I did it!

I did it! I really did it!

Right now, I'm sitting, after a day of sitting at home, icing my knees and dragging my legs around...but I did it!

It hasn't hit me yet that I ran a full marathon yesterday morning. It took me 5 hours, 3 minutes, and 1 second, but I finished, and that was my ultimate goal. I can't say at this point that I'm looking forward to running another one, but I know I'm not going to stop running. My husband and I are thinking of doing a half together next year, but we'll see what happens between now and then.

So, how exactly WAS the marathon? Where do I start?

I actually got a good 6-7 hours of sleep the night before. I didn't sleep very deeply, but I did get some rest. I woke up at quarter to 5. It was still very dark outside, but nothing was going to get me to go back to sleep. I had packed my stuff the night before, so all I really had to do was get dressed and eat something. I had my powerbar ready for me and some Gatorade (yes, for breakfast), but that's what I eat before a morning run on any other day, and like all my coaches said, don't try anything new.

My husband, brother and I headed out. I was feeling more excited than nervous at this point. All I had in mind was crossing that finish line. As the sun came up, I got more and more eager to start. After gathering with my team and making a pit-stop at the porto-potty (ew...I didn't go the second time just before the start because they were all out of toilet paper and the lines were lllllong) I headed with some of my family to my corral.

It was amazing to be among so many runners with the same goal in mind - to finish. Of course, many had a time in mind and I'm sure we all had different reasons for coming to do this marathon. The energy was amazing. Everyone was pumped up and ready to go. We all walked towards the actual start and once we got a step or two before it, we were running.

The big thing to keep in mind at the beginning of the race was to remember to pace myself. I'm proud -- that's exactly what I did. People tend to rush at the beginning, which is characteristic of any race, and so when one person sees people passing, the tendency is to speed up to either be at the same pace as them, or pass them. I didn't care. These people were passing me and many of them I passed later on in the race. The key was to conserve my energy for 15K or so down.

The course was lined with cheering groups, people cheering, support was everywhere. It didn't matter if they didn't know you -- they were cheering for you. It felt good.

I had to pee. I really should have gone before the marathon started, and I had thought that I could have gone to one of the port-o-potties along the course, but the lines there were also pretty bad. I didn't get to go until 16-17K later, but after I busted out of that stinkbooth, I was ready to go.

My family had scattered themselves along the course after the start, so I always knew that somewhere along the route, I'd hear them screaming my name. That was great motivation. Another huge thing that helped keep me going was something my husband did for me. He got a few family members and friends to record motivational messages that he put on my iPod and put them between my songs on my "***RUN!!!!!" playlist. Those really got me going.

I was really proud of myself for going so strong for as long as I did. I only felt my wonky knees once and after that, my thinking took over and I didn't feel the pain again. I went pretty strong and had good form and a good pace right up to about 30-32k. My couches and my mentor and fellow teammates had seen me along the way and their cheers and exchanges of "GO TEAM!" really helped me.

The 30-32K point was a challenge. By then, my stomach had started to turn on me. I was nearing the peak of my distance training and so anything after this was new to me. I hadn't anticipated the nausea I felt at this point. I continued to push myself and one of my coaches found me and my other team mate and she got me to do some intervals, which I don't usually do, but decided to do this time because running was not making the nausea go away. After a while I okayed her and my teammate to continue on and I walked for a bit. A medic even stopped to give me some watered down Powerade and biked beside me to make sure I was okay.

This whole ordeal was beginning to affect my thinking. At this point, I HATED running. I was even starting to vow that I would never run again. Oooh, it was ugly. I wanted to keep eating my blocks or a gel since my brain needed sugar so I could think more positively, but I wasn't sure what that'd do to my stomach. I knew that this wasn't me thinking rationally and I picked up my feet and dragged myself a few more kilometers. I knew that 5-7K wasn't very long to go and that if I kept going, I could make it in less than an hour. I really thought I had been running for 6 hours already; I was so tired. I needed a miracle and I found myself praying harder to God than I had been already, even if He himself came down or got some of His angels to pick me up and fly me over the finish line. I was delirious.

Just as I was getting closer to the city, I still found that I was thinking I didn't have it in me to continue running. Then, all of a sudden, some guy, not participating as a runner, said to me, "Okay, let's go Katrina." This guy got me to the finish line. I don't know how he did it. This was Richard. He knew exactly how to help me get there, even if it was little by little, and he ran with me. I told him I was feeling very nauseous and he said that if I have to vomit, to just do it and get it over with. I wanted to, but something in me wasn't going to let me stop to let this happen. I kept going and as we approached a water station, the last one before the finish, he took my empty bottles from my fuel belt and refilled them for me. He wanted to make sure I got there okay and didn't fall over from being dehydrated.

He told me I could walk after the water station, but I kept going. He caught up with me, told me he found one of my team mates and was going to grab her and we would all do this together. So we did. My team mate had messed up her knee along the way and so she was struggling too. He even got me to start thinking positively again...

When I thought I was going to fly up to space and beat up the sun for making it so hot, he told me to take in the sunshine and remember that this is my moment. He left me at 100m and cheered me on and told me to remember that this part is the part I do on my own.

I got there and crossed the line.

BOY DID IT FEEL GOOD.

I got my medal and my "silver blanket" and headed over to our team tent. I found my mentor and we exchanged stories and even got to congratulate the team mate who did the last stretch with me and Richard. My family caught up with me and we hung out for a bit...and then I threw up. Booo...

Then it was off to the victory party where I caught up with many of the half-marathoners and marathoners, coaches and staff and ate a bit...then I threw up again. Booooooooooooo...

We headed home for a bit and I took a much needed shower (quite possibly one of the best in my life so far, haha) and an ice bath, and then iced my knees.

What a day.