Today I ran a marathon.

I am so very tired. And so very humbled. And so very inspired and grateful and overwhelmed (still, even now, many hours later.). My shins are splinting. My left toenail is seriously angry and will secede from the toe union (sandal season is over = blessing). My ankles are swollen (Is this normal?). Both of them. My time did not break any records, but it was faster than I anticipated. I thought I'd come in around 5:30. But instead, I squeaked in under 5. (4:58:23) I felt joyful and positive. I felt strong. Powerful even. (Achey, for sure. My feet were really under duress the last 10 miles.) But, I never hit the wall. I NEVER HIT THE WALL! Amazing. I was really worried about that wall. I walked through most of the water stations, but not all, and those were the only times I walked (which should tell you what a slow runner I am). I am immensely shocked at and proud of this.

But these are just the details. It was such an enormous experience. Overwhelming. Spiritual. Humbling. Inspiring. Everything. I don't know how to sum this up, but I would very much like to.

Today I ran a marathon, a kinda sorta totally foolish endeavor for someone like me--an aging basketball player with a digestive disease who is better built for log-hauling (I am very sturdy for slow, plodding power-hauls.  I would work well on a farm. Not quite so sturdy for quick prancing pony parades.).

I am writing this while my husband rubs my legs, so I'll start there--with a man who will rub my legs and stand around waiting to hand me granola bars and take my picture as I jog by. He is phenomenal; I am blessed; and that's super cool. I need to remember this when he puts my favorite coffee mug in the bowl cabinet where I can't find it. (Priorities, P. Priorities!)

My parents are such wonderful people and so very good at being parents. I don't know how else to say that. When I stop and take stock of my life, I feel so overwhelmed and so PROFOUNDLY undeserving in so many ways. How should one person have so much? What do I do to earn this? I have so much paying forward to do. So much. My parents made a sign. They smiled and cheered and high fived and encouraged and "So proud of you'd" and fed. They fed me. They fed me french fries and a chicken parmesan sandwich, which was exactly and precisely what I craved for my belly. I love my parents.

And friends! Oh, my friends! Encouragement from afar, encouragement from the street corner. Amazing. Becky in her cute hat with super-dog, Charlie. Sarah running barefoot in her church clothes to talk and support and keep company! Tim with gummy bears. Katie and Jane (9 months pregnant. Hello!) with a sign and snacks and total awesomeness. I am constantly reminded of my serious gaps in friendship skills. No, really, I mean that. I have very serious and embarrassing gaps. I know this about myself. My friend, Cassie, had a baby 4 months ago, and I still haven't sent her gift (I do not have an explanation for this. I also haven't mailed Julie's, who was born around the same time.), and yet she sends me a gift certificate to a spa. A spa! Again, I feel so tiny. I am a student. I'm so sorry I'm such a slow learner. I am a friendship kindergartner.

Strangers, too. That's overwhelming. Beautiful kind people who have no idea who I am who point and smile and say, "Looking good, 628! Keep it up!" They handed me kleenex (genius!) and water and gatorade and jelly beans. I have never said "Thank you" so much in my entire life. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. A billion times, I must have said it. So many generous people! How could I ever be a pessimist or believe the world is nothing but greed and destruction? It isn't! Oh, it so isn't. Goodness everywhere, if you're willing to fling yourself into it (or plod slowly but certainly through it). The world is so bright and kind and loving today. I want to remember this when I walk through the gloomy stuff.

I want to remember all of this, really. I don't want this to just be that thing I did on October Whenever and thought was cool and then forgot about. I want to apply this. It seems like I'm supposed to. Why else would a person torture herself for months and months only to check it off a list and never revisit?

The finish line was some kind of amazing. I really do not have words for that. None at all. Parents at mile 25. Katie and Jane at 25.4. Chris and my dog, Kaya, at 26. Walls of cheering strangers clanging bells and cheering and clapping. The announcer calling my name. Medal. Pictures. Snacks. Congratulations from people I didn't know. Fatigue and Joy and Pride and Teeny Itty Bitty Cosmic Tininess.

I think the marathon reminded me I am cosmically small but capable of incredible might. I'd say that's worth a toenail.