The Oatmeal hosts the Beat the Blerch marathon every year. If you’re familiar with the work of The Oatmeal and its humor, then you might have an idea of the kind of race Beat the Blerch is.

Something we all relate to in a race

The “blerch” is the kind of inner critic that many of us are familiar with. It’s the voice that lures us to eat cake instead of vegetables, to take it easy when we should put in more effort, and to give up when keep going would serve us best. The blerch is portrayed as a white blob-like figure with wings and follows you like a shadow while filling your head with negative thoughts; hence, why this race is called “Beat the Blerch.”

In the race, the aid stations have cake and Nutella sandwiches. (They are not vegan; I checked.) The white costumed blerches shout insults at runners or lure them to sit on the couches at the aid stations—all in good fun, of course. They try and convince you to have more cake, because after all, a runner needs their energy and rest. It’s that kind of race.

…Where are we going?

While the race was loads of fun, the course could have been marked better. Within the first five minutes of starting, we marathoners became confused on where the course led. We encountered a dead end, turned around and eventually found our way back.

At around Mile 15, a volunteer told me where the turnaround arrow would be, but I never saw it. I kept going straight, keeping my eyes peeled. Eventually, the trail narrowed to the point where the vegetation made it impassable. So, I turned around. Soon I passed the arrow (rendered in chalk!) where I should have turned around in the first place. The stampede of runners before me had faded it, so that is why I had missed it.

Past Mile 21, there was another fork in the trail, but it still wasn’t clear where to turn. I ran straight again for another mile before wondering where everyone was. You could imagine my vexation when I realized my mistake. Time to turn around again.

The heat wasn’t something many of us were used to either, despite how much water we drank. At Mile 24, there was an aid station. I drank my water, and the kind volunteer refilled my cup. I thanked him and told him he’s an angel.

“Yes, I know,” was his cheeky reply. I love it.

I finished the marathon at 5:02:35, one of my slowest times yet. Getting lost for three miles slowed my time by about half an hour. Instead of the standard 26.2 miles, I ran 29 miles that day. (Technically, that is an ultramarathon distance.) I have never run that far in my entire life.

The biggest prize past the finish line

But I’m still happy that I did it. What really made everything worth it in the end were the cutest kittens past the finish line. Holding a kitten while soaring on an endorphin high put me on Cloud 9.

Post-marathon self-care

I ate a ton of vegan Ethiopian food when I got home, followed by dropping a Lush bath bomb into a tub of water. When you run more than what you’re supposed to, spoiling yourself is justified.

While the race could have had better signage, this is one I’ll do again in the future. It could have gone more smoothly, but that itself could be symbolic on how I handled my own “blerches” in my head. For now, I can rest on the fact that I ran 29 miles in one day.