My First Marathon

Well, it’s official I am not so great at this whole blogging thing.

I could say that it is because I am so caught up in the moment that I just don’t have time to blog. I could also say that it is because I just haven’t felt like writing much over the last two weeks. I’ll let you decide which one is true.

Since this is my first blog post running my first marathon, I should probably mention my experience.

It was the hardest thing I have ever done.

I now know in some small way what Kipling was getting at when he wrote –

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve you long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

My race wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t fast. There were more tears than I really care to admit to shedding in a public forum. I really dislike the guy who came up to me at mile 23 and told me that it doesn’t get better. (I passed him in the home stretch and beat him by a full minute. So there!) It was awful. Pictures exist of me running it, but even my mother hasn’t seen them.

The important thing is that I finished. I crossed that line. Victory.

My unofficial running coach and all the articles I read warned me about all the side effects of running 26.2 miles. I was prepared for the muscle pain, the headache, the dehydration, the chaffed skin, the ability to only move by waddling, the blisters, the crying when you realize that your hotel is a half-mile walk up a very steep hill, and the desire to do nothing but lay in bed. They did not warn me about marathon amnesia.

What is that?

Well, it’s a horrible ailment where you quickly forget how awful running a marathon really is and you sign up for another one.

Yes, I am running another.


Marathon amnesia.

Am I crazy?


But really…why?

I don’t know how to explain it. It’s another one of those experiences where words don’t really do it justice. All I can say is that crossing the finish line, receiving my medal, and realizing that I had done it, something in me changed. I had done something that I had thought I would never do. Ever. Less than a year ago I was supremely confident that I would never run a marathon. After all, only crazy people and Jason Darnell did that. And yet, here I was crossing the finish line after a 26.2 miles.

Am I crazy?


Is it a good kind of crazy?


Thank you to all the people who supported me during this experience. The prayers, the water bottles, the advice, the encouragement, and the love were all very much appreciated. I’ll need them again as I begin training for my second marathon.*Heavy, but Excited Sigh*

A special thanks to Cherrie Ford who once said to me—”God gave us legs so that we could use them.” You weren’t telling me that I should run a marathon. We were just talking about how God designed us in a certain way and how cool that was. But that conversation is the reason that I started running.

I didn’t know then and I still don’t know now where God is leading me, but I know that I want to run after him all the days off my life.

2 thoughts on “My First Marathon

  1. Penny

    I am so proud of you!!! Run Sarah run! And yes, run after His heart! Who knows, the marathons may afterwards bring forth cheese, crackers, smoked sausage 😜! I love you! Big hugs

    Liked by 1 person

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