Mere steps from the finish line at the capital. One of these days I'm going to celebrate myself flat on my face. I'm in post marathon strange world right now. The feet are healing, I can almost descend stairs straight again, and I think that weepy feeling everytime I eat is just about gone. Funny how our brains react under stress. I think my sense of accomplishment in my first marathon will always be tempered by my disappointment in my time, but I also can't help but feel running through a hard day is worth more in the bank for IMFL than reaching my goal might have been. This left me strangely hungry. Hungry to train-harder. Hungry to push-farther. Hungry to work-smarter, much smarter. 140.6 is a long way to travel in a day, let the training commence.
The marathon was not without it's humor, the "Bob" sign being among the many that made me laugh. "Keep running, naked men ahead" (which never materialized) and "Beer Station" (crossed out by "sorry they shut us down"). At one point I was talking to a complete strangers feet, in response to "tell my feet that" more to say, but the carpool waits.