At last, the trail emerged from the woods, I heard the crowd cheering and I saw it - - - the finish line, right there in front of me. The HUGE clock that was ticking away was a pleasant sight for my eyes, although I wouldn't have cared what it said - I was nearly done with this dreadful course. (did I mention that I saw two full-grown men fall during my race? That's how brutal it was.)
1hour 5 minutes YEAH BABY. Sure, it may sound slow, sluggish, snail-like, etc... but you should have seen the hills. (Did I mention that I walked them?) Even better, I was 7th overall for the ladies and - -- wait for it - - - 1st in my age bracket (at least, preliminarily. I know there were some issues with the timing.) I'm happy. How's that for a personal record?
So, as I sit here with my frozen corn, I am thankful that I have the inner drive to challenge myself because it feels so damn good to be done with that very BRUTAL race and know that I could do it again, if I had to. Heck, I'll probably do it again. Every small challenge is one step closer to that 26.2 mile one hanging over my head. Kari and Maegon, how are you doing? Are we going to kick some serious butt in Paris, or what?
While I'm thinking of it: so many of these people who run these races with me have done marathons. They think it is cool as heck that we are doing this. It pushes me on, ya know?