The night before the California International Marathon (CIM), I laid wide awake with a mix of childhood excitement and adult anxiety. I visualized my race strategy. I gave myself pep talks. I reflected on my training.

I started training for CIM at the beginning of August and it culminated with a 4 a.m. alarm on Sunday, Dec. 2.

When I got dropped off at the shuttle bus. along with four friends, around 5:15 a.m., I was running on 5 hours of sleep (if I’m being generous), a pre-race meal, coffee, and adrenaline.

For a number of reasons, our bus didn’t make it to the starting line until 6:30 a.m. The race started at 7 a.m.! My planned mile warm-up turned into a run to the winding porta-potty line, a run to gear check and a shuffle toward the starting corrals as the national anthem blared.

I was so grateful to be surrounded by friends during this chaotic start. If I had to wait in the long bus line and suffer through a confused shuttle bus driver all alone, my nerves would’ve been skyrocketing.

It wasn’t the calmest starting line experience, but once I slapped my foot on the plastic starting line, everything clicked into place. I was here, doing the thing! I was ready to take on the next 26.2 miles.

Running in the California International Marathon

The week prior, my coach Kristen and I met to plan my race strategy. I was to run the first five miles at an easy pace, kick it up a notch and then really dig in at the halfway mark.

I mentally felt like I executed the plan but physically (and given my splits) I kept an even pace through the entire event.

Around mile 6, Bon Jovi’s Livin’ on a Prayer was pumping through the streets. I laughed out loud. I was nowhere near halfway there. Regardless, I soaked up the music and the energy of the crowd and it pushed me up a hill with a smile on my face.

When I approached the halfway mark, I felt more tired than I’d expected. Miles 14, 15 and 16 were a mental struggle. Ack, it’s too early for this! I haven’t even hit the mileage of my first long training run!

I started thinking about why I was running and who helped me get here. My mind bounced from Kyler giving my legs painful nightly massages, to Kristen encouraging me to tune into and trust my body, to Jason’s persistence about one-legged squats, to my family tracking me on their phones to when I’d see Kyler next on the course. I wanted to be smiling when he saw me. I wanted to look strong because, despite the fatigue, I felt strong.

I ran for the younger me that believed she didn’t have athletic talent. I ran because it’s when I feel the most confident. I ran for those I wanted to make proud. I kept running and pushing because I felt so alive.

Despite the struggle of those three miles, my pace stayed steady. 7:36. 7:42. 7:36 minutes per mile. It’s crazy to me that those miles mentally and physically hurt the most, but my pace remained consistent.

I attribute that to sticking to Kristen’s training plan and knowing what my race pace should feel like in my body.

Around mile 18, I approached a trio that was going about my pace. Having people to chase kept me going for the next 4 miles.

I’d planned to kick it in gear at mile 20, but my body had a different idea. I was so ready mentally to get after it, but my legs would not move faster. And then it hit me. Every stride beyond the 20-mile marker was the longest I’d ever run in my life. I’m actually doing it! Excitement and adrenaline took over.

Again, I thought, okay for the last 5K I’ll really step it up. But, nope. I saw 6:00 min/mile flash on my watch a few times, but overall those last 3.1 miles were consistent with how I’d run the previous 23.1.

But I kept pushing. I did all that training so I’d be ready to hurt on race day.

Gliding around the last corner and seeing the suspended digital clock was a dream come true (and I’m not trying to be trite). I’d visualized those numbers for weeks. I charged toward the finish line, passing others as runners I went.

As soon as I stopped running, all the fibers in my legs started shaking. Okay good, I thought, I did push myself.

Then happiness, joy, gratitude, the biggest smile.

I. DID. IT.

I was smiling at everyone and thanking all the volunteers I passed. When I was reunited with my friends, we high-fived, we gave sweaty hugs and we couldn’t stop laughing at each other hobbling around.

I’m grateful to have shared this experience with Kyler and badass friends. It’s a gift to have a group of people who believe in your current abilities, but also encourage you to find your personal best.

Although I didn’t hit my planned race pace, I know I gave everything I had that day. Well…maybe I had a bit more. But I finished strong versus on the verge of collapse. That tastes victorious and powerful.

Challenging? Without a doubt. Worth it? Absolutely. Will I do another one? Definitely. I’m hungry to break a 3:20 marathon time.

I’ve been getting a lot of questions about the numbers. So here are some stats: