Good evening team. And how are you? It’s Monday night in my neck of the woods, and what a Monday it has been. I don’t even know why, or how, or what happened, but I was up before my alarm, and kinda, sorta, ready to kick ass this week.

I am still incredibly happy from the whole Marathon & Half Marathon shenanigans that took place yesterday. So happy, in fact, that I wanted to simply write something that I’ve been thinking about alllllll day. Probably more for my record, than anything else.

Remember my first full marathon? The Chicago marathon on 10-10-10? And Las Vegas? And Berlin? Well each and everyone of those marathons I crossed the finish line so ANGRY at myself, or wait, a better term would be DISAPPOINTED in myself.

Especially the Berlin marathon. I finished that marathon in 5 hours and 10 minutes, but had completed all my training long runs, including the 37k (23 miles) at a 4 hour 30 marathon pace. I wanted under 5 hours more than anything, and all I could dwell on from Berlin was how I had failed at that goal.

Confession: even until this weekend I hated telling people my marathon times (or cringed when I saw people through the Stats page look up my times on this blog).  I knew I was slow. So slow. And felt a rush of embarrassment sweep over my body when somebody found out my time.

Then.
Yesterday.
After my half marathon.
I watched the full marathoners finish.
And?

WOW!

Something changed in me, and as tears filled my eyes for all those random strangers completing such a huge goal, I was suddenly in awe of myself. As if *I* had done that! And suddenly, my 5:10 marathon seemed pretty damn good. And suddenly I realized that a marathon is a marathon is a marathon and they’re DAMN HARD, and finishing it in and of itself is a HUGE accomplishment. So yea, I got all proud and weird and happy all of today because I had got 5:10 in the Berlin Marathon over a year ago (fun fact: the average woman completes a marathon in 5:10), but better late than never, right? Right.

So what’s next for me?
Good question Internet person.
Goal setting. That’s what.

I want to get skinner (yessss, I know, but it’s true). Faster. Stronger. Better. In pretty much all aspects of my life. I’m feeling really determined lately, and am feeling really ready to commit (yet again), which means… bring on the next post; goals.

Online is wrong.

A fast guy in my running group and I accidentally switched expo bags.

I didn’t make my goal.

I don’t know what it is yet.

But it’s not sub 5.

My guess is 5:08ish.

My soul hurts more than my body.

And my face is stained with tears.

Emotional day.

That’s all for now.

Expos are fun-fun-fun! Always.

For all you non-runners out there, “race expos” are where you pick up your race bib and time chip, and they’re usually filled with lots of fun, awesome (crazy expensive!) running goodies.

I’d recount the exact details of it for you, but a) that be all sorts of boring, and b) I forget it, as yesterday was quite the blur (re: 32 hours straight being awake). 

But here some magical photos from yesterday which I found on my camera this morning, complete with all-you-need-to-know captions.  

Ta-Da! Wanna follow me run?  What’s that? You don’t want to get up at 3am your time? Psssh, don’t lie, you so do… I think you can go here and input my bib# to see me, that is, if you know German.

Fingers crossed and happy vibes for sub 5 pleaseeeeee - eeek, so nervous!

Oh! Oh! Looooook at who I met up with! The Mr. Robert himself. You can follow him too. He’ll be faster than me, but that doesn’t necessarily mean more awesome.

I spent 55euros (rip. off) on the blue/yellow sweater in the foreground.  Maybe it’ll make me run like her… maybe, just maybe.

The route. This means as much to you, as it does to me - every corner will be a big surprise tomorrow.

Done and done.

THEN, to make another long story I don’t remember, short, we hit the town to carb load. This, without a doubt is my favourite part of marathons - tied, of course, with crossing the finish line and crying into the stranger who gives me my medal’s shoulder - always a very touching and not awkward moment. 

NOM. Let it be known - this was the marathon special pasta fiesta. Three of us dove into this baby like it was our jobs, although yes, yes it’s true, I probably could have eaten it by myself. I’m talented like that. 

Perfect evening, despite being a zombie with red eyes for 99.999% of it.