The ultimate challenge of willpower and determination lies at registering for a marathon. Although that distance is, at this point in my life, a little too long to consider enjoyable and worth training for, I did hear a suggestion from good ole Lance in early June. "Why don't you run a half-marathon then?" I hadn't planned on running that far, but I liked how fun and easy he made it sound. A half-marathon! In August! I was just thinking the same thing!?
Training runs, sore quads, more gallons of water than I thought possible to consume, and sooner than I expected, Saturday, August 15th rolled around. The Minnesota Half-Marathon in Lower Landing Park. The nerves I felt that morning were indescribable and the weight of my legs when I reached mile marker 11? More than one ton.
Once mile 12 was done and I saw the finish line in sight, I guess that extra reserve of adrenaline kicked in, or maybe it was the sharp contrast of going from chanting "only 11 more miles" to "less than half a mile", but I was totally high. Like, then lines of cocaine high. HIGH. And that feeling was so strong and lasted so long that for two days straight all I did was stare down at my legs and thank the heavens they're still attached.
2:20:28 - and proud of it!
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