*If I can fully convey it via the interwebz
I've been putting off finishing this post for days. I started last Saturday night after my half marathon but didn't quite have the heart to finish it after the devastating events of Monday's Boston Marathon. As a runner, I feel violated, sad and angry. I feel like it was mostly fans that took the brunt of the explosions. My fans. I wasn't there running and those people weren't cheering for me but it takes loving someone very much to stand on the side of the road for several hours just to wait for a few moments of excitement where they can cheer their loved one(s) across the line. Runners (and their fans) are united by a bond. We know what other runners go through to train for the grueling miles of a race. We understand the time demands. We understand that there are times we'd rather be sitting on our butts watching reruns of Friends and eating Cheetos, but in the back of our minds we hear that long run calling our name saying, "If you don't get out there you'll regret it. You'll be walking across the finish line instead of running. You'll hurt for days after that race if you don't train." And so we kiss our spouses and children goodbye as we head out the door for a few hours.
This past Monday there were people running in the most prestigious race in America. Many for the first time. Many...not so much. But those people trained hard and had to qualify to run that race. They'd spent hours making sure they were prepared. Hours away from loved ones who would most likely rather have them at home than putting in the long miles. For many, they've vowed this will not be their last Boston Marathon. For some, the race they'd trained a lifetime for and didn't officially complete is something they'll never get to train for again.
I was planning on this being a rest week for me. I was going to focus on my new eating plan my trainer gave me and give my body time to recover but I couldn't just sit by idly and take advantage of the ability to run God so graciously blessed me with. So, I laced up my shoes Monday and Tuesday after work and put in 30 minutes of interval training each day. Both runs were 2.4 miles and I was hot, sweaty and tired but I reflected on the fact that there are some people in Boston hospitals right now that wish they could be running. I ran for them. I'll run for them again. In time, 04.15.13 will become a tragic memory but for now my heart is with the Boston Marathon runners who were stripped of their joy and love of the race on Monday.
I hope this post can fully express the real emotions I experienced during my race this past Saturday. Many people finish 5ks with little to no training. Some would say even a 10k requires little training. But you don't just wake up Friday morning and decide you'll tackle a half marathon Saturday morning. This experience will stick with me for a long time and I hope I encourage one of you to train for a half just to experience what it feels like to say, "I completed a half marathon!"
Six months. Six months I've been running. I've completed 5k training and rolled straight into half marathon training. I've officially completed three races as of today: The Azalea 10k (1:10:59), The Malawi 5k Challenge (31:48) and The Tyler Run for Autism (2:53:34). My next race will be the Susan G. Koman 5k May 11th. I don't typically run the Susan G. Koman because the majority of their donations go to pay administrative fees but my company pays for it and my running buddy is running so why the heck not?!? (I'll also be sporting pink knee socks and a tutu. Yes...you read that right. I won't type it again.)
Four months. Four months ago I began training for this crazy thought I had in November. The Tyler Run for Autism Half Marathon. Only 1.85 million people finished a half marathon last year (59% of those being women...whoop!). Today, I joined the ranks and tackled a feat that the majority of people have never and will never attempt but is also quickly becoming the hottest race distance to run.
For those unfamiliar with race distance terminology, a half marathon is 13.1 miles. Yes, you read that right, 13.1 miles. Interestingly enough, it sounds extremely daunting until you start training for it. Then again, a 5k (3.1 miles) used to sound daunting to me as well when I didn't run. The more I invested in training the easier and easier it seemed. And it might have been easier than it ultimately was if I had been able to fully complete my training plan. Thanks a lot you friggin' cold I had for two weeks. Not to mention I was extremely burnt out by the end of March. But all of the time, energy, frustration and sometimes pain was worth it. Even today's knee pain was worth it! Not unlike my thoughts about giving birth to my son naturally or breastfeeding for an entire year. Worth it!
So, if you are still here with me after months of me talking about boring running. Or heck, even after the intro to this post, grab a cup of coffee (or your preferred beverage of choice) and get ready to read a lengthy* recap of my half marathon experience.
