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Ok...so this really happened to me, and I can't believe I am about to tell all of you. Here goes.....

In late 2003, I decided, on a whim to walk to the WDW Half Marathon in January 2004. Suddenly, everywhere I went, I was calculated 13.1 miles. That's how far the mall is...the movie theater...my favorite restaurant...etc. Now, before you think...wow...good for you...let me tell you some important facts about me at the time - I was 32 years old. I was/still am not a very active person. My idea of exercise was walking from the parking lot at work to my desk. I was/am overweight. I am stubborn. Now...everyone around me (except me) was concerned about my new found psychotic plan to walk this marathon. My mother was concerned about a heart attack. My friends were concerned that I didn't seem to give much thought to actually training. How hard can it really be? Thirteen miles. In 3.5 hours? No sweat. In fact, I went out once...in October...and walked 6 miles in 2 hours. I have to admit...I was feeling like Jane Fonda! (Of course, that was before I tried to get out of bed the next morning). I never went walking again.

So...fast forward to January 2004. I travel to Disney with 8 of my friends and supporters. I've been to all the right stores...bought the right sneakers...the perfect bra...socks that discouraged blisters. Yep...I was a true athlete...dressed in the very best of athletic wear. The first day in Orlando, it is approximately 40 degrees. You would think that I would lay low, considering I have to be awake at 1:30am to get on a bus to Epcot's parking lot, where I will have to stand until we move to the start gate for the 6am start. No....not me. I went to Universal Islands of Adventure. Walked all day. Then went to the Marathon Pasta Dinner...did my carb loading! What a %#%#*!!.

At 1:30, the alarm goes off and my room mate and I get dressed, put on our Mickey ears, and prepare to take on the world! (or at least the maze of Disney roads). We are transported to the Epcot parking lot, where we are dropped off with the thousands of other marathoners in the FREEZING COLD. The temperature was in the mid-20's and the wind was whipping around the parking lot. By 5am, I couldn't feel my legs - which of course, I had outfitted in short walking pants, cropped socks and sneakers. In order to warm up and prepare for the walk, I stupidly ate a wheat bagel with peanut butter (which I LOATHE). My reasoning was that it was a source of good protein. Well it was...but it laid the groundwork for what came next.

It's 6am and we are off. The first mile is going pretty well. I mean, most people can walk a mile without too much discomfort. Then...oh no....I'm at about 1.5 miles and it hits me. A stomach problem (to be discreet). Seems as if the peanut butter was a worse idea than I thought! WELL...we have a major problem. You see, at the WDW marathon, there are porta-potties set up along the walk route....EVERY TWO MILES APART. Have you ever had to go RIGHT NOW? Well...I did. And I was half a mile away from any type of "facility". Somehow...I made it. Phew. Disaster averted. I did what I needed to do and set out on my way for my other 11 miles. But, oh no...now, I'm at 2.5 miles, and the stomach cramps are starting again...only this time...with nausea to boot! I start downing crackers, water, gatorade, anything I can get my hands on to try to settle this mess, cause I have 1.5 miles to go before I can get to another porta-potty. And, I am no athlete...running...walking really fast...out of the question. So, God reaches down from heaven and somehow helps me along to mile 4 where thankfully there is another row of portapotties! But what to do....throw up? Sit down? Throw up? Sit down? I couldn't figure out what I needed to do first. I quickly decided to sit down....so I frantically pull down my pants and proceed to THROW UP DOWN MY PANTS. Oh yes...down my pants, not on my pants...but IN my underwear.

So here I am....mile 4....isolated from the world on WDW roads...at the end of the pack of walkers....being taunted by the guy in the Mickey hat on the bike who isn't supposed to pass you or you get pulled out....and I have puked down my pants. What can I do? There isn't a sink. No place to wash up. Just cheap Disney toilet paper in a second rate porta john. So, of course, I did what every self respecting woman in my situation would do...I pulled my pants up and kept walking!

I kept going. Nothing was gonna hold me back from achieving my goals. I made it to mile 9 before severe dehydration forced me to pass out cold and be transported to the medical tent. I woke up 20 minutes later...stripped to my underwear (ick) and wrapped in aluminum foil like a HUGE baked potato. My best friend entered the medical tent and I took one look at him and started crying. Let's just say it wasn't my best or most attractive moment. I still have a piece of the foil.

To conclude, I finished 9 miles out of 13.1 with no training whatsoever. However, I pulled a groin muscle, was severly dehydrated, had stress fractures in both feet and couldn't walk for a few days after (so much for my Disney vacation). But, I must say...none of that compared to the chafing that is caused by walking 5 miles with puke in your underwear.

The moral of the story is that I am registered to try the half marathon again in January 2009. Two of my friends will be walking with me. I am already walking several times a week to build up my endurance and will definitely pay more attention to "how to train". But, this story is my Disney classic and I hope that you are able to laugh at it as much I as I can. (Now)