Once a runner.

"What I mean is that someone sees a race, and they think that's what you do. They sort of know you had to train, but they weren't watching then, so they don't understand how incredibly much of it there is. But to us, it's almost the whole thing. Racing is just this little tiny ritual we go through after everything else has been done. It's a hood ornament." -Again to Carthage

I ran a marathon.

I kind of still don't believe it. I keep thinking I'll awake to find it was a dream. But I did it. And now I'm trying to wrap my head around what all of this has meant to me. Not just the marathon itself, but the days, weeks, months, and years that have gotten me to this point.

I've already kind of summed up my past and how I started running here. But now that I've spent hundreds of miles, and countless hours within myself, I've had to confront myself in ways that I never before understood. I want to put that down in order to tell you a story.

Chubby Lisa

First, I was always the fat kid growing up. As long as I can remember, I always felt fat and thus inadequate. I knew I was also smart and fun. I had a lot of wonderful friends growing up. But now matter what other things I was, I always categorized myself first and foremost as fat. And no matter what the scale said, what size I was, I always felt fat. I couldn't get over that.

You don't become a champion by winning a morning workout. The only true way is to marshal the ferocity of your ambition over the course of many days, weeks, months, and (if you could finally come to accept it) years. The Trail of Miles; Miles of Trials. - Once a Runner

As I started running though, an amazing thing happened- and it's not that I lost weight. In fact, there have been long stretches of training where I haven't lost any weight. What happened was as I had to sit within my mind for hours every week, running mile after mile- I came to know myself. I came to know how strong I was. I came to know that I was SO much stronger than I thought possible. Every time I ran further than I had before, my confidence grew. It grew, and grew, and grew. And there was nothing but my body and mind that had gotten me there. As that grew, I started to understand what I've never really understood in the core of my being before- I am amazing. And I don't mean that in haughty, prideful way- I mean that in a way that each and every person needs to feel. That there is something so deep within us, that is profound, and true, and real- that we are amazing. And that was it. All of the sudden I didn't care anymore. I didn't care what other people thought. I didn't care what the scale said. I didn't care what size my pants were. I didn't care what other people thought I could/should do. Because I knew my true self. When you've been out pushing your body past pain, past breath, past everything you thought was possible- everything else just melts away. I guess some would call it a 'clarity of thought' or self actualization. I'd just call it intense self-analysis. I came to know who I was, what had made me this way, and realize I had a choice of who I am going to become. I no longer felt dictated by my past, but purely in charge of my future.

What I wake up to every morning...

When I decided to run a half-marathon, I thought I was crazy. Then I did it. Then a few months later, I did another one. And another one. Then I decided to run a marathon. Something I've never had even an inkling to do- not on my 'bucket list', not a goal ever before. But I just wanted to see how far I could go. So I took it one week, one mile, one run at a time. The miles and hours built up, and my body did too. People in my family would ask why I wanted to do this and kind of look at me like I was crazy, and honestly I couldn't articulate why- I just wanted to show to myself that I could. They didn't understand why it was so important. It wasn't the race. It was the hours and hours of dedicated time to a single goal. To prove that I could focus enough to accomplish something deemed impossible by myself, and most others.

Getting all ready the night before.

Carb-loading!!!

And I did it. It started early, before the sunrise with 16,000 other people. We ran in a mass herd of people- a communal hive mind. All happy, cheering, and energetic to be up early on a Saturday morning and doing something most people thought was crazy. The people cheering on the sidelines became my friends. They handed me food, water, held signs that made me smile and laugh. They gave me high fives and rang cow bells. They would call out my name on my bib, and cheer me on. Where else do perfect strangers do that? Then there was those I ran with. I kept up my pace until 18 miles, where the course became pure hills. I knew that I had to slow down if I wanted to finish. In those last miles of hills, those I was running with became my friends. We all kept saying "We got this!" "Keep going!" We'd talk about where we were from, our family, why we were doing this. We became friends because we understood what we were both going through at that moment. There was no pretenses. We were running the same distance. As I got closer and closer to the finish, I turned my music so loud and just mouthed out the words as I ran. I am sure I looked ridiculous. The last mile was all down hill. And I ran. Probably faster than the whole rest of the race. I knew I was so close. The course had us come through the gate and into the middle of the a major league baseball stadium. Everyone cheered me down the line. Calling me by name. I raised my arms, just like your supposed to as I crossed and started to cry (at least tried too- no tears would come out because I was so dehydrated). The race directors shook my hands and hugged me to congratulate me on completing my first marathon. It was surreal.

The marathon is a race of attrition. You've got to understand that. You've got to come to grips with that...No one really wins a marathon. You just survive it better- Again to Carthage

And now it's done, what does it all mean? What have I learned?

I've learned a lot about running in general. I've learned the logistics of long distance running. When to go to the bathroom, how not to chafe, and other weird things no one tells you. But what I've really learned is I can do anything. Anything. A year ago I would have absolutely said that me running a marathon was impossible. Period. But I did it. It wasn't impossible. And now I've gained the confidence that I can do whatever else I want to. In the process of this, I've applied and been accepted to graduate school at Georgetown University. I would have never had the confidence to attempt that before. Now I know if I want it bad enough, I can do it. Rick is planning on doing medical school after completing his PhD. That absolutely sounds crazy. But now, I know we can do it. Because we can do anything.

I am sure I've annoyed many a person with my constant Facebook posts on running- sorry. But I've also had so many people tell me how inspired they are every time they see me running. And that is what I hope to pass on in writing this all down. Hope. Whatever we are facing, whatever mountain we have to climb, whatever 'marathon' we have to complete- you can do it.

"It takes courage to do it, to be a runner. We all found that out a long time ago," he said. "Because it's about more than fatigue. It's about pain, and dealing with it for a long time. And it's about resolve." -Again to Carthage