The author's Gasparilla Marathon 2009

Wikipedia describes a marathon as "a long-distance foot race with an official distance of 42,195 kilometers (26 miles, 385 yards, or exactly 26 7/32 miles) that is usually a road race."

I would describe it as 26.2 miles of sheer determination, dedication, and a touch of insanity.

The marathon is not something everyone has on their bucket list. It's not for everyone. Some people have other goals and aspirations, but for me it always seemed like a really cool thing to do. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that I would become one of those crazy runner types. You know the ones who get up at the buttcrack of dawn and head out for a 10, 14, 18 or even 20 mile run? You know the ones who run five or six days a week? What exactly makes those people do it?

I started my quest to the marathon in 2008 when I added the words "run a marathon" to my list of things to do before I turned 30. I was 28 at the time, had no "running friends", no idea of how to train for one, and absolutely the worst case of procrastination known to man. To give you a glimpse of my over all health, I was a typical gym goer. I'd run about three to five miles a few days a week, eat and drink too much on the weekends and come Monday it was all about repentance. I wasn't really out of shape, but I wasn't even ready for a 10K, let alone a marathon.

I registered for the 2009 Walt Disney World Marathon about a year before. I began serious training about 8 weeks out (NOTE: Terrible idea). See? My procrastination knows no bounds. Luckily, I found a running group in Brandon and they helped me along. They also told me I was nuts and shouldn't do a marathon on such little training. Being a stubborn person, I did it anyway.

My longest run before Disney was 18 miles. It was not enough. I made it to mile 18 of the Disney Marathon and felt my entire body start fighting against me. By mile 20 I was run-walking. By mile 21 I was run-walking-cursing. By mile 22 I thought I had lost my mind because my legs hurt so badly. By miles 23 and 24 I wanted to quit. Sheer determination and stubbornness kept me going. I almost flipped the bird to a spectator who cheered to me, "You're almost there!", at mile 25. The last 1.2 miles were brutal, both mentally and physically. I kept thinking, "well you can scratch this off the list and never do it again."

But then something happened.