Marathon Log.20.   Miles logged: 26.2 miles (!)

"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith." 2 Timothy 4:7

Those words certainly take new meaning as I bask in the reality that I have completed this marathon. To give you an adequate portrait of the final leg of my marathon journey, here's the play-by-play:

4:00am--Race day. I wake up to the beeping sound of my defunct-pager-turned-travel-alarm. The day has finally come! 

From my journal:

"Reminders of your faithfulness surging through my heart, giving me hope for this day.  Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name. May you receive the glory, honor, and praise with every step and breath I take." 

5:30am--Hotel lobby.  In full marathon attire complete with a plastic garbage bag to keep away the rain, we descend to join the sea of other AIDS marathoners.  I scan the crowd for my pace group, and finally locate them.  They are surprised that I'm here.  I have missed a lot of the recent training due to my injury and have been running on my own.  Today I rejoin them.

5:45am--Poydras Street.  We walk out under the still black cover of night to the starting line at the Superdome.  It's lightly raining.  Just the day before thunderstorms (at times severe) were forecast.  We arrive at the Superdome to an interesting quiet.  Everyone is tense, nervous--wondering what the pre-race protocol is.  I wind up using the bathroom twice.

6:45am--Sugar Bowl Drive.  The energy builds as the countdown begins.  I jump around to warm up.  My left leg is sore from walking the streets the two days before.  I can barely tiptoe without it feeling tender.  But everyone is excited.  The crowd inches forward as the start time nears.  I remove my (now fashionable) garbage bag and crumple it in my hand.  The rain is letting up.

7:00am--Official start.  The beginning of what would be nearly 5 hours to the finish line.  Pace groups jostle for position.  A small crowd sends us off.  We start slow, holding ourselves back knowing we have a long road ahead.  I'm feeling good.  The first mile marker comes quickly.  One down!  After 3 miles I begin to get hungry.  Maybe I should have stopped for those beignets when I passed them at Mile 2.  I carefully think when I should pop my first energy gel.  It feels a little too early.  The city is still sleepy, and only a few onlookers line the streets.  We finally hit our first cheering section at Mile 4--it proves to be a timely boost of energy.  I love the crowds!

Mile 4 allows the first glimpse of the front runners of the pack.  They look like race horses, with a steady gallop to their legs.  I go back to running my own race and focus on the slight incline that is next on my path (the only incline in what otherwise is a flat course). 

I see WK as we begin a series of two loop arounds.  We smile and wave.  I'm still feeling good, and grateful that my injury has not at all been an issue.  I realize prayers are being answered, and it's a wonderful thing to experience His care.  Somewhere between here and Mile 10 I pass WK unknowingly.  I see her at Mile 10 and she passes me up.  I eventually lose sight of her.

9:30am--Back at the Superdome.  I arrive at the halfway mark 2 hours and 25 minutes into the race.  The pack splits as some complete what they have come here to do--13 miles.  I still need to the finish the second half.  A few miles down at Mile 17 finds me running all alone.  My pace group has split up.  I still feel strong though this now marks my longest distance ever.  A 58-year old man commends my steadiness.  I see ML and not far after, WK.  They later say that I looked strong at that point.  The second half of Audobon Park is my nemesis.  Now on my own, each mile marker seems further and further apart.  Finally, I hit the wall at Mile 22.  My legs feel like they come up from under me.  I begin to cry out and almost too appropriately I see the Phil.4:13 sign that I have passed twice before.  This time I pump my fist in the air and shout "I can do all things through Christ," surprising the people holding the sign.  I regain feeling in my legs.

All along my attitude has been to focus on Christ.  I find when I run I can only comprehend thoughts of the uncomplicated variety.  So simple worship songs fill my heart.  And if nothing else, I remind myself, "to God be the glory."  And if I can't muster an encouragement to others, I maintain a smile.  It's odd, but I find myself to be more extraverted on this day, cheering other runners on and generously doling out the high-fives.

The last five miles are still excruciating and feel entirely too lonely.  My legs feel like bricks as I begin to wonder if the race organizers have played a cruel joke by forgetting the mile markers.  I shrink back, resorting to more walk breaks.  But each successive walk break makes it harder to restart.  I start rehearsing the apology I would give to WK and ML for having to wait for me for so long.

I'm in the middle of a battle to finish.  The Superdome is nowhere in sight.  Instead my only view is a huge Macy's sign.  Someone tells me I'm almost there.  It doesn't feel like it. After what seems an eternity I run up the final ramp and turn into the Superdome.  I see the finish line and I sprint with newfound energy.  I don't remember my name being called, but I do remember a wave of emotion well up from my soul.  I want to cry, but I stop myself.  The finisher's medal is placed around my neck as I savor the moment.

"Surely this is my God-I trusted in him and he saved me.  This the LORD, I trusted in him..." Isaiah 25:9    

Click here to see my march to the finish line!