*as in mile by mile
The infamous morning of April 13th in the two thousand and thirteenth year of our Lord dawned rather early for me. Well, the alarm actually went off much earlier than dawn. Much. Much earlier. It was 4:15a.m early to be exact and per my usual morning routine I hit the snooze button. I could have rolled out of bed and walked squinty-eyed to the bathroom to turn on the shower and start getting ready but what would be the fun in that? I longed to hear the nameless preacher on the random preaching station I had set my alarm to just one more time so that I could slowly come to my senses over the next nine minutes and let the fact that I was about to tackle 13.1 miles sink in. (When I originally picked the music station to lull me awake five days out of the week I thought I was picking the Christian music station. I apparently picked the preaching station because Monday through Friday I'm typically awakened to the sound of someone telling me to repent! Repent in the name of Jesus! Not that I don't need to start my day with Jesus. I had just hoped for something more of the musical persuasion. I apparently don't mind too much since I've yet to change the station over the past six months or so. Or I'm just lazy. I'll leave you to ponder that thought for a moment.)
I took a shower, which I typically don't do the morning of a race because what's the point in cleaning yourself only to get all nasty and sweaty a few hours later, but I needed the pick me up. I knew I would hence the alarm formerly known as 4:15 had changed to 4:24 for all intents and purposes. This wasn't some little three or six mile race looming ahead of me in the darkness. Literally. It's dark at 4:15 in the morning! This was 13.1 miles staring at me with it's beady, evil little eyes and cackling maniacally behind the azalea bushes in the downtown area of Tyler. (Half marathons have exceptional night vision and have an uncanny way of picking out and preying on first timers.)
I mentioned in my previous post that I planned on putting all of my gear in the car the night before so I wouldn't be scrambling around at the last minute trying to find it all as I rush out the door. Hahaha...haha...ha. It was, however, in a somewhat organized pile on the kitchen table and accounted for from the night before which turned out to be ok in the grand scheme of things.
I made myself a cup of coffee and slurped on it (quite literally) while I munched on a piece or organic honey wheat bread (not toasted for fear of waking my son this early by dragging out the toaster. I could have pulled the toaster out the night before but hind sight is 50/50.) made with natural peanut butter. By natural I mean nothing but ground up peanuts. I bought it from Fresh the afternoon before to eat for breakfast for light protein that was as natural as I could possibly get. My banana would be saved for the 45 minutes before the race. Facebook is surprisingly busy overnight and I felt the need to submit the obligatory "today's the big day" status update (which somehow ended up posting as a "me only" post meaning no one saw the damn thing...stupid waste of time Facebook! I need you to validate me! (Kidding!))
The clock ticked over to 5:15 and sent me into a miniature panic attack. I needed to leave in 15 minutes to make sure I got to the park by 6:15 for group pictures. I still needed to brush my teeth, blow dry my hair and get my junk in the car! Ahhh! What was I thinking getting on Facebook?! And only half of my coffee had been consumed. Dear God...the horror!!
Oh, It's 5:27 and I'm ready to leave? Oh..haha...ok. (I mentally smiled very innocently at myself here for being ridiculous.) I filled my water bottle, stared longingly at the half drank cup of coffee sitting at the computer staring at me with tear filled eyes as I said my goodbyes, did a quick mental check that I had everything I needed and headed out. It was getting real now. Pulling out on the highway meant I was just a little closer to the starting line.
The drive to the park was a blur. I sang loudly (as I always do) to keep my mind off of my impending doom and tried not to focus on the fact the roads were desolate. I don't blame everyone. I'd have still been in bed too on a normal Saturday morning. The park was pitch black when I pulled up. I almost second guessed the date. It look entirely too empty (and creepy) for a race starting in an hour. I sat in my car contemplating standing in the cold, damp darkness waiting on other team members to show up for this picture that, unless the photographer had a heavy duty flash or someone turned on the lights, wasn't happening at 6:15. And then I saw movement across the distance. Life! Bodies! Ok...the race is today. Whew.
I stepped out into the cold wishing I had warm up pants or something. Maybe even a light jacket. As I made my way across the park I could feel the settling morning dew collide with the exposed skin on my legs and for a moment I thought, "Wow...God is amazing. I can feel something so infinitesimally small and insignificant in my life caress and cool my skin. Thank you for this beautiful life and the ability to feel this moment and to recognize that I can feel this." Then I snapped out of it when I found the sidewalk and began looking for familiar faces.
