I've been waiting for my feelings to settle before posting, as they seem to be changing each day that passes after the marathon. But I don't want to wait so long that I forget the important things. (The fact that I'm not concise enough to make a top-ten list is bothersome to me, too, but all eleven points felt important enough to include). Above all, I am proud of myself. I set a goal--a very challenging one--and I met it. I didn't get injured. While I was hurting in many and varied ways throughout the process, I remained intact and stayed healthy until the very end. It was difficult. As much as I'd hoped I would feel happy and relaxed during the marathon, I didn't. It was a grueling race, and I struggled through most miles. I could have pushed harder. This is a tough thing to admit. I did take some walk breaks when pain/stiffness/nausea felt unbearable, and in retrospect, I think I could have pushed past that.  I abused the aid stations . I know this...

Okay, so it doesn't exactly conjure images of Dorothy prancing along the yellow-brick road in her pristine ruby slippers, but these are the true signs that I am back in training. In a way, I feel like I never came out of training in the first place. Not since September of last year. But what made it real to me was the blood spot on my sock from one foot and the blister on the fourth toe pad of my other foot after a week of higher-than-usual mileage. Ah, the joys of running. I had forgotten how the feet get battered from the constant pressure and pounding of long runs. Granted, the bloody toe was more a product of my over-grooming habits (i.e., I am a compulsive nail clipper), but there was something almost delightful about the sight of bright red blood on my white sock after I pulled off my running shoe. These are my battle wounds. I've earned them. And while they're uncomfortable, I can handle them. In fact, I have a bit of a fascination with blisters. I know the common ...