"Excuse me, fast runner coming through"

Y'all I ran a half marathon on Sunday. A good friend of mine ran her first full marathon on Sunday. A running hero of mine ran like his 5 billionth marathon on Sunday. It was a running weekend if I do say so myself.

Saturday was lazy Target trips and getting gas for the 70th time this week (damn commuting). Oh, and I somehow managed to throw away half of my Sephora purchases because I grabbed the bag and chucked it without checking what was still inside. I'm obviously a genius. And really pissed off. (would you judge me if I said that I actually looked in the outside trashcan for it this morning?)

Anyways! So, the race. It was the Big D Texas Marathon and started at Fair Park in Dallas and then went up to the lake, yada yada, you know the drill because I run this route all the freaking time and yap about it all the freaking time. Since I did not taper and have been totally exhausted, I knew I was in for hurt because a) I was exhausted and b) hilly course and c) well, I wasn't really feelin' it. Oh well. Suck it up, run! (I haven't run a half since December and just wasn't feeling 13.1--but was not ready for 26.2 either!)

I was running for Operation Jack and that always gives me the kick in the pants I need. Even if this time it was a kick in the shorts. Haven't raced in shorts since August! Ugh, Texas.

We met up with Sam before the race and then I went off to find Kristi and hang with her because we were going to stay together until the full and half split. We had a bit of trouble finding a good place to "start" at the start line because there weren't corrals and it was obviously crowded. We found a place kind of in the middle of the pack and that seemed to work just fine--we weren't flying out the get go and we weren't passing people to find a pace. Worked fine.

So, we're runnin' along and chatting and I'm telling her she can do this (event though I'm about ready to just turn around and go home) when all of the sudden out of nowhere this runner comes up behind us like a bat out of hell and nearly knocks Kristi over trying to shove past her (it wasn't that crowded!) and screams "excuse me, fast runner coming through, fast runner! I'm faster than you--MOVE!". To which, we're both horrified because, hello, rude. Yeah man, I get passed all the time and I do not care, but, d0n't be all rude and b*tchy about it. If you're really that concerned about the .5 second it took to dramatically pass us, get up to the front of the pack before the start. Sheesh.

Mind you, this less than one mile into the race. Sheesh.

So, we spent the rest of the time joking about how fast we were and how we are totally going to qualify for Boston (maybe in our dreams). So, although the fast runner was super rude, she did give us a good 45 minutes of entertainment.

We split around mile 4 and I cheered her on as I could see her charging up a hill as I went the other way (sad!) and I just kept pulling. I had no delusions of a PR and that was good. I knew the course and it was hilly (ok, hilly for Dallas standards) and I was tired and I just kept ticking off the miles. It's funny how in a full marathon I don't start walking until like mile 16 or 17 but in a half, I'm "done" by mile 7. Isn't that funny how that works?

We finally got to mile 9 and I knew exactly where the route was headed and just told myself "run hard to the end of Swiss" (which I tend to forget is the longest effing street ever). I kept playing games with myself until around mile 12 where I started trying to pick people off (I never ever do that--maybe I should?). My legs just hurt. My mind was totally ready to kick butt, but, my legs just wouldn't do what I told them to. So, I just picked them up as fast as I could and ran, ran, ran.

I crossed the finish line a minute under my goal and a minute over my PR, so, I consider that a huge win because if I'd been better prepared I could have totally PR'ed. (and a PR on that course would have made me super duper happy)

After the finish I got showered and changed (yes, they had showers!) and we cheered Sam into the finish. Then we went to lunch where I managed to kill a large quesadilla and am pretty sure I'll never need to eat again. (but I made cookies last night and ate 3...and had 2 with breakfast...soo...)

It was a tough run for everyone, and although I had my doubts about it the entire time, I'm pleased with my time and how I ran all things considered.

One last long run before OKC! Whoot! And then, perhaps, sleep...? (doubtful)

PS. Have I mentioned Boston??! I seriously need a sedative because I am so excited about Boston and even though I won't get to see the race, I'm still going to be around for all the festivities and the atmosphere. Ohhh Boston!