Marathon Mania
I ran the St. George Marathon last weekend with my son and his wife. We had a fabulous time and it renewed my enthusiasm for marathons. Given that I am a mother of six I discovered there are quite a few similarities to having a baby and running a marathon.

The easiest part is making the decision. Once you have announced your decision you get encouragement from sources you never knew. People call with their advice. Strangers on the street stop you tell you their own personal stories. At socials the marathoners/mothers seem to gravitate to one another with testaments of glory,( i.e. personal bests/fastest labor), of horror, and in some cases of defeat.

The first few months your body adjusts to and complains about your decision. You are tired, cranky, nauseous, and downright miserable. As it gets used to your condition the symptoms ease.

The last few months time slows to a crawl. All you want is to just get it over with. Especially if this is your first, you feel a heightened sense of anticipation and worry. What if I don't make it? What if I give up? What if's abound.

Finally the day comes that you begin the big journey. Everyone begins with eager anticipation. You may have friends waiting at the finish line or have called family to alert them that the end is in sight. After training for nine months you begin at the starting line (or hospital.) Spirits are high and chit-chat is endless. This is so much fun! Jokes abound as does advice. Now don't go out too fast. Just breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. That's it! As time crawls on the conversation becomes slighly more tense.

At about the 18-20 mile mark you will hit what's called "TheWall" or in maternity terms "transition labor." Runners want to quit. Moms would if they could (or ask for an epidural.) This is the point where you sneer at your husband and tell him to "turn the stupid TV off" and you ask yourself "what was I thinking?" This is where my husband vowed to sleep in the bathtub for the rest of his life. (That was on our third) Husbands really toe the line at this point (mostly for their own preservation.) Runners become mute and deaf. The group effort is over.

Luckily,"the wall" gives way to a second wind and we move on to the actual birth or "run for the finish line." This is the best part of all, because the end is in sight (not literally in the maternal world) and the pain, surprisingly, is superceded by this surge of energy. The end is a dramatic climax of the last nine months and of your life. You experience ultimate joy, a high above all highs when they place your baby in your arms. Tears flow freely. This is where the one difference comes - the medallion around the neck simply cannot compare. However, I have never heard a mother OR runner say it wasn't worth it. Perhaps that's why I've done it six times. I just can't get enough.