Another Half

Upon waking up this morning, I knew that my 2:10 goal was pretty much not going to happen...didn't mean I wasn't going to still try.

I finally started my period this morning...of all mornings. Guess there's a first time for everything...first time starting on race day. The joys of being a girl.

I was oblivious to what was going on outside and it was probably a good thing that I was because I would have crawled back in my warm bed. I walked outside to head over to my bestest's house and got hit with cold temps, a little drizzle, and a gust of 22 mph winds. Lovely.

I love the motto "No Excuses", but today I already had a few...and it wasn't hard digging for them either.

No turning back...we headed out to Rockford, found a parking spot, hit the port-o-potties (which I must say that with each passing racing year, I get more and more used to them...I don't even give it a second thought anymore), and waited against a building (for warmth) to line up at the starting line.

We lined up toward the back, wished each other good luck, and we were moving. I love the energy of a race, the people cheering, the sound of hundreds of people's feet hitting the pavement...just love it.

I kept my music off for about the first mile to take it everything around me. I tried to stay behind the 9:44 pacer and a head of the 10:18 pacer. I thought of my sister and noted the exact point where we lost each other last year...I missed her, but sucked it up and ran for her.

The mile markers were off anywhere from .05 to .2 which really drove me absolutely nuts. I would hear watches beeping all over, including mine, and then hear people comment about how far off the markers were.

I kept a great pace until right before mile nine. I stopped at a port-o-potty and then waited about 45 seconds there until standing there waiting just seemed like a waste. I couldn't let my watch tick any longer and so I just continued on. I knew that I could still finish at about 2:11:30 at that point, but at mile 12 I fell apart. I was yelling at myself in my head saying, "You only have a mile to go so why are you walking?!" And to myself I was saying back, "The mile markers are off and the race is technically 13.26 miles long so really I have about 1.4 miles to go!" So, I started thinking of all the reasons why I run, fought through my terrible cramps, and how cold I was.

I saw the corner coming up and knew that just about two tenths from there was the finish line. I ran at about a 7.2 minute mile sprint to get there and finished in my usual style with my arms in the air and my head down. It felt good...tears in my eyes good. I thanked God silently for another race...another medal around my neck.

I walked over and grabbed a water, a bagel, and a banana and was going to head over and wait for Hol. I looked up as I was walking and there stood my gorgeous man with our three beautiful kids in tow. It didn't register at first that they belonged to me...and then I really wanted to cry. I was so happy my man surprised me and they made it to see me finish. It made the race.

I didn't get the 2:10 that I had originally hoped for...but I ran 13.1 miles and had a great time considering all of the things that could have made it the worst race for me.

I'll get my 2:10, I will!