…miles.
Yep, that’s right.
I ran 13.1 miles.
And I did it 1:56.
Let me tell you, there are few times in my life I have been so proud. I woke up at 4:30am Sunday morning after 9 weeks of training. The day was finally here. I have sacrificed a lot the last couple months to train for this. And I was a little nervous, but as I lined up with all the other runners, I was just excited. Yes, excited about getting ready to run 13.1 miles. Another reinforcement of the fact that I am not your average person. Most people get excited about football games; me, I get excited about running long distances. I felt so good the entire race. My knees didn’t hurt and I kept up the pace I wanted to, in fact, I was consistently ahead. I finished my 5k, 10k, and 15k all faster than I thought I would. When I saw that finishing the entire thing in under 2 hours was a reality, I pushed myself all the more harder. I came into mile 11 tired, but thankfully I found a runner to pace myself with and was determined not to let her beat me. As I came down the final stretch, I sprinted to the finish, and then just about collapsed. See, I always begin my races with the goal of crossing the finish line with nothing left and this time I definitely succeeded in my endeavor. It was an incredible feeling. The biggest confidence boost you can imagine. I did it. I just ran 13.1 miles. Not only did I run it, I killed it. For a first-timer, to finish in under 2 hours, well, that’s all I could have asked for.
What they fail to tell you is that the next 24 hours are brutal. I didn’t sleep a wink last night because every time I moved, I woke up due to the throbbing in my legs and everyone at work has been laughing at me as I hobble around due to muscles that are in major rebellion. I plan to spend the evening with ice on them and attempting to climb as few stairs as possible as this event brings tears to my eyes. Literally. I also will figure out a way to ensure this sort of pain does not happen again. At least not quite to this extent.
However, as usual, the pain is not enough to keep me from putting myself through this type of torture again. Next thing on the agenda is another half in April and then straight on into a marathon training program. Yep, I am crazy. Or maybe just a junkie for that feeling of accomplishment after you cross the finish line. But I figure one of these days it will come in handy. Perhaps someday I will even find someone who thinks of it as an endearing quality.
