The marathon ended nearly two months ago, and I still have not finished this post. Writing about it has felt harder than those last tortuous miles. Not that I *need* to write about it. There’s no assignment to complete, no deadline to meet. But I guess the same can be said of running. They are both something I enjoy, even when the steps and words plod and slog along.
I also write to record, because memories tend to slide off my Teflon brain.  Without journals, family, friends, and colleagues to fill in the blanks, my past would feel like grocery store shelves before a major weather event.
But why write about this event? For me, the marathon was not a Big Deal. With a solid résumé of moderately impressive physical feats (such as riding a mountain bike nearly 100 miles loaded with camping gear on a hot summer day with the Midwest version of Montezuma’s revenge), I have approached the distance with a mixture of confidence and respect. Confidence that I can handle the distance due to mental tenacity and baseline/latent fitness. Respect for those who train intensely to meet ambitious time goals, as well as those for whom simply crossing the finish line, or even just lining up at the start, is, indeed, a Big Deal.
I want to write about the marathon because it:
1) yielded some funny stories
2) kicked my butt and schooled me, big time
3) made me want to approach next year’s marathon as my own Big Deal
4) might be of interest to others considering the race, cough, Clare, Megan, Jessica, and Joe
Well, it is time for bed, and I am just going to post this, without a picture or even much of a point. At least I am at the starting line. (Only took me about a year to finally write about it!)
 Does Teflon date me as a child of the Reagan era? Do people use that as a reference point anymore?