I ran the Los Angeles Marathon today.

My legs are sore. Sitting down hurts. My chest is chafed up and appears like I have a weird sun burn. My waistline is worse thanks to my running pants and the iFitness fuel belt I wore low on my waist. I screamed the moment hot water hit my wounds in the shower. My ankles are bandaged up hiding the few cuts on each. And I have a crazy appetite but little desire to eat. Food upsets my tummy. I’m sleepy, but when I tried to sleep all the caffeine in my system kept me up.

But I’m happy. Elated, really.

I ran a marathon. I ran it soaked from head to toe. I ran in an intense storm, the kind we rarely get in LA (think 2 inches in some parts and floods in others). I ran smart paces (sorta). I ran happy, smiling, interacting with spectators, and cheering on my fellow runners. And I met my goals. Namely, finishing and clocking in at 4:30 or less. I’m happy with my 4:23:56 finish, a 10:04 pace.

I’ll be back with more on hanging out at Dodger Stadium at dawn, running in a crazy storm, bloody ankles, the cool SRLA student carrying a Mexican flag, those “smart” paces, my favorite signs, splits (for my fellow running nerds), my new found love for GU Roctane, admiration for spectators and volunteers braving the rain, the great support and signs from my family and Sean, the final few miles I ran choking back tears, finishing strong (!), post-race family reunion and subsequent misery (I was cold and wet, y’all, I think I was on the verge of hypothermia), and recovery.