A very bad race indeed

I've been avoiding writing this post for the past two days because I didn't want to have to put into words what a loser I feel like, but alas the time has come to face the music.  My yoga teacher in Thailand said once that nobody ever learned anything from being comfortable, and that is most definitely the theme of this marathon: discomfort...and hopefully some learning.

As you can see, I hobbled across the finish line at a staggeringly slow 5:30 time.  I looked around as a few pity filled cheers brought me in and noticed that the race volunteers were breaking down the finish line party.  Yes, as in packing it up for the day...I was that slow. 

Here's how it went:

-Wake up at 3:55 am to be at the start by 5:30 (why they wanted us there an hour and a half before start time is beyond me.  One of my least favorite things is the pre race wait around and this time it felt like an eternity)
- Start running at 7:00 and feel pretty good until about mile 13 which makes sense considering my training.  I was totally prepared for a half marathon and not a full marathon)
-I did manage to push myself gingerly along to mile 15, where I saw Chris Brophy who so kindly came out to support us.  We ran together for the next mile or so.  Feeling good again.
-Mile 17, I see Jason on his way back from the out and back.  He's walking.  "My IT band" he says dejectedly.  I persevere on.
-Mile 18...Must stop and stretch. Hard to start running again.  I walk as the 4:45 and 5:00 pace groups jog past me.  Damn it. I start running again.
-Mile 20, I eat a pickle at the aid station.  Feeling good again.
-Mile 20.5, Must stop again.  This time it is bad.  My legs are so tight.  I am really far behind now.  I walk until I see Chris Brophy again at Mile 22.  Pep talk ensues.
-Mile 22, I run again.  "Damn this trail"  I shout as I leave the Tobacco Trail and head down some boring Cary road heading toward the finish.
-Miles 23-25  This literally feels like an eternity.  Cary moms and Jersey transplants drive past me.  I curse them.  I'm slow.  Like really slow.  Like, am I walking or running or just shuffling?
- Mile 26  The next .2 will be hell and it is.
-I cross the finish line at a painful 5:30:58.  Shame.

Here's the learning part:  1) At least I finished.  I didn't drop out as I had fantasized about doing many times during the race. 2) I did more that day than most people do on an average Sunday. 3) This failure will make me more hungry for success the next time (yes, there will be a next time) 4) I learned that I need to train for real next time.  I will not just get by on my past running experience.

I think that can be applied to life as well.