Marathon day

It's Portland Marathon day.  Not that I was planning to run, I don't know whether I will do one again or not.  I like to think that sometime I'll do another.  Today, though, I am sitting with the ipad tracking three friends running, me from the relative comfort of my bed.  I'm deciding whether I can tolerate swallowing some Tylenol (why do they make Tylenols so large?) along with the pill I already took for nausea.  This seems to be the hard week, three days after treatment to a week or week and a half after that.  There is nothing to do, really, but tolerate it, and go outside for a bit at some point.

I am wishing I had done a bunch of marathons prior to this.  One was amazing, and kind of like childbirth, it teaches a person to get through the seemingly impossible to the other side.  Triathlons are somewhat like this, though because of the variety, not always quite as mentally taxing.   However, having only done up to the Olympic distance, I am well aware that the half Ironman and beyond would certainly provide that sense of clawing through the impossible.  Once the time passes about three hours, for me anyway, all bets are off as far as feeling sane during any of it.  The focusing is such a good excercise.  I wish those experiences were translating a little bit better to this one I am having now.  I guess when this winter/spring is behind me, I may be looking for a sense of the impossible again sometime.  There is something sooooooo satisfying about completion of these bizarre challenges, and without the disgustingness of it being about cancer I think any and all of it will be immensely fun.  You know, in that suffering fun way...

I am going to get out of bed and go for a run.  I have been intending this for the last couple of hours, so hopefully I am actually about to act.