None. There were a few other team members there but I only recognized them from the matching shirts. They obviously work in a different city and had driven in the night before for the race. The first picture was to be taken at 6:15 with our Women's Leadership Forum members but 6:15 rolled around and I was the only person at the ampitheatre. Besides...it was still dark. Not quite so pitch black as 4:15 or even 6:00 but not light enough to take pictures. So, I ran back to my car to get my banana. Between that time one person showed up but we were The Lone Ranger and Tonto in the photography world. (Not for our crime fighting abilities of course.) Around 6:20 or so it began to quickly and drastically get lighter and ah ha! The people arriving for the 6:30 picture were starting to gather. I selfishly kept thinking that if I had known pictures would turn out this way I'd have slept a little longer. Not that I was tired. I just like to sleep as late as possible. By this time familiar faces were appearing. Alright! The sound of the starting gun wasn't far off in our future!
Short story long, we never took the Women's Leadership Forum picture and the full group picture was 10 or 15 minutes late. Oh well. It's just a picture and I hate having my picture taken anyway. So, I found my lovely run buddy and one of her cave workout friends stretching and getting their gear on. I passed by the Starbucks coffee booth and gave my best frowny face as we walked towards the starting area. I didn't need more coffee. I had already gone to the bathroom twice since arriving at the park.
We began counting down from 10 and I scrambled to turn runkeeper on at the last second. It started right as the horn sounded and I started my heart rate monitor as soon as we crossed under the banner. The crowd surged ahead and people passed us left and right. I was calm as a cucumber chillaxing in a refrigerator. It was a simple pace that I felt comfortable with that I knew I could sustain for at least the first three miles. My run buddy even had to wait up for me which is funny since I'm usually a few paces ahead of her on our runs with my long legs take one stride to her two. But this was it. We were off and on our way. In the back of my mind I hoped runkeeper would do me right today instead of how it acted during my 10k. Only time would tell.
Mile 1: The first mile is always the toughest for many runners. You've warmed up, stretched, kept moving so your muscles don't get cold but it's really the act of expelling the energy to get you going down the road that makes the difference. A warm up is nothing when it comes to actually running. Your muscles are like a cranky teenager on a Saturday morning who's parents come busting into the door telling them to get up when they may have only gone to bed four hours ago. You get the groan, the head cover up action and the flailing hand telling you to go away. Yes, that's your leg muscles (and really your body as a whole) that first mile. Your brain is the parent saying, "Come on body it's time to get up!" All the while your legs are covering their heads trying to fight off the impending moment when they say, "Screw it...I'm up. Thanks a lot."
The first mile was relatively flat. It was a nice, shaded warm up on asphalt with only a few inclines that any runner that had trained on hills could tackle unflinchingly. I had run worse hills at mile 2.2 during my training runs. (I shouldn't know my training run courses that well should I?) That's the equivalent of an old man telling you he's had worse scratches on his eyeball when comparing wounds.
I didn't know how many people were ahead or behind us. Did I want to be further up in the pack? Absolutely but I didn't want to burn our at mile six either. Runkeeper affirmed I was doing the right thing at the five minute mark when it said my pace was around an 11:30 mile. Good. A nice, easy pace that was sustainable for the long haul.
We rounded the corner and crossed the street onto the infamous Earl Campbell Parkway that I was dreading. It's concrete, lacking in shade and most of all? Hilly. Really hilly. You have to tackle two hills like the one in this photo. That's two on each side by the way because we ran the entire length of the road one way and and back up the other. It doesn't look like much but when you see them looming in the distance like an F5 tornado and you have no option but to run straight at it then you tend to get a little intimidated.Mile 2: Mile two was the left side of Earl Campbell Parkway headed towards Loop 323. We had just passed the marker at our first hill which was pretty tough. We were barely out of the warm up stage and being pushed by my run buddy's Cave friend (who runs full marathons at a blinding speed by the way). She was going to stay with us until mile six but couldn't take it any more at mile four and ran on. We don't blame her. Haha! She coached us to run on our toes up the hill and swing our arms to get through it faster. Did it work? Probably, but my rival relationship with hills, especially steep ones, tends to blind me. But I do know it pulled something in my left knee. The same knee I hurt several weeks ago on a training run on a flat surface. Stupid me for trying something different. That wasn't how I had trained but I know she knows what she's talking about. I don't blame her. I blame me. But now I know what I need to be doing and can work on it for future runs.
