Here we are at mile 11. Can you see the man in flannel pants? We had an epic battle with him all race, but he ate our dust eventually.
My mom is wearing a trash bag hat that she made. I love that woman. And my butt looks big because I am wearing a fanny pack. That is my story and I am sticking to it.
Mile 11. I am almost certain the man behind us in the pic is peeing.
It was much easier to simply write down on a piece of paper that I wanted to complete a marathon than it actually was to DO. But isn't that always the case, that things on paper come easy but living is hard? To understand my Marathon experience you have to be familiar with a few important numbers: 3. 35. 1. 5,000. 97. 300.
3=The time in the morning Jessi and I woke up to load school buses full of gullible people who all paid for a chance at death on the roads of St. George.
35=The degrees of Fahrenheit it was at the start line. It was pouring rain, cold and miserable.
1=The number of trash bags we were able to steal from an old lady at the start line. 1 trash bag and two very cold and wet woman. Jess let me have the trash bag. Now THAT is love.
5,000=The total number of people who managed to drag themselves across the finish line before Jess and I. An entire small city of people beat us to the finish line. Yup, an entire cities worth.
97=The age of a man who SPRINTED past us at the finish line to narrowly beat us to the end. But he only looked 80 so we don't feel that bad about it. Plus, if we really wanted to, we could have annihilated him. (easy to say after the fact)
300=The amount of people who ate OUR dust on the road. TAKE THAT! It might not be a cities worth but it is more people than who are going to vote for Mcain in the upcoming election so I feel accomplished.
But really, our marathon experience cannot be broken down into a series of numbers. It was one of those life changing moments that you never see coming and so who cares how many people beat you. There we were, two sisters, fighting our way through miserable weather, knee pains, and uncomfortable bathroom moments. But along the way we managed to stop at every mile to take a picture and enjoy the moment, e-mail a dear friend along the way, and cross the finish line together. And as I crossed the finish line all I could think about was that I hoped life ends this way for me. I hope I meet the end with my sister by my side, my parents waiting at the finish, and having shared important moments with wonderful friends along the way. So SAYONARA number 7 on the list. You were WONDERFUL.
