42,2 KM=26 miles=tired

Dear Diary,

Yesterday I ran my first marathon. It was in Marseille, a really pretty Mediterranean city.

It took five hours, about 5 liters of water, 3 oranges and 2 bananas on the way, a lot of cheering from nice Southern people, and a crippling fear of disappointing myself even bigger than the fear of actually crippling myself for life. I did think about it. Will I be a cripple for life? And then I thought that this could not happen to me. Or maybe it has. I can't walk at all. I have the strangest gait.

Four things gleaned from yesterday:

-Buy magic anti-rubbing creme! The ad said "great to prevent bleeding nipples" and you have to admit no one wants bleeding nipples. Except if they were weird desserts from France, where we can enjoy the "Nigger in his Shirt" and other non-PC delicacies. Even so, bleeding nipples!

-Become friends with innocent bystanders. I jumped on the mild-mannered person having breakfast next to me, and he squired me to the marathon start, helped me during the race and was ADORABLE.

-Eat like an ox the week before. Fun and useful!

-Forget music for running, my podcasts on mental disorders worked fine.

I feel terrible and a bit silly, I HOPE I WILL SOON BE PROUD AND BOAST OF A FIVE-HOUR MARATHON.

I just did, though.

Marathon plans

I want to go to Iceland this August to run my first marathon.
I want to see Reykjavik and the beautiful landscapes. I can't wait!

I think I know what my birthday present is going to be.

I am quite obsessed with running. I offer this story as proof. I'm going through a quarter-life crisis at the moment, what with the red hair and the short skirts, and I've decided I needed to get my navel pierced, although 23 is a bit old for such shenanigans and no one I know would approve. Who cares, I thought, striding in my local Tattoo and Body Art shop.

"Hi, I'd like to get my navel pierced."
"OK, so this is what you should know...blah blah blah disclaimer, disclaimer...Oh, and no physical exercice for 4 weeks. Sweat is bad for healing."

"Four weeks! Really? But I can't not run for almost a month.I'm in the track team of my uni."

"Well, I'm sorry, but that's a fact. I had my nipples pierced and continued the American Football Training season, and let me show you some pictures..."

A few revolting pictures later, I left the shop dismayed. I used to hate people who were obsessed with sport. And now I can't stay on the couch for a month of Christmassing, even for my quarter-life crisis?

Anyway, anyone up for a trip to Iceland with me?