They say a marathon is 26.2 grueling miles of running. That's not really true. It's really about 20 miles of pretty normal running followed by about 6 miles of increasingly difficult running. And it's not necessarily grueling because you're short on breath, it's more because your legs start to get really sore and cramp up.

The weather was perfect for running: about 15 degrees C and partly cloudy. There was music blaring from from speakers placed along the course and live music at several other locations consisting of drums, cowbell, and acoustic whistle. At least that's all I remember. I will now make my obligatory "More Cowbell" quip auf Deutsch. "Ich brauche mehr Kuhglock!". I should also point out that the acoustic whistle is a vastly underrated musical instrument and is a key ingredient in any successful boy band. Also among my musical highlights were "Walk Like an Egyptian" and "Eye of the Tiger." Nothing like a little Rocky music to keep you going…

I was feeling pretty good through the first 31km before my legs started to pain me. More than 2 and a half hours of running had taken its toll. It was then that I started countdown mode. Or rather tried to calculate how much time I had left. This created such complicated equations as: If a marathon is 42.2 km and I'm at 36 km running 5 min. km, how much time do I have left to run? This is the kind of thing I would think about for about 2 minutes before I would ultimately give up and decide to try again on the next kilometer marker. I did this for 3 or 4 consecutive kilometers before I figured it wasn't worth the energy I was expending trying to figure it out in my head. In case you're worried about my mathematical abilities, please note that the brain consumes loads of carbs to function, and well, my carbs were being used to run. I never was good at multitasking anyway.

Kilometer 39 was a gut check. My hamstrings started to cramp and I had to shorten my stride in order to keep the cramping at bay. Fortunately there was a water table set up at the 40K mark, which is just what I needed to kick through the final 2km. Well, kick isn't probably the best word, more like slug through the final 2k. Along the way I tried to encourage myself with such thoughts as "Only 5k to go", but these thoughts didn't actually help at all. Turns out there really isn't much that's motivating after running for 3+ hours.

The only thing that really motivated me that last 10k (besides some friends of mine cheering me on) was the 42km marker. As soon as I saw that I really did kick all the way through the finish. Once over the finish line I resisted the urge to sit or lie down, consumed large quantities of water, and met up with my friends before hobbling home.

All in all a good experience. Would I do it again? Maybe, but not anytime soon.

Schmerz is a very good word to know in German. It means pain. So if you are ever hurting, you can just say "Ich habe ein Schmerz" and point to where it hurts. Right now I could point to pretty much anywhere below my waist.

I am glad I had the foresight to take today off from school. Besides the fact that I am exhausted, I can barely walk from my bed to the bathroom to the couch today. I am dreading the staff appreciation dinner tonight for the sole reason that I will have to go up and down stairs.

The marathon was a good experience, I think. I'll write more about the marathon soon, when I regain better control of my physical and mental capacities. I will say that I finished just over 3.5 hours, maintaining my pace goal of 8 minute miles(5 min/km).

I am going to go soak my aching muscles now.

So it's the day before the big race, and I must admit I am a bit nervous. Missing a month of training due to injury right in the middle of my training program has me a bit apprehensive and frustrated. Apprehensive because I haven't gotten in as many long runs as I wanted and I pushed myself pretty hard coming off an injury, which usually isn't a good idea. And I'm definitely feeling it.  Frustrated because after 4 months of training I know that I won't be at my best. The gaping hole in my training program has opened a hole as wide in my confidence.

Some of this I know is just pre-race jitters that will shake off with the starting gun. The rush of the race will shift me into running gear and the battle will begin. The battle against my adrenaline and my instinct to start quickly. Setting and maintaining a steady pace aimed at my goal time. Trying to scale the wall, and wondering where exactly it is.

It'll be good to have Mike and Lance to pace with and some crowd of people from school cheering us on from the sidelines. It'll also be good to know that I have people praying for me and cheering me on back in the States.

Ready…Set…Go!