Worst weather since 2007: torrential rain and 30mph headwinds. Coldest weather since 1970: lows of 38F. I was soaked under my poncho before I even hit the start line and couldn’t feel my feet for the first some odd miles.

And it was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. I play it over and over in my head: the sudden downpours every time I thought I was “comfortably” soggy; the drenched volunteers and spectators who never stopped cheering; the glee of seeing my family and friends and getting powered up by hugs.

Hitting the half, hitting the 20, seeing the family at 22 and then flying. I felt surprisingly good: a few twinges, some discomfort, but nothing that stayed with me. I didn’t really feel the hills, I was surprised; maybe it was delirium. I did give myself a minute or two to walk one of the Newton Hills, but was afraid to give myself too much leeway, in case my legs stopped working.

Then, the last 4 miles – I felt like I was flying. I was laughing in final deluge I’d run through, and crying, hearing and seeing the ecstatic, roaring spectators. I couldn’t believe how good I felt, how strong my body felt. My body and I have a tenuous, contentious relationship, so for us to be working in tandem, to be allowed to let go and just fly – I cried and ran with all my heart.

Right on Hereford, over the street I couldn’t see what with all the discarded plastic ponchos; left on Boylston, and the finish line that was so much farther away than I thought it would be. It felt like the crowd was there just for me.

I ran the last mile in 8 minutes and 7 seconds. I negative split the marathon, running the second half almost 11 minutes faster than the first. And despite the rain and the cold, I beat my time goal of 4h 30m, finishing with a time of 4:26:22 and a 10:10 average mile.

I couldn’t have done this without the amazing support of my family and friends. To everyone who listened to me last summer when I crazily declared I was going to do this; to everyone who gave me advice about long runs and fueling and bad weather dressing; to everyone who listened to me ramble on about running and training; to everyone who donated to my fundraiser to get me to Monday; to everyone who supported me and believed in me and turned up in the pouring rain to cheer me on – THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. 💙💛💙💛

I’d be remiss if I didn’t put forth a special thanks to two amazing people:

To Coach Don, who trains the Tufts Marathon Team with the most amazing dedication and love, waking up at 3am to post mile markers and make PB&Js. I wouldn’t have even had the opportunity to run if Coach hadn’t fought for me, reclaiming a bib that should have been forfeit after a TMT member dropped out in January. So, Coach, thank you for thinking of me, keeping me in mind and fighting so hard to get me on the team and getting me through my training.

And to my most amazing Benjamin, who let me run the marathon on our SECOND WEDDING ANNIVERSARY; who never once doubted that I could do this; who started running miles with me, despite his hate of running; who was always there to carry me up or down stairs after long runs, or drop me off at early runs or pick me up when I couldn’t run all the way home, or take care of prepping for parties or dinners or cleaning up because I couldn’t move; who never wavered in his love or support or encouragement or belief in me – you are the most amazing person in the world, and I would never have done this without you. I love you so much.