One week from Monday, I will lace up my shoes and take to the streets of Hopkinton, Mass., to run the Boston Marathon. It’ll be my first (and probably only) marathon of my life, and frankly, I’m a little scared.

I grew up watching the Boston Marathon. Each year, my family would pick a different spot on the 26.2-mile course and cheer for thousands of competitors we didn’t know.

My run is a personal challenge. Although I ran cross country in high school, I wanted the training to get into shape and to prove to myself I could do it. That’s why I don’t consider it a competition. My only goal is to run the whole way and to finish.

Whatever happens on Patriot’s Day, I’ve learned a lot these last 14 weeks about Syracuse and about myself.

I’ve been yelled at by passers-by and told I was stupid for wearing shorts in 30-degree weather. I’ve been amazed by the serenity of Syracuse University at 7 in the morning and shocked by how quickly it turns dark after 5 p.m.

I’ve been kicked off treadmills at Archbold Gymnasium for exceeding the 27-minute time limit. I’ve kicked others off for not signing up. I’ve learned you can run for an hour and half easily; you just have to sign in with two or three fake names.

I’ve grown to love Under Armour. I’ve become a champion spitter. I’ve discovered how painful a blister can be during an eight-mile run.

Originally, I planned to set a four-hour goal, but I’ve been told that’s not a good idea. My guide in training, ‘The Non-Runner’s Marathon Trainer,’ says not to set a time limit because there are unforeseen obstacles on the course, and you don’t want to disappoint yourself. My friend and Daily Orange staff writer Mike Potter ran the Disney World Marathon in January, and he advised the same. He finished in less than five hours but described the ‘hitting the wall’ experience as inevitable and devastating.

As the book states, ‘The sensation of hitting the wall is described as being total fatigue, exhaustion and inability to maintain the pace you had been running.’ It says it is commonly associated with the depletion of glycogen or carbohydrates in the active muscles and liver.

Whatever it is, I felt it last Friday during my final long training run. I am a little behind and was trying to squeeze my final 18-mile run in before the two-week rest period I am supposed to take. Anyway, as you may remember, it was a beautiful summer-like day, about 80 degrees, and I went out around noon. Ten miles in, I bonked.

My legs felt like lead pipes. When I slowed down my head spun, and every breath brought more nausea. I was dehydrated, and after a couple attempts to run through it, I gave up. I stopped and walked home to refuel.

Not the performance I was expecting after never hitting the wall as I finished 16 miles three times in the three previous weeks.

So on April 17 at about noon, I will begin the longest journey I’ve ever attempted on foot. And for the first time ever, I’m praying for a 55-degree, partly cloudy day.

Timothy Gorman is a design editor at The Daily Orange, where his columns appear weekly. E-mail him at tpgorman@gmail.com.

Published on April 3, 2006 at 12:00 pm