Obviously, Sunday was a pretty eventful day for me. Time to break it all down. I don't expect to include everything, but I'll try. Besides-- if I forget it now, it's a post at some point down the line.

The morning started at 4:05 when the alarm went off. For breakfast-- cup and a half of coffee, a bagel and some Gatorade. We got out of the house about 5:30 for the drive into Birmingham. It's pretty amazing the time you can make when you hit a few traffic lights. Well, that and the fact there was no traffic.

I'll stop for a moment to tell you what a wonderful person my wife is. She got up and drove into town with me and had the prospect of not much to do for a long while. She's also been so supportive of my marathon effort and all the training that went into it. I can't thank her enough.

We got into the neighborhood a little before 6:30, so there was time to find a lucky parking spot, get my bag checked and hunt for a bathroom that didn't have a line. The search started inside the auditorium but wound up in line for the porta-hooters. I made it into the starting corral with about five minutes to spare. Uniform of the day: two layers on top, long-sleeved top, shirt sleeves underneath and arm warmers comprising the second layer. Band-aids were also deployed on my nipples. Below the belt, my standard running tights and wind pants. And Body Glide. I had some ankle-high black Feetures socks and my Brooks Adrenaline GTS 12 shoes with sof-sole inserts.

There was such an incredible vibe at the start-- it took a few minutes to get to the actual start (chip timing), so there was a chance to soak it up a little. A chance to think about the end of over 12 weeks of training and all the work I put in. To think about what I was about to do. It was pretty heavy.

My first goal was to finish. This is what my friends all told me I should focus on first. Second, break four hours. Thirdly, I hoped to do 3:49 or better. You'll find out how I did soon enough.

The first few miles were uneventful. There were lots of half-marathoners (about five times as many as marathoners), so traffic was pretty dense for a long time. I also took Powerade at several stops, which was a logistical hassle, what with traffic and spilled liquid freezing on the roads on a 20-something degree morning.

I was feeling pretty good for a long time, not wanting to go out too fast. Thanking police officers (I saw a lot of this all morning) and bantering a little. I tried to stay slow in the early going, but my half-mile splits had me below 9:30 pace after mile five. This was not according to plan, since I wanted to go out a little slower. It was hard to hear my watch to see my splits, due to the quantity of people, and also because I heard so many Garmin watches beeping, I couldn't tell which was mine. I wanted to keep it slow until about mile 8 or 9. So I went out too fast.

The first pee stop happened at about mile 9.5, and I caught a break, as I had just passed it by and saw a door open. That notwithstanding, Every half-mile split was below 4:30 from 8.5 through 14.5. The first batch of hills did not really impress me. They should have, as I would pay later.

So I felt pretty good for most of the back stretch on the first half. It was a bit of a dagger to see mile markers for 22-23-24-25, though, knowing so much work was ahead.

The last drink stop of the first half had gummi bears, and I couldn't say no, especially to a nine year-old girl. So I tried to take a handful on the run, but only got two. The 13.1 split was just over two hours. Slower than I wanted, since I thought 1:55 would be nice, and help with a negative split. I found the First Lady and gave her a quick kiss and started the rest of the race.

There was a two-minute potty stop at mile 15, but we kept after it. I felt bad for the person who dropped their sunglasses on the deck in there. I left them be.

My half-mile splits started to slow not long after-- 4:42, 4:52, 4:38 and 4:49. The walking started not long after. I just couldn't run anymore. Most of the walking was in the hilly 18-23 area-- the neighborhood I disrespected earlier. I had a granola bar at 18, and decorum went out the window, eating with my mouth open and all, but I needed food since my bagel was long gone. But after a while, it was easier to run, since it was too painful to start running from a walk.

There were several walk breaks, the last at about mile 24, at which time I heard what sounded like a herd of buffalo. Turned out to be the 4:15 pace group. That did it. I stepped on what was left of my accelerator and took off. That, and it started to hit me-- what I was about to accomplish. It's funny what smelling the finish line will do. Three of my last four splits were below 9:30 per mile, so that's telling in a few different ways. There was a group of about eight or nine girls all holding motivational signs at about 25.5-- helpful on the first trip around, absolutely critical on the way in. It's where the "pain is temporary..." quote comes from.

Also toward the very end, I turned my race number toward the front. I had mine on a belt and ran with it on my hip most of the way, but I swung it around and tucked my shirt in just in case. Turned out to be a good tactic, since they announced my name as I headed toward the finish. I had run for the previous mile and a half, but I managed a few flexes/poses for the crowd. I wasn't quite so sore right then.

Then I crossed the finish line. 26.2 miles. 4:12:35 of my life. Someone hung a finisher's medal around my neck, and I set about trying to find the wife amongst the crowd. This is when I realized how sore I was. I had to keep walking-- I couldn't stop or sit down or anything. The restart would've been disastrous. The medal didn't weigh anything at this point. After about 20 minutes, the First Lady appeared-- the only person with whom I wanted to share this. I was so happy to see her. It was only after I discovered the value of oranges that I felt like my legs would someday be normal again. We sat on some steps in the park for a bit, until I started shaking from the cold and from the exertion. This was the cue to go to get my bag and change into some dry clothes and get fed.

So that's the marathon story. There are a lot of things I still want to share about the rest of my day, like the words of encouragement and congratulations from my Facebook friends, signs I saw, the volunteers giving their time and the people sitting in their yard encouraging us on a cold and early morning (some of whom had coffee, others something stronger-- I was jealous on both counts). It meant a whole lot and I'll try to get that point across.