We tackled the hill and saw a beautiful downhill immediately with a drill team dancing and cheering. Well, sort of. They didn't want to be out there at 7:00am any more than any other teenager with no desire to run a race, much less a half marathon. If memory serves me right, I believe my run buddy encouraged them to actually yell and cheer. It was rather funny seeing someone to tell a cheer group to cheer. But we needed it as the next hill, steeper and longer than the last loomed ahead. Again with the toes and arm swinging but my knee cursed me. I needed to wash it's mouth out with soap afterwards. Pushing through hills like that to see the next half mile or so as nothing but downhill is almost like eating that one food you've been craving for weeks but never got around to consuming. Your eyes roll back in your head, you sigh with enjoyment, make that little mmm noise and let the moment flow over you like a hot shower after a hard workout. Yes, it's that good.
And we took the ride down easy to let our heart rates come back down. Our pace was staying conversational and we were feeling good. The warm up was over and we were ready to rock this race. We passed some people who had burned out after sprinting to the hills and dying half way up and then some people passed us. Good. We'd be seeing you later. Mwhahaha!
Mile 3: We reached the end of ECP and I saw some of my friends from work waving signs and cheering. It's good to have personal support and someone to joke with before the going gets real tough. The turn around point was the beginning of mile three. We had successfully ran three miles non stop over two very grueling hills. Go us! But ahead of us was the motherload of all hills on the course. The nice, shady cute little baby bear cub half mile down I mentioned during mile two? It's mad, territorial bear mother was waiting for us coming back. *insert nervous laugh and a quick prayer to God* Unfortunately, you can't play dead while running and expect to accomplish anything of merit with the exception of a trip to the hospital followed by a trip to jail. It you call that merit.
So, evil plans hatched on our last long run together meant snack time was nigh for my lovely run buddy. Good! A break! I love breaks! Breaks all around! I was holding off until mile four to tear into my gummies. But, a certain Cave friend didn't like our hatched plot and foiled us by running back to us (after having disappeared from sight) to tell us no walking. Yell may or may not be a more accurate term. Maybe talk sternly? I had envisioned tackling mad mother bear hill in stages. It would sort of go as follows: Step 1: Talk to it soothingly letting it know I meant no harm. Step 2: Walk instead of run to show I meant to keep my promise in step 1. Step 3: Tip toe by without making eye contact. Step 4: Walk again. Step 5: Reach the mile four marker and eat a snack in victory of having cheated death so that we could all live to die another day. Huzzah! Oh...there's cave buddy standing at the top of the hill with her hands on her hips. *sigh* Just keep running. Just keep running. Running. Running. Running. What do you do? You Ruuuuun. (You sang that didn't you?) So we jogged, slowly and pressed on until we reached mile four. Snack time! Score one for the food lover! Seriously though, my stomach was starting to growl. If I didn't eat then I'd be completely out of gas and my gummies may not have been enough to refill the tank. And this is when Cave buddy couldn't take it any more. Her little competitive heart cried out to run fast and pass all those people that had passed her and so she ran. We didn't see her again until the finish line. Let me tell you. That woman is a beast runner! I am not worthy!
Mile 4: Mile four was a recovery time for us. I snacked, drank some water and walked the rest of the way up the hill. Mother bear had laid waste to many of the runners ahead and behind us. We temporarily became bodies in the carnage and also passed a few along our way. My evil plans were working well. Pick off run runner at a time and pass them. I often physically mimicked the motion of casting my line and reeling in my catch during this race.
The drill team we passed earlier was now in the middle of the road dancing to "Eye of the Tiger". I also proceeded to perform my own in-motion interpretative dance. I'm sure it was much appreciated. In fact, I'm sure I'll be receiving a call later this week with them begging me to be their new choreographer.
The pack was beginning to spread out between mile four and five. We could still see a string of people ahead of us but it was nothing compared to the clump the first three miles. Many had moved ahead and were probably already at mile eight or so yet many were still behind us. We found ourselves on a little bumpy side road full of pot holes and uneven terrain where years of neglect and tree roots had done a number on the asphalt. It was shady, quiet, and slightly relaxing. We had put the hard concrete behind us which would hopefully help with my knee that wasn't getting worse but certainly wasn't going to get better as the race went on.
We didn't really pass anyone. You could tell the people running in this bunch had probably all done similar training. We were pretty evenly matched and more concerned with finishing strong rather than finishing first. For some, it was the first half marathon. Others, maybe their second. I know because several of them were wearing our team shirts.
