Half Marathon

Since this was my second time to run/walk the Little Rock marathon, I wasn’t exactly what you could call nervous or excited. It seemed like a natural thing to do. I was, however, a little nervous about the fact that a back number was not in my packet. I read the fees and it had language about disqualification. So I was a little anxious about that. Then again I wasn’t going to win so what would disqualification get me anyway.

I woke up and my hotel had a complimentary (err included in room fee) breakfast. I ate a bagel and banana. There were a lot of fellow runners in the lobby. One guy had named himself “Sexy Canadian” on his name badge. I got some reassurance that I wasn’t the only one who didn’t receive a “back badge” saying half and others weren’t wearing them so I didn’t feel too bad about not having one.

Then it was time to go. There’s always this buzz right before a race where you feel more alive than you will ever feel in your entire life . . . . until the next race. It’s a mixture of pure adrenaline, anticipation, and nervousness.

AND we’re off.

And I was running… then walking.. then running… then… woah what’s that in my back.

I knew it was going to be a tough race because the combination of cold and constant rain made my training pretty much non-existent. I wasn’t expecting to make the decision to walk from mile 4. So I walked.

And what a walk it was. It was sunny and it was warm. The people were cheering. I wasn’t expecting to be last. Being last is funny because there is a jeep (or van or truck) following you to let the police officers and others know that they can open traffic back up after it passes. I felt like a dictator. A benevolent dictator holding traffic up while I go on my morning stroll.

And my morning stroll became an afternoon stroll as I came in around 12:22. I came in a whole hour later than I did the year before. That was a little embarrassing. But I got my medal and I was quite proud of myself.

Sometimes the best race isn’t the one you win. It’s the race you lose with a blaze of glory. There’s honor in not going gently into that good night.

Okay I’ll stop with the cliches.

Afterward, I ate some “Perks place” grub and got one of the complimentary massages. OH lord. Some women want to marry doctors and lawyers. Screw that I’m all about the massage therapist.

So I finished and managed to knock two things down off my bucket list.