Today was attempt number two at running 19 miles. I succeeded, more or less. I tried for the first time last weekend, but a combination of factors forced me to admit defeat after only 12. First off, I was totally exhausted from sleeping only two hours a night during finals week. To make matters worse, it was HOT, which we didn’t realize, and we didn’t bring nearly enough water. I was totally dehydrated after 10 miles. Finally, I just didn’t seem to have it mentally.

This time was better, except that now I know what it feels like to hit the wall. At about 17 miles, I just didn’t have anything left. The last four miles were just downright painful and consisted of a combination of running and walking. Don’t tell me I’m not a true runner because I didn’t run the whole way. Trust me, I was happy just to keep moving my legs. Actually, I take that back. I was not at all happy to keep moving my legs. It hurt so freaking bad to move my legs. I was anything but happy. At least the weather cooperated–mid-50s and partly cloudy–so we had that going for us.

Once again, I’m really doubting the feasibility of actually finishing the marathon. Today’s run killed me. I really don’t have a strong desire to run 26.2 miles anymore. I’ve begun to think that running a marathon may be a one time event.