I did it. I finished the Los Angeles Marathon and have never felt so good.

Although, it should be said that it wasn’t always this way. The first thirteen miles were freaking great. I went through them like a champ and was completely unstoppable. Then Mile 15 came around and my legs started to cramp. Then a blister started to develop on the arch of my right foot. Then I began to excrete large amounts of salt and my body shut down. At Mile 18 I thought I was going to die and truly believed I couldn’t finish.

But I quickly reminded myself that I’m not a quitter and set up little goals to make it through the run. “Okay, if I can make it to Mile 20, I’ll have six miles left. Okay, if I can make it to Mile 23, I’ll only have three miles left," and so on and so on. Finally, I ended up on Flower St. and could see the end. As I crossed the finish line and they placed the medal over my neck, I felt less joy and more like I was going to collapse.

And I didn’t feel great the next day or the day after because my body was so sore and swollen that it hurt to stand, nevertheless walk. I knew I completed a feat and should be elated, but I was in too much physical pain to enjoy anything. However, as the days passed and people congratulated me on the race, the happiness trickled in and quickly filled me up.

Holy shit, I finished the Los Angeles Marathon. I rule!

Even though I’m proud that I ran that far, I don’t think I could have made it without the never-ending support on the sidelines. The people cheering you on are undoubtedly the best part of the marathon. They make you feel like you can do anything, even run 26.2 miles. It feels so good to have absolute strangers motivate you, especially when you’ve hit the wall and are at your mental and physical lowest.

In the end, I’d encourage anyone to run in the marathon. Hell, even a half! You end up gaining so much more than you ever put in and it feels amazing. Life should always be this way.

Photo by Sarah Ardalani for LAist