You might remember that last October I was coerced into doing my first half marathon. During several parts of my 3 hour, 20 minute race itself, as well as for many weeks afterward, I swore I was never doing that again.
And then, I registered for race number 2. (I know, I think it might be a sickness.)
I had very high hopes of running race #2. Injury after injury after injury dampened that idea, so my goal became to finish in under three hours.
Lots of hills, lots of heat, and just not generally being at the top of my game brought me in at 3 hours and 5 minutes. Let me tell you, I really wanted to beat myself up for that. I really wanted to be mad and disappointed, but, then I remember something... I just finished 13.1 miles. And, as the saying goes that's floating around Pintrest-world, I stilled lapped everybody on the couch.
My friend and I stopped at a Japanese cook-it-on-the-table place for our post-race "big slab of beef". She was discussing how I could do even better on my next race. Out loud I told her there wasn't going to be a next race, but deep down, I was pretty sure there would be!