Here I am having finished Chicago a few months later. 26.2 miles. Wrapped in mylar, whooping it up with my child. My medal visible, my timing device still on my sneaker (I sorry I don't have a better photo on my computer.)
That's not to say that I did everything right. I mean, I also slapped a lot of hands held out to me in Chicago (what a fabulous town for a marathon!) and then wiped my nose right afterwards. But you're not really thinking about good health habits when you're running long distance.
In shorter trial races, did I pass people? Sure. But when you're a faster runner, you don't generally start with the walkers at in the back. You just know where to position yourself.
Those were good times. My joints can't handle it now. But boy, it was fun. And it was also local. Other than flying to Chicago to run in a (thank God, flat!) marathon, I never drove more than 15 miles from my home for a race. Never had to. Never would have crossed my mind to. Unless I had some ulterior motive. Or a burning desire to see the Iowa countryside. Just sayin'.
Keep the open thread going. I love our conversations!