I’ve spent the last week attempting to process having finished my marathon but there are still times when I think to myself, ‘Did that really just happen?’. After working so hard for so long, it’s incredibly weird that it’s over and even stranger to think about the fact that I’m no longer training for my first marathon, but that I’m actually a marathoner.

Looking back on my time in Victoria — the race and the recovery — I know I did my best to try to slow down and take it all in as everyone advised but it still seems like it went by in a blur. For me the trip was not only about the race, but it was also the first holiday I’ve taken since January. Time goes quickly while revelling in a much-needed break from work, Calgary, and quite frankly, from blogging.

Before I knew it my vacation was over, my plane was landing at the Calgary Airport and I was heading right back to work on Oct. 15. Since then I’ve been playing the catch-up game at the office and at home (I had a lot of really gross running clothes to wash). Getting back to the monotony of every day life without the race to look forward to has been a bit of a painful grind.

Our coaches warned us about the post-marathon blues and although I didn’t think I would experience that, I have certainly felt a little low this week. It has been especially hard to lace back up my running shoes and get out on the trail. The days are getting short, night comes early and finding the motivation to head out for even a quick run has been giving me flashbacks to kilometre 35.

It doesn’t exactly help that for the last week and a half I’ve eaten anything and everything that has come within reach of my greasy fingers. Burgers, fries, milkshakes, chips … have all disappeared before my eyes. The Blerch has caught up with me big time, but I have no regrets.

Today I sat down with the intention of writing about my race, but sometimes the brain and the heart have different plans. It’s not easy to put the most insane, most painful but most satisfying thing you’ve every done into words and I want to do it justice.

Until I can do that, I will just be over here watching Netflix, humming along to the sad trombone of the post-race blues.