Half marathons are one of those things that are either a major life accomplishment, or just another semi-long run one does before biking 50 miles and then swimming for an hour, depending on how athletically insane you are. For me, such a race was at top of my bucket list, along with tasting every flavor of cheesecake at the Cheesecake Factory and ordering dessert first at a restaurant.

Can you tell I like both running and eating anything with sugar?

In high school, I was one of those low-key runners who ran sprints for the track team and occasionally did a couple miles or so before (you guessed it) going home and binging on whatever form of sweets I could find in my fridge. It wasn’t until college that I found myself a workout buddy and decided that I was going to get serious about running. We found a half marathon, signed up, and paid, so that we couldn’t be tempted to quit, and trained for a solid couple months before race day finally arrived.

While running, everything was sort of a hazy, oh-my-God-I’m-going-to-die-and-didn’t-write-my-will-yet blur, but now, having survived the ordeal, I realize that my whole race, and half marathons in general, can be defined by ten distinct phases:

1. You’re actually excited to begin while waiting at the start line.

13.1 miles? That’s pretty much the same distance as walking from dorms to the Corner and back, like, six times, right? That’s not too bad, you can totally do that!

2. You almost don’t feel the first mile, so you get irrationally optimistic.

There are hundreds of people surrounding you, all high on adrenaline and all still with enough energy to laugh and smile and make you forget you’re even running. You’re passing people left and right, feeling great; this’ll be a breeze, maybe you’ll even do a cool down jog afterwards.

3. But then the pain-blocking adrenaline runs out, fast.

Suddenly you’re only on mile three, and your legs are starting to protest. 10 miles left? And you actually thought you could keep a 7:30 pace? Oh God, what did you sign up for?

4. You start doing mental math to make yourself feel better.

Okay, so if you just got to mile six, that means in a couple minutes you’ll be halfway done, which means it’ll pretty much be mile seven, and after that is eight, and then the rest will basically be in the home stretch. Which means you can do it… right?

5. You slip into a numb, mechanical rhythm.

Can’t talk, can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t feel anything. All you know is your legs are just automatically moving back and forth. Did you pass a water station a minute ago? Who knows. Your memory hasn’t been this foggy since that Halloween pregame you went too hard at.

6. You make it over the 10 mile hump and think everything might actually be alright.

Okay, okay. Everyone says once you get to 10 miles, the rest goes by fast. You’re in the double digits, you’re almost there. You can make it.

7. AND THEN THE BIGGEST HILL EVER COMES OUT OF NOWHERE.

If you could speak without sounding like a dying, beached whale, you would have some passionate things to say to whoever was evil enough to plan the race course to include Mount Everest halfway through mile 11.

8. So you have to start reciting the Nike motto to yourself over and over.

If you gave up now, you’d have to walk in shame all the way to the finish line. You’ve made it this far, you’ve almost earned the right to put that 13.1 sticker on your laptop. Please, just do it.

9. The strange surge of energy you began the race with comes back!

You pass the marker for mile 13 and suddenly, you feel yourself speed up. The little voice inside your head begging you to stop shuts up, the pain melts away, and you see the finish line appear on the horizon. Start sprinting; you’re so close!

10. YOU FINISH.

YOU DID IT! Praise the Lord—there’s water, food, and no more movement. Half of you believes you could keep going and just do a full marathon, and the other half is just trying not to die and vowing to never run ever again. But you finished! It’s all really over!

Maybe I was just tragically unprepared for my own race (even though I swear I trained religiously for months) and am suffering from way more PTSD than I should be, but I’m fairly confident that these 10 stages of running must occur to at least a couple other half marathoners. In the end, though, crossing that finish line is a huge accomplishment that not many people can do, and you should be incredibly proud of yourself. Plus, you just earned major bragging rights. Go rock that laptop sticker.