While I was training, my game plan was to try to finish this bad boy in two hours, and I did it in two hours and eight minutes. Don't worry, I'm not mad at all at those extra eight minutes. There were definite points during the race that I didn't think I was going to be able to make it, so I would have been happy finishing in three hours (that's a lie). Annnnnnd, I placed 11th out of 42 in my age group.
I couldn't be happier with the way it went yesterday. It was simultaneously the best and worst thing I've ever done. The best, because it's a pretty cool feeling being able to do something not everybody can do. The worst, because well my feet hurt and it was cold when we started and I had to wake at 4:30 in the f-in' morning.
|Well earned beer.|
The rest of my favorites were waiting at the finish line for me too. To say I was happy to see them is an understatement. And I'm not sure if it was because I was excited to see them just to see them or because seeing them meant I was finished. Actually, I know it was because I was finished. Don't tell them that. You know what, I'm sure they know that.
I assumed that I would finish and NEVER want to do this again, and right after I finished yesterday that is exactly how I felt. Fellow racers kept approaching me asking how my first race went and giving me pointers for my next race and I would laugh and tell them this was my first and last one, and they would laugh right back and tell me I would be back. And I think they're right. And by 'think' I mean I've already been scouring the internet for the next race I want to do. I still refuse to believe that a person can actually run a full marathon though. Refuse.
The rest of you enjoy your Monday, I will be spending mine eating every last calorie I burnt yesterday, and then some.