Now I got mileage to go with my baggage

There aren't adequate enough words for me to describe my experience of running in the San Diego Rock n' Roll marathon.

It is a day I'll never forget. It proved to be the ultimate test of endurance, stamina and most importantly - inner strength. The physical pain paled in comparison to the mental obstacle course I navigated through. I never knew that I could push my body so far beyond what I allowed my mind to believe it could do.

There were moments of elation and extreme clarity. And then there were flashes of anguish as the pain and boredom set in and the miles before me seemed to go on forever.

The corrals opened and I flooded the course along with 40,000 other crazy folk. We started out slowly before the crowd thinned a bit and we all got our pace going. Since I had just spent a very long and annoying 45 minutes in line for the port-o-potty, I didn't have any time to stretch and warm up. I literally got to my corral as the gun went off. So it took me a mile or so to warm up and get it going. I began to hit my stride around mile three.

And then this amazing euphoria kicked in for the next 4 miles. I think they call it the runner's high. It was like I was no longer attached to my body. I was just moving, pounding the pavement and propelling my body forward, but my mind was far far away. I was in a zone of thought that I cannot even begin to comprehend. It was strangely freeing. I think for the first time in years, the constant tape I play in my head that causes me hugely unfortunate bouts of insomnia just disappeared. My mind was free and blank and if felt wonderful. I thought about nothing, yet I felt everything.

Apparently I hadn't quite learned all the tricks of the trade. I missed the training class on how to sustain that high for a long period of time. It left me after about 4 miles. Just gone. And I was only at the 7-mile marker. I kept toying with myself. I'd question why I was even doing this.

Was it worth it and what was I trying to prove? And as I listened to asphalt being smacked down under the pressure of my own feet, I found the answers. It was absolutely worth it because I was running in loving memory of my Aunt and my dear friend who suffered from the very diseases I was raising money for.

I slipped into a walk, just for a minute to catch my breath. I looked up and there was a man in a wheelchair holding up a sign. He looked over at me and said he was a survivor. "Don't quit on me now. You can do this. Pick up your pace and keep on going because you can." And I did. And I cried.

I started to feel some pain in my foot and thought this would be the end of the running for me. I was around mile 9 but I just couldn't go any further. I started to walk again. And then this woman came out of nowhere, saw the pain in my eyes and said to me, "Nothing will hurt more than the shame of not crossing that finish like. Keep going. You can do this."

So I ran. And I cried. But I started to have serious doubts about myself and began to question what made me think I could actually do this crazy thing? I didn't take the training all that seriously so I really wasn't all that prepared. Why did I really want to keep running? As if reading my mind, some woman ran past me, but not before I read the back of her shirt, "I run for those that are no longer here to run for themselves." And I was once again off and running with determination. This was my constant mental battle between sitting in pain and pushing through it.

I was running on the 163 freeway and it is a horrible 3 mile journey of one long continuous climb up a hill without any reprieve. I suddenly got filled with frustration and anxiety and just didn't want to continue. I looked ahead at all the people not quitting and they gave me inspiration.

My true melt down came towards the top of the 163. I could feel it stirring inside. I looked up and saw the mile marker for the 15K and tears of panic sprang to my eyes. I knew I didn't have it in me to finish. But just as suddenly, when I looked up again, I clearly saw an image of my lovely Auntie Judy smiling at me and laughing. She never quit anything. She always fought for her kids, her family, and her life. So she hung with me for the next two miles pushing me to run through the pain to get to the other side of the hill. I could hear her laughter, I could see her face in my mind's eye and I could feel her presence. Call me crazy, but she was there with me, making sure I didn't give up on myself. And then I started down the hill and she was gone. She knew when I needed her most.

And then it hit me. I felt this huge shift in my mind. I understood the tremendous conflict between feeling the urge to want to quit and then wanting to search for that strength to push through it all. It was intense and it was profound and I alone owned that struggle within myself.

Seeing my friends along the route was incredible and inspiring. I could never have kept on going without those cheers of good wishes, quick pictures and loving hugs! The true bond of friendship was proven when Hottie Krav Instructor Sam forced me to walk another 5 miles after the race - just to get to his car. No curbside pickup?

As I got close to that finish line, my heart filled with pride. I saw it through, finished what I set out to do four months ago. Something that so many weren't convinced I could - or questioned why I'd want to. I never really knew the answer to that until I crossed that line and hugged my friends and family. It was for a different kind of bragging rights.

It was such a personal accomplishment to be able to push my battered body plagued with multiple injuries to perform at an optimal athletic level. I didn't allow my self-doubt to sabotage my goal. I had to keep mentally pushing myself through each mile with lots of self-talk and mantras that made me believe I was good enough and was worth it enough to see it through. I know that this new inner belief in myself and this internal strength and determination will be with me forever.

Everyone has their own story of why they chose to run this marathon. Mine is neither for heroic reasons nor athletic prowess. I simply wanted to see if the "girl that wasn't really built for running", could in fact run a marathon.

And I did.