Thirteen point One

For the last couple of months, I've been training for the longest distance race I've ever done - a half marathon. I'm not even sure what it was that made me think that was something I needed to do (It probably had something to do with my friend Jiff), but I decided to try it. So, at 6 am most mornings, I was out skipping around town. My 'long' runs kept getting longer, and longer. I can't lie, some of them were the most miserable experiences I've had in a long while. But most of them were actually way less torture that I thought they'd be. And then, this past Sunday was D-Day.

And I was utterly terrified. I kept trying to just not think about anything, cause it was better than the "What the @#!*#?" and "I ain't NEVER gonna finish this!" and "WHY did I think this was a good idea?" thoughts in my head. But, I tied on my trusty do-rag, and got in line.

In what seemed like no time, I was running past the 7 mile marker. Piece o' cake, I tell ya! Of course, then we got into these long, slow, grades and the next few miles were kinda rough (who am I kidding? The next few miles sucked real bad.). The marching band at mile 10 sure helped, though! Sweet! One semi-quick trip to the port-a-potties (dammit. blew a good 5 minutes there.), up and over a couple more hills, and EUREKA! THE FINISH LINE! I hope they got a good picture of me throwing up the rock fist. 02:09:21

Went to brunch at First Watch, where I rewarded myself heartily. Mmmmm ... then promptly spent the next two days freezing and medicating the pain away. And now that I'm back to almost-normal, I find myself looking online for the NEXT 1/2 marathon. Gotta beat that time, you know?