As I type these words, I can hardly believe it happened, and yet it did happen.

It happened, guys. I ran a marathon. Every step of the 26.2 mile-trek is now complete. It’s over.

From the moment I stood grinning in front of the route I’d soon be running…

…to the last steps I took before collapsing into bed last night, it was really an amazing experience.

In a way, I’m a bit let down after the excitement of it all. I’m also sore, in a lot of ways. But I’m also proud and happy and amazed in the best way ever.

I haven’t had time to really process everything that happened in those hours of such a strange combination of happiness and pain, of torture and bliss, but I know I’m starting to understand a little more fully why exactly this distance called out to me. And I’m sure that more of these bits and pieces will be revealed as my body heals enough to slowly venture back out to the pavement in my running shoes and I have those first post-marathon miles.

But in the meantime, I can’t stop smiling when I think back on how joyful and exuberant I felt as I crossed that finish line, fueled by the cheers of my family and friends who supported me every step of the way.

(Well, every step of the day during the race. I think there were several steps that my mom wasn’t feeling very supportive of when she first found out I had signed up for this.)

I can’t stop shaking my head in amazement as I think back to the many, many miles I ran during training and the many, many days of doubt I faced as I wondered if I could really make it the entire way. (Curious? It was more than 300 miles of training over the past 5 months!)

How sad is it that despite hours and hours and hours of training, I didn’t trust my own feet to get where my heart knew it wanted to go? Don’t get me wrong, I was pretty certain I could do it, but a small, pesky doubt remained in the back of my mind. Of course, when I stepped over the start line, all doubt and fears and nervous anticipation went out the window in favor of a goofy grin that made me  feel giddy with excitement.

That smile is pretty much still plastered across my face, although it seems to have been momentarily replaced by this look of confusion that I can’t recall right after the marathon. Anyone know what I was pointing at, below?

And now, when it’s over, I’m blown away by the amazing support of Wyatt, who after I told him about this goal, never doubted that I would see it through. He’s truly a rock for me, and seeing his face every four miles or so yesterday made all the difference.

Of course, I was also ecstatic to see the faces of my parents, Wyatt’s parents, my friends Jill, Liz, and Matt, and my sister and her husband along the way and at the finish line. In fact, I got to run mile 1 with Jill and her high-five and encouraging words at the turning point for the half marathoners and marathoners were repeated in my head more than a few times during the next stages of the race.

I’m thankful for your smiles and cheers. For your signs and silliness. For your willingness to get up early and drive around for several hours as you chased me around during the race.

I’m thankful for runner friends who have offered advice on shoes and water bottles. For the instructions on icing and foam rolling. For the insight into nutrition and hydration.

And I’m thankful for my legs, and my feet, and for a God who designed my body in its imperfectly perfect form to take me on this incredible journey. I know not everyone enjoys running (like Hubs, for instance), but for me, it’s about a love and an appreciation for a body that feels strongest when it’s moving forward, one step at a time.

It’s amazing to think that I have now completed something that can never be taken away from me. It’s like getting a college degree. Once a graduate, always a graduate. Once a marathoner, always a marathoner. Wowza.

I’m sure I’ve had and will have better days, defining days, and magnificent days. Days when the world seems too full of joy and magic to be real life. However, none of those days (engagement day, wedding day, day I realized I was a real writer, future children’s birth days) take away the significance of yesterday. Because the great thing about life, and running, is that it doesn’t have to be about competing. It’s about living. And doing. And being. And loving.

And yesterday was a day when I did all of those things.

No, I wasn’t fast, but I was a finisher. A marathoner.

Stay tuned for more home-related news and posts later. It’s been a busy week, and weekend, filled with a lot of loving life, but not a lot of loving on this home. We’ll get back to DIY stuff soon, though. And in the meantime, tell me what you did this weekend! Did you run a marathon? If so, that would be amazing, so please share!