My First Blog

I wanted my first blog to coincide with another first for me. But since trying to write this blog we have experinced lots of firsts in our lives. The first first I am going to write about is this little thing I did the past few months, training for and running a marathon. Two friends of mine talked me into doing the Milwaukee marathon. Really they wanted to do the Chicago marathon, but by the time they convinced me I could do a marathon the Chicago one was full so we opted for Milwaukee. Which in the end was one of the best things we could of done. We followed an 18 week training program, which prepared us physically for the race. There were ups and downs of course. Ups being when you accomplish running farther then you ever have before and feeling good, and downs being when your body just doesn't want to go any farther. (You learn your body needs proper fuel and sleep and you learn to like things you didn't before like Gatorade!) Finally race day arrives and you realize that the training program has prepared you physically, but not emotionally. There is just no describing the feelings of stepping to the start line of your first marathon. You start, you run, and for me I prayed. Running is a time I often pray, it's a quiet time for reflection. The miles go by, we smile, we laugh, we are having fun. Our main goal was not to qualify for Boston, but to finish. Point A to point B we would say. We didn't have a time expectation. As the miles go by you start to see people who aren't going to finish, who are spent, and oh so disappointed. Just finish you think to yourself. Mile 24 my legs were done, but running is mind over matter, we continue. Mile 25 I see Chase. I start to cry. I am not sure why. He jogs along side of us offering encouragement. He says "I will meet you at the finish mom, just a little more!"I cry. I am usually on the side offering him words of encouragement. I am not use to the role reversal. We near the finish, which agreed we would do together. We had trained together we would finish together. I see the rest of my family with signs "That's my mommy", "You rock", "Hurry up, we are cold!" (sense of humor, very important!) I cry. They are cheering, it feels like we are in slow motion, we probably are! I cry. They were with ME every step of the way, my family. 18 weeks they cooperated and helped ME train. Race weekend happened  to fall on homecoming weekend, which they gave up for ME. They, for 5 hours and 30 some minutes waited, hoped, and cheered for ME. I cry. I am not use to it being about ME! My family is my rock, my masterpiece, I would do anything and everything for them, and I realize they would and do the same for ME. Mary and I finish our marathon hand in hand. We did it, all of us, not just ME! I thank my family, and know that even if it was just for one special day, they were as proud of ME as I am of them. Thank you GOD for blessing me so immensely.