Mile 5: We crossed the mile five point on the little backroad still holding our 11:30 mile pace. We weren't far off from our 10k race pace and still going strong. We were refueled from our snacks and pressing on like machines. Until we rounded a corner and saw a short, steep hill. We were initially going to run up it but tackled it in 10 second intervals instead. Ten second sprints followed by a 10 second walk and repeat until we reached the top. Beautiful! We pass some folks who walked the whole way up (and probably thought we were insane) to see a short little downhill and then what looked like a water station ahead. Mile six, Baby!
Mile 6: We refilled our water bottles at the water station. I had hoped for some Gatorade to mix with water but there was only water available. It was fine though. I was still pretty fresh from my snack but wanted that little extra boost from some watered down sports drink that I like.
We took off running again feeling good about our pace. It was slightly slower than our 10k finishes but we still had 7.1 miles to go. At this point a couple of girls we had passed back during mile five passed us again when we stopped at the water station. That's just how it goes in a race if you literally stop like we did it but it just gave me a goal to try and pass for later. They were, however, the leader of the pack going in to the next mile which we would end up following off course for about a quarter of a mile. Now, this isn't their fault at all. The organizers did a great job of making sure there were was a cheer squad at places we should turn but at one particular spot the road kept going straight but also had a slight y to the left. We rounded a corner on to this particular street with the unclear markings and saw our pack leaders quickly double back and head down the y. A red flag instantly went up and as we approached the y we looked for an arrow on the road to indicate which direction we should run. There was a white, spray painted arrow pointing down the y so we followed everyone else...still unsure.
We made a right turn on a very busy road, all the while wondering why there weren't even cones out to protect runners. I'm sure the drivers passing us thought we were crazy as well. At the next intersection a bike EMT told us we should have kept going straight but they were in the process of getting someone to the turn off to mark the course better. Lovely. Because we needed to a) waste time b) run further than necessary. But we got back on course relatively quickly and pushed on to mile seven.
Mile 7: This piece of the course was pretty straight and a nice breather after the first six miles of constant hills. I took in the scenery and smells while enjoying the cool shade. Well, except for someone' stinky, stagnant pond. I admired everyone's little manicured lawns with their landscaped flower beds and made mental notes of things I'd like to do in my own yard. It helped to get my mind off the fact I was only about half way finished.
Close to mile eight we encountered the VP of our accounting and finance department. I grabbed a celebratory high five to carry me to the next group of cheerleaders who were, by far, the most enthusiastic group of people. I told them they were the best cheer squad of the day which also made them feel good. I could hear them talking about it as we ran out of earshot.
Just before the eight mile mark we passed a lady most likely in our age group running by herself. Come to find out, she had wanted to train for this race but never got around to it. We were in awe of how well she had done so far with no training. She had obviously been in beast mode for us to finally catch her at the eight mile point. We gave her a pep talk and jogged on before stopping at the water station at mile eight. Finally! Gatorade! It's the little things, People. The little things.
Mile 8: The signs people were holding were starting to get funny. I wanted to read every one of them but I also had to keep running. I had consumed about half one my second package of energy chews in order to save some for that last mile. Now the road was beginning to look desolate. Runners were few and far between and unless someone just completely ran out of steam I didn't see us passing anyone else. That's not to say I wasn't going to try. If you can't tell, I'm extremely competitive. I like to win. Ok, love, to win. I don't get upset when I lose but I will push myself hard to try and be just a little better than someone else. I think that's why I love the race atmosphere.
Mile 9: This mile is a little vague to me. I just remember passing the marker and telling my run buddy the real challenge was about to start. When we crossed it I had officially ran the furthest I've ever ran in my life. I peaked at nine miles during my training and knew I'd be good until at least mile nine but I felt surprisingly good. Except for my knee of course. I was able to keep my mind off of it for the most part but every once in a while my mind would drift to it and start thinking about how it was going to feel after the race.
I did see my work friend again and "Eye of the Tiger" was once again begin sung. By her of course! She also witnessed my in-motion interpretive dance but it was met with laughter this time. I'm a little puzzled as to why. Julliard wishes they had me at their school.
Mile 10: We were met with ribbon dancers, sign wavers and little girls with big lungs at mile 10. I also experienced a little ego boost when I passed someone who finished the Azalea 10k about 10 minutes ahead ahead of me. (I later found out her knees had pretty much given up the ghost at that point which made me feel bad.)
But that boost was instantly deflated when we rounded the corner and slammed face first into a huge hill. I'm pretty sure a slightly maniacal laugh escaped my mouth when I saw it. Not to mention a Grade A, USDA Certified and very color word. We walked this hill as I'm sure many before us did. It just wasn't worth running.
