I get to call myself a marathoner again, for a little while.

Well, I'm done. I'm...uh...a little overwhelmed and don't know what to say right now. I'll post a real race report tomorrow. I will say that I put in a very good effort in the last 1.2 miles primarily so I could catch and beat my arch-nemesis: Larry the Lighthouse. Larry the GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING Lighthouse!! I've written about him before, how he always seems to be magically ahead of me towards the end of these long races and how I often try my damnedest - and fail - to catch him. Beaten by a running lighthouse. Could there be anything more humiliating?

Well, NOT TODAY! For the last five miles, I'd catch up to him, get outpaced, rinse, repeat. But finally, as we made the turn from Columbus Circle to enter the park, I passed Larry. And realized that if I could just hold on and keep jogging to the finish - a mere 500 yards up the hill - that I'd actually beat the fucker, for once. AND I DID. (Of course, I found him after the finish and thanked him for pulling me along.)

Between passing him and finishing, I had only two thoughts, both of which were a little overwhelming: 1) "Wow, this may be just my hometown race, but I'm about to finish the world-famous New York City Marathon!" and 2) I really, really, really, really, really, really, really want a Guinness right now.

And so, after getting home, ice-bath, hot shower, and popping blisters, I am sitting here wrapping up this entry and enjoying my Guinness. And in a few minutes, I'm going to an after-party at Mr. Dennehy's for Team Boomer. Woo-hoo! More Guinness!