When I was 16 year old, I completed my first marathon with my dad. We decided to participate after one of my dad’s coworkers, who also is an avid runner, raved about them — go figure.

We barely trained until the last month or so, and at that point, we realized we were in over our heads.

The only reason I think we continued to train was because there were people who said we shouldn't do it because we were too out of shape. And when I am told I can't do something, you best be damn sure I am going to finish what I started.

We both completed 26.2 miles in Long Beach, California, and swore we would never do that ever again.

Now, four and a half years later, the memory of the pain and suffering that is associated with such tortuous activity has worn off and I have started training again, seriously this time, for another one.

I have recently changed my lifestyle, and I wanted to find a goal that would keep me on the right track.

While I am physically and emotionally gearing up for another marathon in May 2017, I have been trying to think back to what was going through my mind during those long 26.2 miles.

So I decided to compile a play-by-play of what goes through one’s mind when running a marathon to help me prep for Doomsday.

Mile 1

It’s cold, early in the morning, you’re stiff and you are surrounded by actual runners. It is so intimidating, and I personally was scared shitless. All that was going through my mind was how stupid we were for doing this.

Mile 2-13

The first half honestly feels like a breeze. I jogged most of the 13 miles, even as a non-runner. You simply find your pace and your tempo. You start focusing on the people surrounding you. I, myself, made up stories about everyone in my head to keep my mind off of the running. I also would see these super-skinny runners, so opposite of me, and would fantasize what I would order them at a fast food place (I think I would be a really good weight-gain trainer). All in all, I felt pretty good about myself, even while those amazon runners zoomed right past me.

Mile 14

For some reason, right when I hit the halfway mark, it went down hill from there. I don’t know why, but I felt like I had to walk more, which made my legs fatigued and mind games less helpful. Honestly, all I kept thinking was, "this was such a huge mistake."

Mile 15-19

A this point, quitting seems like a really good option. But, Like I mentioned before, it doesn’t matter how little to no experience I have with anything, if there are people who don’t think I am capable, you’re damn sure I am going to finish that Mo-Fo.

Mile 20-21

I cannot tell you how pleasantly surprised I was when I reached the 20 mile mark. Seeing that 20 mile sign made me believe there really was an end to the madness. When you reach the 20’s, you start to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I remember chugging my orange-flavored power goo and feeling confident that I would finish.

Mile 23

The silver lining is gone, and you want to crawl in a hole and die. Literally.

Mile 24

When you see a golf cart drive past you to pick up the injured and over-heated, it takes all the will you have to not hop on and say, "peace out, bitches."

Mile 25

OK, so no judgement here please, but I CRIED. Sobbing actually. I contribute it to fatigue, but also to the realization that I had no business whatsoever being a 16-year old girl who had only run probably 10 times in her life and was now participating in a marathon. I vividly remember crying while jogging/flailing down the street when a man in a golf cart slowed down and drove beside me for a bit yelling, “you got this baby girl!” Looking back, I appreciate the encouragement, but at the moment, I just wanted to punch him in the face.

Mile 26

This was the last mile, and also seemed like the longest mile. Honestly, it felt like it would never end. But as I rounded the corner, I saw a rainbow of balloons and people clapping. Not many people were left because I finished in the last hour, but nonetheless, I finished. I remember being handed my medal and being so annoyed and hungry, I don't think I appreciated the moment like I should have. I was so delirious from hunger and exhaustion that it hadn't sunk in on what a huge deal it really was to finish the whole damn thing.

It was a great experience, and to say that I completed a marathon at 16 years old is something I will always have.

More than that, it was a good few months that my dad and I got to bond over. We went on runs together, we participated in the marathon together, and after the fact, we both commiserated in our pain together.

Now as I am getting ready for my marathon up in Santa Cruz, I am trying to be as prepared both physically and mentally as possible. I now know what I need to do and I know what I am going to go through.

It is not an easy task to accomplish, and it takes literal blood, sweat and tears to finish, but I feel like the more I prepare and have it as a set goal for myself, the prouder I will be once I cross that finish line.

To be honest, I will still probably end up wanting to punch someone in the face though.