Found about 13 miles around Greensboro on Saturday.
Y'all, we did it.
We actually got up early on a Saturday morning voluntarily, drove downtown, got out of the truck, took a few pictures...
...and RAN a freakin' half marathon!
Like, I think if there weren't any pictures, I wouldn't believe it myself.
Because honestly, I thought the only picture of me from the race would be a selfie in the back of an ambulance with a cute EMT worker.
Some of you may think I am exaggerating. But seriously, you guys. I am 100% honest in saying if you would have told me
But something happened around May when Chad asked me if I wanted to do it (because he wanted to do it), and the crazy part of me thought, "Well, hell. If Chad does it and I don't, then I will just be mad that he did something that I didn't do. And then I will have runner's envy (which may not even be a real thing, but I do think I'd have it, real or not)."
So, I said sure. And started training.
"Training" is a loose term, because I kinda just glanced at a schedule online every other week or so to see what was recommended for that week. And then just kinda did what I wanted to anyway and what my schedule allowed me to do. I also would ask my co-runners what they were running that week. And sometimes do what they were doing. And sometimes not. But by about 2 weeks before the race, I had run a few 8 milers and 1 10 mile race. And felt good. So, I thought I was on the right track.
Then, one week before the race on a rainy Sunday, I was being stupid on the treadmill (why, oh why will I not learn?) and jacking up the speed to "sprint." I sprained my calf muscle and found myself not running at all the whole week before the race.
So, on race Saturday, I said a few prayers, put on some makeup for that selfie with the EMT worker, and thought, "Well, at least I made the effort, registered, and got a cute shirt out of it."
5 minutes before the race, I panicked slightly when I realized I was getting ready to run the same amount of time it takes me to drive to the mountains.
The FREAKING mountains, people.
But then, before I had a chance to change my mind, we were off. And I had no choice but to see what happened.
My calf hurt for the first 3-4 miles, but then it loosened up some and felt pretty good miles 4-8. Mile 9 both calves hurt, so that was actually slightly encouraging. I think it was then, though, that I thought I was going to make it.
In fact, when I got to mile 9, I knew I was going to make it. Mile 10, I thought "Oh, I got this." And mile 12, I think I actually got a lump in my throat and thought, "Holy hell. I GOT THIS."
In 13.1 miles, I did a lot of sightseeing. A lot of jamming to my tunes. Waving at neighbors. Counting minutes. Counting songs.
I sang along with Cher, Brendan, the Rent cast, and Kelly Clarkson.
It actually was pretty glorious.
And while I will probably always, to the day I die, say that I am not a runner and I don't like running, I do have to say, I kinda like finishing a run.
Like a lot.
Thanks to this guy, right here, for wanting to do this. Which made me want to do this.
Because of him, I was able to have this moment...
...and get these medals.
I'm so thankful for these two guys (and my other Heart in Sol family members) for their encouragement and comraderie. The best kind of peer pressure out there!
I have nothing to compare these results to. They look good to me, but honestly, anything would look good to me, because there is a total time listed- meaning a start and more importantly, a finish time. I completed it.
I did it.
I survived.
I lived to tell about it, blog about it, and was able to get out of bed the next day.
I can't tell you where my running will take me next. I'm just gonna take it mile by mile. But once again, I am here to tell you, if you set your mind to do something, you can do it.
You CAN DO IT.
I promise.
Set those goals.
And then set them just a teeny bit higher.
You will thank me later.
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