Marathons suck.

...again, written yesterday and not posted until today...so actually two weeks from now I'll be home from school, limping around, sporting my Boston shirt...anyway, I plan to blog lots between now and April 16th...let the two week countdown begin! Oh, and btw - I let Mike title the blog...this next will be his 6th Boston and 13th marathon and he's feeling a bit cranky toward the distance:)

Boston is two weeks from today. Actually, two weeks from this very moment I should be (assuming all goes according to plan) headed home, all cramped up in the car becoming increasingly stiffer and sorer by the minute. Ah yes, nothing screams "reward" for those months of hard work and dedication quite like the inability to sit on a toilet seat, inability to pull on your own pant leg, six hour drive home, throbbing headache, loss of appetite, and intestinal distress that so often accompany the finish of a marathon. Congratulations, here's a medal and a little silver blanket, your family should be somewhere about a mile that way sweetie, now you go on and find 'em.

It's funny why we do what we do. During our last Boston long run yesterday morning, Chuck and Emily and I were composing a pre-marathon motivational speech. All we could come up with was "what the hell is wrong with you all", "welcome all of you who have also obviously lost it", "warning, this is going to suck a lot", as well as a few tips on controlling your bodily functions. Three runners with nearly 30 marathons combined completed and this is all the motivation we have to offer. And yet, there we were, pounding out one last 24 miler before our next marathon adventure.

It's that punch drunk long run conversation, and so many others like it, that make up a huge part of the reward - the why in doing it. Boston won't actually happen for another two weeks, but I've already reaped the vast majority of the rewards. The long runs, the post run coffee, the french toast and waffles, the bonding, the joking, the lost socks, the angry Sunday morning drivers encountered and then giggled about. No matter how many times it's done, the feeling of accomplishment after running 20 miles or more on a weekend morning never becomes any less satisfying, and there's no better sound than the clomp clomping of numerous sets of feet all setting out on a long run together.

And so, in some small way, the big to-do has already passed. The long runs are banked, the last post run breakfast was shared, and all that's left is tapering, overpriced adidas garb, large crowds, and THE 26.2. Don't get me wrong - what's left of the experience is enjoyable. There will still be bonding, still be group meals, still be more to giggle about, and no other long run offers the screaming tunnel of love at mile 12 like the girls of Wellesley College in Boston does. It's exciting, but I've come to realize that it's not the prize, and definitely not the point. The prize is being able to come home to start the whole process over again, and knowing great and crazy people to share the process with.