So I guess I ran a marathon!

Everything I'd ever heard about running marathons was about the wall you'd hit at Mile 21. About the blood and tears, the pain and the cursing.

So I was in disbelief at the Med-City Marathon on Sunday, when my only tears were from laughing and the only time I doubled over was with the giggles. Dubbed the "party pack" by the water stop volunteers, our mobile party of 12 goo-gel- and endorphin-high runners whooped, told sex stories, heckled volunteers, and cheered on other runners for 26.2 miles. Part of our giddiness came from the success we were having with a new running strategy. Since it was a training marathon, we wanted to take it easy, and decided to try out 6-and-1s (stopping every six minutes for a one-minute walk) instead of 10-and-1s (once every 10 minutes). The rumor around the run club is that running guru Galloway said that 6-and-1s are really the way to do a marathon, but no one we knew had tried it.

We were stopping every six minutes to walk (crazy!) and running at a slower pace than we usually do, but it soon became clear we were maintaining a 4:30 pace (my goal time for the real marathon). Sure enough, we crossed the finish line at 4:32! Chatting, laughing, and hooting up to the end.

Afterward, wearing our medals and chugging Gatorade, we all stood there, sort of stunned, emotionally detached since this wasn't our real marathon. But proud nonetheless, and knowing that we had been part of something amazing.

Then we split for our respective hotel rooms to lay around in ice.

I've embarked on an intense (and ice-filled) rehab regimen to get these legs back in shape to do it again in three weeks.

And this time, I'm pushing it 'til we get to blood and tears.