Cape Cod Marathon: Views, Wind, and Split Lips (and I didn't throw up on myself or poop in my pants)

Post race: no one fainted or pooped in their pants or threw up. We all finished. In other words, the marathon was a resounding success.

I'm one of those people that are easily convinced to do things. Like run marathons, blow money on things they shouldn't, travel at the drop of a hat, get another cocktail, and bake something sweet and eat way too much of it. So when Jill said, "I'm running these three races. Want to run one with me?" and the Cape Cod Marathon fit, of course I said yes.

Jill was hosting a party the day before, so I prepared for the marathon by drinking mimosas and eating lots of delicious things. I slept a good deal, and we head over to the start in Falmouth, which was pretty low-key.

I was hungry at the start, and was looking for water to take a pre-race gel with. Someone told me it was at the front and then after I had looked around a bunch, someone else told me it was in the back. No time. Booo. I started, holding a gel, looking forward for the first water stop...which was in 2.5 miles. Water was every 2.5 miles or so. Boooo.

But the course was good. Hilly, yes. But oh-so-gorgeous. Really pretty. The ocean, the houses, the lighthouse. As Wayne said the day before, "Super f-ing quaint." Indeed.

After around 2 miles or so, someone came up behind me and began touching my face. I had no idea what was going on, and smacked the person away....and it was Stephen. Apparently I accidentally split his lip, and he said, "I deserve it. You don't startle a girl from Brooklyn during a marathon." It was a little strange to have someone touching my face from behind.

Stephen and I ran the rest of the race together - we talked about Burning Man, work, relationships, running, friends, the desert, lots of stuff. We suffered together, and enjoyed things.

My stomach was pretty wrecked. I didn't have pre-race bathroom success, so the last part of the race, I was in agony. As we came into the finish, I thought I was going to throw up all over myself, which would've made for a fantastic finishing photo - right?? But I didn't.

We finished, 3:55. Far from what I wanted. But considering I'm still dealing with that foot soreness issue (The bottoms of my feet are swollen, ow.) and my stomach was in agony, I guess it was okay. I need to do more speed workouts so I can kill it in a marathon, someday.

Post race, I shivered under Mylar and talked to runners. Then we drove back to Jill's house where we drank delicious alcohol and talked about everything until it was pretty evident I should have left hours earlier - which really wasn't a bad thing after all, as sometimes, fun takes priority.