There’s a joke that says:

“How can you tell if someone has run a marathon?”

“Don’t worry. They’ll tell you.”

Damn skippy they will! For the mere mortals among us—not the advanced runners who do MULTIPLE marathons—completing that marathon is more than a statement of physical strength; it’s a prime example of mind over matter. Am I proud that I put one foot in front of another for 26.2 miles? Heck, yes! Do I plan on ever doing it again? Heck, no.

When I signed up for the marathon, I was already recovering from plantar fasciitis and at least twenty pounds overweight from not exercising, a bad medication, and, well, eating too much. Through the course of training, I also discovered that my Vitamin D is in the basement and my iron is just this side of anemic. (It’s so low that I can’t give blood.) Then let’s add in the uterine ablation and dermatological procedure in November; those put a crimp in my training style. Oh, and the sinus infection I came down with 5 days before the race. To make a long story short—too late—I was a hot mess through all of my training. I made it through the actual race for three reasons: 1) sheer will power, 2) running it along with Ryan for when that will power faltered, and 3) all of the wonderful people who came to cheer me on. After all, I couldn’t possibly let them down.

As promised a couple of weeks ago when I was still biting my nails into the quick out of fear of running the marathon, I give you my top lessons learned. Remember, your mileage will vary. (Pun totally intended.)

1. You gotta train in the way you plan to race. I don’t think you have to practice getting up at three in the morning, but one of my biggest challenges was a constant hunger throughout the race. Usually, I have a heavy protein laden breakfast about an hour and half before I run. That wasn’t an option on race day because I was in a hotel and had to get up before anything opened. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you my stomach growled from mile six on.

2. You will hit a wall. Mine occurred in ESPN somewhere between mile 17 and mile 19. I cried. I actually cried. It’s quite possible that my tears were due in part to the aforementioned hunger because I go from hangry to weepy, but part of the problem was the sheer amount of time spent running along with the hunger in addition to the pain from the waist down. Also, I misunderstood and thought mile 20 was the entrance to the Studios, so I was crushed when I realized I had two or three more miles to go to make the point where I knew I wouldn’t be swept. So, study the course map. Also, I can’t imagine not running the marathon with a friend. Have someone with you. At times, they’ll help you along. At times, you’ll help them.

3. Those high fives are important. High fives from random strangers kept me going. The cheers of my friends gave me a boost and a half. Props especially to Kelly, who slapped my behind somewhere around mile 24—I didn’t see that coming, but I should have. You need someone to smack your booty. Or to bring you a beer around mile 25—here’s looking at you, Perls.

4. You can’t skimp on training. When I had my little mental breakdown, I kept thinking, “why are all these people doing so much better than I am? Why are they so nonchalant?” Well, they probably finished all of their training. I couldn’t run for at least a week after the ablation. At times, I had to keep my short runs too short because my heels were enflamed. My last long run was too close to the marathon because I was behind. Do all of your runs. Your short runs should get a little longer as you go along.

5. Don’t expect to lose weight just from marathon training. I’m sure it can be done, but I had trouble. On the days when you do a run of anything more than ten miles, your body gets hungry. If you can rein yourself in, then you’re doing better than I did. Of course, part of my weight problems could have been due to any of the medical maladies mentioned above, also. One oh-so-helpful man in the KT tape line informed me that he lost 40 pounds training for his first marathon and that continuing to run marathons had helped him keep that weight off. May the record show that I didn’t throttle him.

6. Marathoners need gear, and gear costs money. When you go out for a 5k or a 10k, you don’t need a lot. If you start running longer distances, you’re going to need fuel belts, foam rollers, some kind of food substance, Body Glide, and who knows what else. I love my KT tape. Anything more than 6 miles, and I need something to hold my poor knee caps in place. Also, you’re going to go through running shoes like crazy, especially if you have plantar fasciitis.

7. For your first marathon, I highly recommend Disney World. Look, things are going to happen. You’ll need a bathroom. You may figure out you can’t finish. Even if all is going well, you’ll want something to distract you as you race. Disney has all of these things. Frequent water/Powerade stops, port-a-potties and access to some of the park potties, entertainment, beer or margaritas on the last mile, places for your friends to cheer, etc. If you’re an elite runner, then I’m sure you don’t need a lot of those things, but, if you’re a first timer, you might want the safety net of Disney.

8. Recovery won’t be like you expect. Weirdly, it didn’t take that long to get over most of the aches and pains in my legs and feet. The tension in my shoulders took a little longer. Fatigue really set in for me about two days after the race, and my stomach still isn’t quite behaving. Oh, and your immune system is going to be Johnny-Mathis-weak-as-a-kitten-in-a-tree after such a grueling ordeal. All in all, as I write this on Monday, it’s been a week and a day since I ran the marathon, and I’m perfectly fine except for an encore presentation of the sinus infection I had before the marathon.

10. You’ll run yourself right out of excuses. Once you’ve run a marathon, there’s not a lot you can’t convince yourself to do. You’ll find yourself saying, “Well, if I could finish that damn marathon, then I know I can ___.” And that’s the best explanation I can give for why I ran one. I competed against myself, and I won more than I lost. Now I have an answer to that little snide voice of doubt when it questions my abilities: I survived that marathon so I know I can do this.

Running marathons aren’t for everyone, but I would encourage folks to find some kind of physical outlet. Pushing your body helps you to push your mind and vice-versa. One of my main goals is to be that fun grandma who plays with her grandkids, and this is why I run. Next up for 2016, it’ll be back to strength training and another attempt to lose these extra pounds. Maybe I’ll even compete in another triathlon—it’s gotta be easier than what I just did.

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You can always send me suggestions on Twitter, Facebook or through my website at SallyKilpatrick.com. Until we meet again, do at least one thing healthy—you deserve it!

– Sally Kilpatrick