I ran 20 miles today.. which should explain why it’s 9:30 and I’m in bed about to fall asleep.

I snapped this picture on my run, which I felt was appropriate:

“A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” ~Confucius

What Confucius neglects to add is that after mile 15 you will hurt, and once you finish your journey, you’ll hurt worse.

I completed it in 3:43, which is a little bit slower than my normal pace, but I don’t mind. I mean really, I ran 20 freaking miles.

And this lady ran the first 9 with me. And I think I talked her poor ear off. I’m all about making my life and the lives of others miserable. Just ask her. She started hating me around mile 4. Hey, I’ve done my entire training by myself!

I finished my run with a small can of Ginger Ale and most of a Clif Bar to prevent post-run nausea. Although nausea would be a nice addition to aching joints and a stiff back…

And when I got home I found Dave with a large cheese pizza and had consumed 4 pieces before I even realized that I was eating. Oh, training. I can’t even enjoy food anymore. It’s gone before I even know what it is. I sure hope it was cheese pizza and not pepperoni!

Then, because running for over 3 hours isn’t torture enough, I took an ice bath. I screamed for the entire 3 minutes that it took me to get into it. Dave took a picture which he insisted needed to end up on the blog, thanks Dave. Note: I am in a bathing suit, you just can’t see it.

And to make sure that my husband shared in my misery (or repayment for the picture?). I made him massage my butt and legs, which he tells me were like popsicles. I wouldn’t know. I was numb from the waist down.

What’s funny about it all is that I loved it. I feel so proud of myself and can’t wait to go run that marathon. I am constantly amazed at what my body is capable of (when my mind lets it do its thing).

It’s a torture to run 20 miles, but it’s a huge accomplishment. I didn’t regret the first step that began my journey, and I didn’t regret a single step along the way. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Well, once I can feel my legs again.

Are there any tortuous activities that you do for the sake of something that you love? Where do you draw the line between “worth it” and “insanity”?

Post Scriptum: Don’t forget that April is Donate Life Month