a Drunken zombie.

I walked to the volunteers passing out medals and got my Marathon medal.  Mind you, I'm still crying.  Mind you, I can barely walk.  I made it to the medic tent, and asked for ice. I sat down, crying. The sweet lady asked me, "are you in pain?" I explain to her that while yes, I am in pain, I am crying from joy.  She wrapped me in ice, and I am pretty sure she was worried about me, "are you alone?" I explained my husband was with me.

I grabbed some Tylenol from the medic, and slowly, crept to get a Mylar blanket.  It was cold now in Orlando.  I needed a wheelchair.  Now that my body was slowing down, I was getting stiff.  I felt like I was loosing toenails and the bottom of my foot felt like it was bleeding.  And again, I had to pee. I got my Goofy Challenge medal and then my Dopey medal.  That part was blocked off for visitors, but I wish Brandon could have been there and seen me get them.

I climbed into a porta potty, and then as soon as I got out I knew I had to take off my shoes.  I took them off, and then stood there, looking at my shoes.  I couldn't bend over to get them.  I stood there for about 5 minutes pondering how I would get them.  I picked one shoe up with my foot and manuevered my body to grab it.  I did the same with the other foot.

The scene behind the scenes looked like a scene from The Walking Dead.  People were walking like zombies.  We were all zombies.  Barefoot, I zombie walk to Brandon.  I sat and ate my goody box and relished in the fact that I had just completed 48.6.

I crawled back to the line to get on our bus.  Barefoot.  One man made a comment that I was going to ruin my socks.  I didn't care.

We load the bus.  I'm still lethargic and oblivious as to what's going on around me.  I felt and looked like I had just birthed a baby.  I wondered why there were garbage bags in each seat.

And then, I realized.  The lady in front of me stars to puke. Puke starts running down the aisles of the seats.

"Pick your feet up, Ashley.  Pick your feet up. "

Brandon was spazzing that I was about to get vomit on my socks.  I was half dead and didn't care about a little vomit.  I almost peed my pants, I could step in a little vomit. Plus, I couldn't lift my legs.

I had to pee again. The bus ride took forever.  I was stiff.  I was hurting.

We finally made it to our hotel.  And I have to attempt to crawl out of the bus.  By then, I couldn't walk and had to pee SO bad. I couldn't move. I was walking like a cross between a zombie and a penguin.

I was almost in tears. I was about to pee all over myself.

"Brandon, I'm going to pee on myself," I say in tears.
"You better not!" He's yelling at me at this point.
"We will throw away your pants if you do," he threatens me.

I waddled my way back to our room, and needless to say was able to keep my pants that day.

I was in more pain than I was after labor. I was pathetic.  I took my socks off to find all my toenails still in tact, but a horrible road rash on the top of my feet.  I was chafed in various places.  I remember sitting almost in tears on the side of the tub with ice water and ice.

Again, I was pathetic.  I was almost like a drunk person, you know that annoying kind that's needy and crying? That was me.

"Brandon, I don't ever want to do that again.  Never ever."  I moaned and groaned.

I showered, napped for an hour, and then I crawled my way to eat some lunch and make my way to the Magic Kingdom.

Pain or not, I had to enjoy my last night.