They say the half-way mark in a marathon is somewhere between mile 20 and 22. I believe it. The morning dawned grey and misty, the skyscrapers of downtown Austin hidden behind the damp curtain. With the humidity at 88% and the temperature hovering in the mid-60’s it was going to prove challenging to stay cool and hydrated.

My goal was to break four hours. But as I turned south on Duval St for the final four miles, I was gassed. I had consumed all 42 ounces of electroyte in my bottles and doused myself with water at every aid station. But those four miles seemed like thirteen. I had fallen far off pace and was struggling to simply keep moving.

My legs were so dead it felt like I was running on tree stumps. The tops of my feet hurt and my thighs felt swollen. Fortunately those last miles are mostly downhill, until mile 25.5 that is. One of the steepest hills on the course is just 800 meters from the finish.

I was on the cusp of missing my time when two teammates fell in beside me as I gritted my way up the hill. They had finished the half marathon earlier and were now on a mission to get us over the hump. They were loud, in my face and I would have slugged them if I had the energy. Instead I just kept digging.

Finally at 26 miles I crested the final hill and with the last shot of adrenaline I kicked for the line. Then I was across in 3:58:58! I’ve never been so physically spent. The floodgates opened and I wept in the arms of the aid worker who guided me out of the finish chute. A finisher’s medal swinging from my neck, I reunited with the rest of my team as I exited the recovery area and the tears flowed again.

26.2 miles done. Tears of relief, tears of joy, tears of sadness… all at the same time. Kristi would have been proud of me today. We used to talk about me doing a marathon some day. Today was someday. I miss her dearly.