderie.)

Things started to get difficult once I entered what I liked to call the “deep waters” of the marathon. Even with all my training and preparation, the wheels started to fall off around the 21st mile. Hitting the wall, as some runners call it, is when your body has reached its physical limit and starts to fail on you. It can be very hard to overcome. For me, experiencing it was somewhat traumatic. No matter how hard I tried, every muscle in my body was screaming at me to stop. My legs felt like they were encased in concrete, my kneecaps felt they were about to shatter, and each time my feet hit the pavement, it was like an electric shock to my ankles.

I was in such pain and discomfort at that time, that I actually wanted to quit.