I’m sorry I haven’t posted in so long, but I wanted you to believe running my first half marathon last month actually killed me.
Actually, it did something far, far worse.
It hooked me.
Me. The blogger with a penchant for vodka and chocolate-covered bacon everything.
This is my life now:
Oh and see those little silver packets on the lower right? Those are GU brand energy gels. I don’t even like Gatorade, let alone creepy pudding packs with space-agey Nutrition Facts.
Finally, though, I listened to the advice of 10,273,047 seasoned runners and tried one during a recent training session, around mile 8, when I felt particularly sluggish. I went with the least offensive flavor I could find: Tri-berry. (Named so because GU berries run triathlons. Obviously.) Sure enough, 20 minutes later, I felt a sudden pep in my step that lasted the entire remaining 5 miles.
Speaking of winners, the rumors are true: I completed my first half marathon, The Wild Half, on Sunday, May 18th, in Wildwood, New Jersey!
I chose the course because it ran alongside the coastline, i.e., it was FLAT. After 8 weeks of training, I still had no idea what I was doing, but my sister, a race veteran, was there to guide me every step of the way.
Her calming presence didn’t stop me from asking the obvious questions.
I was also careful not to disrupt my normal routine the day before the race.
The morning of, I lined up with the 10-minute mile pace group. My goal was simply to finish without walking, but I knew the faster I finished, the faster I could drink “celebrate.”
I programmed the 80’s cardio mix on my Pandora app and got ready to rock and roll.
I was feeling great until about mile 7, when the sun and endless stretch of pavement started to sear my soul. By mile 9, I hit the low point usually reserved for mile 10. Then, miraculously, I saw the mile 11 banner. I had missed the 10-mile marker altogether.
Despite that mental boost, by mile 12, I was ready to stop running. Two of my oldest friends, shame and pride, pulled me through.
With a stitch forming in my right side, I grimace-grinned down the home stretch.
I passed through a string of enthusiastic volunteers to claim my snazzy finisher’s medal.
So, not only have I become one of “those” people, I’ve also become one of THESE people:
To add insult to [inevitable knee] injury, what am I up to now?
If you were forced at gunpoint to run 26.2 miles, who would you drag with you?
***As promised, one commenter from my last post receives a Vosges Mo’s Milk Chocolate Bacon bar! The lucky winner is: WTF Elsewhere! Congrats, Lorien – I’ll be in touch via email to award your prize!***
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