My first running race

I was preparing for a sprint triathlon. While talking with my brother, he told me I should run a half marathon that was in like two weeks. Like usual, he had me talked into it before I really had time to think it through. By the time I got home I thought things through and decided it was crazy and I hadn't trained and didn't have time to train so I wasn't going to do it. Several days passed and I kept thinking about that half marathon. Somehow I decided to do it. I did my tri that weekend and then went to the gym the next Monday to run the farthest I had ever run at one time, seven miles. That Saturday was the the half. So the longest I had ever run in parparation for this race was seven miles and it was five days before the race. Thankfully I have learned from my mistakes and I usually properly train for races now. That day I will never forget how long that bus ride to the starting line was. I kept thinking that surely we had gone 13 miles and the bus was going to stop, but it didn't. It just kept going. It was cold and windy at the starting line so I was so grateful for the bonfires. It seemed like we were there forever before the race started. My brother was there but he was so much faster than I was so when the race started I told him I would see him at the finishline. I didn't want to hold him up. I ran every step of that race. All 13.1 miles of it. By miles seven, my calves were absolute knots. My knees started to really hurt by about that same time but I was going to did it. The last two miles I thought I really might die. I was really familiar with the course but I had never run it before, only driven it and those are two completey different things. Those were some of the longest miles of my life. I finally hit mile 13 and decided I wanted to sprint it in. I thought the finishline was in a different place so I turned the speed on a little too early. It was sheer dumb luck that allowed me to finish that race. The good thing that came out of that race, besides knowledge, was that emerged a runner. I finally LOVED to run. I got excited about running and that started the crazy runner that I am today.

Many of my races are special to me for diffeerent reasons. My firsts are specials because they're firsts. One of my marathon finishes means so much because we pushed our wheelchair bound mother from start to finish. One is a PR.

There is something good to find in everything, even the negative, or in my case, the crazy. Thanks for checking in with me and check back soon. I'm hoping to blog at least one more time before the Boston marathon, maybe twice. Have a good one!