My husband is a stud. There I said it. What now, you ask? Oh nothing really…he just completed a marathon this weekend!!!!
If you had asked me during the train up (you know- all those Saturdays when Andrew was gone for 2-4 hours at a time on long runs) if I was a fan of “the marathon,” I would have given you this answer: No. But on Sunday morning, I found a new and very great appreciation for people who put their minds and bodies through the exertion of a marathon. Watching each runner cross the finish line- exhausted but elated, broken but so high- was nothing short of awe inspiring.
And then I saw my husband cross with his two fellow paratroopers, and I about burst into a thousand pieces of proud. I was screaming at the top of my lungs. I was waving my sign high. Tears welled in the corners of my eyes. I watched him shake the hand of his brigade commander, then find us in the crowd. “I am so proud of you,” I told him as I threw my arms around him. “It was harder than I thought it would be,” he said. I kissed his salty lips and smiled.
My husband ran 26.2 miles. The Tobacco Road Marathon. The bar has been set.
The farthest I’ve ever run is 5K. What is your greatest distance? Are you a marathon maniac?