The St. George Almost-athon

High Hopes. Crazy, unrealistic, dangerous, naive, ambitious, pipe-dream hopes. I had to think before the race that I could do it. I had to think I could maintain a 17 minute mile the whole time. I had to think I wouldn't have anything hurt. I had to think I would get to mile 23 in 6 hours. I had to think it wasn't a crazy decision. I had to think I wouldn't give up. I had to think I had it in me. I had to think I would finish. I had to think it. I was totally delusional but I had to be to get there.

I have a lot of regret, sadness, and disappointment about running in St. George. I have to force myself to be proud of the 20 miles I did do, but it's not real. The disappointment is real. The pride is what I should feel. I have to admit that I made the right decision because I did stop before I completely/irreparably hurt myself but I don't feel good that I made the decision. Maybe it was because I had won the entry to St George and felt like I couldn't pass it up but also that I had an out because I wasn't prepared, I was thrust into it. My official time says that I finished and I have a medal because the crew that picked me up where I broke down at mile 20 tried to call me in as a pick up but they couldn't get a hold of the finish line crew. My medal has a chunk missing from it so I tell myself that it was meant to be. That I deserved that medal because I did most of it with just a little chunk missing. I don't feel that way though. I feel like a thief. I wish I had pushed myself till I couldn't possibly make one more step. That I had just sat down and rested a minute and then gone on to hobble across the finish 3 hours later. I didn't though and I will always regret that. Sometimes life is that way. Afternoon specials will tell you that trying is what matters. That is partly true. Making the attempt counts just like the thought does but actually finishing counts in a whole other way. That is the truth and it is also the truth that sometimes we disappoint ourselves. I can't get back that moment where I decided to get on in the car and be driven the rest of the way. It is a part of my life. I learned from it, mostly that I never want to feel that again, that goals mean something, and the best way to get something done is to make a goal and never waver from it. The pain, embarrassment and regret I'll feel if I don't reach it is enough to keep me going. Oh, and put your toilet paper stash in a plastic bag. Marathons always have a way of getting stuff soggy.