At the top we decided to run a little more. "Three miles left. That's all. It's just a little 3k," I kept telling myself. The neighborhood was now unfamiliar. I had no clue where we were. I felt like it was somewhere near the hospitals but I didn't recognize the buildings. And I felt lonely. It was an odd feeling. I wasn't alone by any means but I was wishing someone I knew personally was going to be at the finish line to see me run across. I'd only have my run buddy, a close friend from work and some co-workers. Any way you look at it those people aren't your family and it's just not the same.
We found our way downtown and an extremely kind police officer cheered us on and informed us that mile 11 was at the top of the hill.
Mile 11: I'm not sure why but seeing this marker was a beautiful sight. Probably moreso than the finish line. It meant I was almost done. I had reached the 11 mile marker and as tired as I was I felt a little surge of energy that made me want to run faster. By this time I knew we wouldn't make the 2:40 time I had wanted to achieve but we were still on track for less than 3:00.
I remember thinking, and saying out loud, that I didn't recall the course running down the square. Then again, by this point, I doubt I could do basic multiplication. All I could think about was finishing. My run buddy was getting exhausted. Not saying I wasn't but I could tell she was more than ready to be finished.
We encountered a family sitting in the back of their truck cheering on the runners. They were so enthusiastic and encouraging. They didn't have to be that far out. They could have been at the finish line with everyone else. For all I know, the person they came to see may have already finished but they were out there telling us we could do this! We were doing a great job!
We stopped at the last water station to refill our bottles. We began walking just before and another police office gave us a hard time. I joked about being tired and having been up since 4:15. He one upped me by having been up over 24 hours. I decided not to challenge him again. Haha!
Mile 11 seemed to stretch on forever. We walked a ways down the sidewalk, all the while hoping someone would be at the next turn off to show us the way. I felt like we were the last people on the course. It was a silly thought since I knew there were people walking the whole distance but when you don't see any other runners self doubt starts to set in. But I wouldn't let it deter me. We found our left turn and hit the brick streets once more. The home stretch, Baby!
Mile 12: It was time to eat a few more gummies for one last little boost. I was pumped. Adrenaline had started flowing again. I was so close to the finish line I could smell it! Not literally. But I was ready to be done!
I had to watch myself to make sure I didn't run off and leave my lovely run buddy. We promised each other we'd stick together to the finish line and intended to keep that promise. She had been my number one support through the entire process. Leaving her would be like leaving a wounded comrade laying on the field during battle. Not gonna happen. I'd catch myself getting too far ahead then slow down to let her catch up.
When we made the little zigzag that lead to the massive downhill before the final hurrah of a massive uphill at the finish line I took in the scene and praised God for giving me the opportunity to run this race. So many people wish they had the ability. I vowed to never take it for granted.
We'd caught up to a large clump of people that had died out at the very end. It felt good to pass so many people going up that ridiculous hill. Even though we took a short walk break about half way up the hill we would still manage to pass a few more people before hitting the 13 mile mark.
Mile 13: The finish line. There was it was in all its glory standing there beaming like the holy grail in Monty Python and The Quest for the Holy Grail. Only .1 left of this grueling run and then we'd be finished! I picked up my speed wanting to finish strong. Team members stood on the left hand side of the road and cheered loudly as we raced to the finish. We even managed to pass a girl right at the very end. It wasn't going to win us anything but it sure was going to boost the ego a bit to finish just a little higher in the overall ranking.
We were immediately handed out finisher medals and my friend who had been at mile three and nine found me and waved chocolate milk at me excitedly. All I could do was shout back, "Chocolate milk!" I had been thinking about it for at least half the run. In fact, I joked that I ran so I could chug chocolate milk at the end.
I finished 208 out of 312 official finishers and number 16 out of 28 in my age group. All of the hard work and dedication had paid off. The exhaustion and knee pain were paled at the sheer enjoyment of crossing that finish line and knowing I had just completed something that most people have never even attempted.
The experience was so rewarding for me that I began looking at future half marathons Sunday night. It means I have about three months to lean up and lose a few more pounds before training ramps up again. I'm shooting for a race in Shreveport, LA on 11.16.13. I'll have to run it sans running buddy which will be even more of a challenge but I'm up for it.My goal? To be better than I was the first time.
Thanks for reading! I'm sorry I just now saw this or I'd have replied back sooner.
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