I DID IT! Oh my god I actually did it.

42.195 kilometers. 26.2 miles. On foot. Without a car. Or an ambulance. I crossed the line with a time of 5 hours, 40 minutes and change. I was just barely squeezed out of first place by a Kenyan runner in a photo finish that I plan to contest to the world governing body of marathons. His official time was 2 hours 8 minutes.

Actually, I finished something like 11,569th out of 15,187 entries. But still, not bad for a fat old guy. The key word in all this is FINISH. I ran a marathon! I ran a marathon. Now, when I say "I feel like I just ran a marathon", I can follow it up by saying "And believe me, I know what I'm talking about." That's gonna be so sweet. I can't wait to use it. lots.

So I'm back to work today, and I'm so jetlagged I can hardly see straight. 25 hours of travel each way has left me feeling like I just ran a marathon. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

(wait for it) . . . . . . .


And believe me, I know what I'm talking about!

Bada Bing!

I have lots of great pictures of the trip - I'll post a few tonight.

AND - I've made the draw for the big prize! As you may recall, I was going to buy something uniquely Italian and give it as a prize to one lucky person who pledged my campaign. I purchased a beautiful piece of original glass artwork from Murano, along with a nice bottle of Grappa, an Italian spirit. (Pictures of both forthcoming)

And the winner is -

Kathy McKale of Cold Lake! Thanks for the support Kathy, I'll deliver your gift soon.

All for now.

Gotta sit down and have a long nap. Already planning the next marathon.

The Fat Guy

9 days to departure. Holy CRAP.

I'm excited, freaked out, paranoid and nervous. I think I can do this, but . . .

Last Sunday I almost killed myself doing 32 km up and down hills. Didn't eat enough beforehand, didn't replenish enough during the run and almost passed out when I was done. Didn't even have enough energy to CHEW. Seriously. It took me 30 minutes to gum my way through half a sandwich. And my blood sugar absolutely skyrocketed, telling me that I bottomed-out somewhere along the way. Not good for a diabetic who knows better. Gotta do a better job next Sunday. Next Sunday. Next . . . Sunday . . . is the race. I still can't believe it came up on me this fast. Other than last Sunday, training has gone well. 23 km this past Saturday, no problems. Fastest 10km ever last Thursday. Friday - 6km up and down hills, felt strong. So, I start "tapering" this week. Shorter runs to keep fitness but build energy and avoid injury. I'm not even playing my weekly hockey game tonight or next Tuesday just in case. I'm absolutely paranoid about getting some stupid injury just before we go.

Last night I got an E-mail from Team Diabetes about the medical waiver from my doctor that the race officials MUST have to allow me into the race. Can you believe that it costs $100 to get my doctor to fill out a one-page questionnaire? He didn't charge me, though. Nice guy. Thanks Dr. Omand. Naturally, I faxed the form the same day straight to Rome. And of course the team had no record of it. Poof - gone. So they asked me to send a copy to them, and I (of course) couldn't FIND IT! No waiver - no race. 10 months of training and work down the drain . . . somebody STOLE IT! WHAT THE #$!!&***$%##!!!!!! SOMEBODY'S GONNA PAY FOR THIS! I'M GONNA BREAK - What? It's in my car? Oh. Sorry. Uh, I'll fax it right away.

That was last night - hopefully my last freak-out session before we leave. Departure time is 8AM from Edmonton, arrival time in Rome is 12:25 PM the next day. On the way we stop in Minneapolis and Amsterdam. I'm tired just thinking about it. Then, 45 hours later, I race.

I'll continue this story later. Gotta go.