Well. That’s not the prettiest picture ever taken of me, but it’s definitely the sweatiest. At the point this picture was taken I was torn between crying out of pride and crying out of pain.
The 13.1 miles didn’t cause me a problem, really, it was the cold, the rain, the lame pacing decisions I made early on (I’m an idiot who can’t hear) and the psychological issues that caused me to have some serious emotional breakdowns that almost were harder to cope with than the blisters.
But – I did it. I ran a half-marathon. The girl who couldn’t even make it one block running just ran 13.1 miles. And I didn’t even come in last. I came in 406 out of 426 – and that’s not last. I accomplished something I didn’t think I’d ever even want to do, much less be able to. I may not have ever experienced any sort of runner’s high on the race, but I’ve experience a pride-high. It’s a weird sensation accomplishing something you thought impossible – it makes me contemplate other goals I thought were out of reach. Which is exactly the mentality I need to prepare for the marathon in 3 months.
MrZ was foresightful enough to snap this picture with his cell phone at the finish-line which officially makes him husband of the year because (a) he documented an important moment in my life and (b) he caught me smiling.
There are other things I would like to mention about this race:
- I was miserable and crying a big chunk of the race and was SO HAPPY to see my family in the rain around mile 9. It was terrible spectating weather but somehow, seeing them (and crying about how miserable I was) helped me make it through.
- I am smiling. The only reason I’m smiling is because I’m done. Do not misinterpret that smile as meaning I’m happy.
- Notice the people bundled up along the finish-line. Notice I am not bundled up and I am wet. My hands were like ice cubes. Painful ice cubes.
- The lack of a crowd around the finish-line only reminded me how close to the end I was. 400+ people finished ahead of me and less than 20 were behind me. I told you I was slow.
- That girl you see behind me was my salvation. I started contemplating walking the last mile I was so cold, so tired, in such pain, and just depressed. But she and I started talking and the last mile ended up being kinda fun. KINDA.
- LilZ did run me to the finish-line because I asked him to, but he bolted before the boundary so that they wouldn’t wonder about his number or time. He was also VERY cold. Did I mention the cold already?
- I realized right before the 13-mile mark that my long-sleeve shirt was covering up my race number that they would need to tear my tab off of, that is why my shirt is just pulled up a bit. I didn’t want to take it off because I was cold and somehow I felt like it would keep me warmer even though it was paper-thin and soaking wet.