I FINISHED "THE ROCK"

I woke up the morning of August 7th, 2006, went to the weight room, lifted some weights, then ran three miles.

They were the first three miles of an eventual 466.2 miles I ran in preparation for the Whiterock Marathon in Dallas, TX on December 10th, 2006.

I crossed the finish line at approximately 11:28 AM that morning. Exhausted, disoriented and physically traumatized, I hardly remember having the "Finisher" medal placed over my head or walking past the multitudes of people to pick up my bag I had checked previously that morning.

Nearly four hours before that moment, I was standing at the Start line with about 3,500 other people. I didn't know what to expect during the race or how my body would respond. What I did know was that for 18 weeks I ate all the right food, got all the right sleep, took all the right supplements and thought all the right thoughts to prepare myself for the most grueling and physically challenging experience of my life. The marathon.

It's truly amazing to run a marathon. Thousands of people surround you that have the same goal in mind: finish the race. Finish the marathon.

Preparation is most likely different, but all in all, the runners have a great deal in common. It's kind of a bonding moment really. You get to talking with those around you about past experiences or how you're feeling and by the end, feel a strange attraction to those who've become so familiar to you over the course of the race. The marathon.

I remember a man with a green shirt on. It said "STAFF" on the back. I ran behind him for many miles, lost him somewhere in the middle but found him towards the end. Seeing that shirt brought me an odd sort of comfort that pulled me towards the finish line. The end of the marathon.

While I was running I tried to put myself back in my training. In other words I tried to imagine myself all alone on the country roads north of Abilene. During the marathon.

I spent many and will probably spend many more hours running alone, with nothing in my ears, just my thoughts to keep me company. All those hours were an amazing physical and emotional release. The marathon.

I ran as the sun broke through the lush, green horizon. I ran through miles and miles of open fields where cows gazed at me like they had never seen a human on their road before. Kind of a "what in the world is that guy up to" look. But I was noticed and gone before they had time to get spooked and run away. So they just sat and watched me run off into the distance. Towards the marathon.

I ran through town, I ran around a track, I ran on a treadmill, I ran in my neighborhood, I ran and ran and ran. All the running with one thing in mind: finish the marathon in 3.5 hours. Finish the marathon.

My Thanksgiving holiday was ruined because I could only eat a portion of the smorgasbord which was set out before me. For the marathon.

I ran in the heat. I ran when it turned cold. I ran in the rain. I ran when it hurt. I ran fast. I ran slow. I ran. For the marathon.

I will never forget my first marathon. I finished in 3:28:08. 328th out of 3,507 full marathoners that day.

A sense of accomplishment follows you through the finish line. One that is unique to a full marathon. I can't wait to have that feeling again. So beginning in August I will train again. Eating right. Sleeping good. Thinking. Running. Sweating. Hurting. Longing. For the marathon.