Me at the 40km mark in Central Park

Looking anything but sharp, but hey, fuck it. At this point all I was thinking of is making it under 4 hours. Half of the race went very well. Better than last year. "Ah awesome, 3.30 will be no problems", before I super choked and could barely even enjoy anything. I was just suffering and was only in pain. I even walked when I drank water at the end "Yeah I don't want to spill anything" (which you have done during the whole race until then). I also went to pee around the 30km mark and didn't want to go out. Just stay there and cry.

I had completely given up anything about everything. But the last two miles was sick. Realized I needed to pick it up and from nowhere I found the energy to do so. Last mile I seriously felt like Bolt. I was dashing. Sprinting like a maniac. (Time shows I wasn't tho but it felt like it). Was about to cry when I saw the "800m to go" and felt that was a short distance. "Finally". But when I reached the finish line - completely exhauested - it wasn't - it was the 400m mark. And clock showed 3:58 something. Biggest WTF of my life. So we had to carry on. And we did. Crossing it 3:59:30. Later to be adjusted to my personal time of 3:58:48. Sort of success. Today. 100% pain. But we did it. It hurts so good.