Happy Belated ChristmaKwanzaHanukkah! I hope you all had a fabulous time with family, friends, dogs, kids, goats, etc.
Here’s how my 5 days in Vegas went:
Day 1: Marathon Health and Fitness Expo and Race Package Pick Up (The insanity before the Insanity)
Day 2: Half Marathon – 45,000 runners, 30,000 spectators, 30 degree temps, 13.1 miles and 1 run through wedding ceremony
Day 3: Recovery Day, aka Tami-Can’t-Move-Her-Legs-Can-You-Please-Carry-Her-to-Breakfast Day
Day 4: Shopping and wearing my medal around town like it was a Purple Heart
Day 5: Attempting-to-Work-From-Vegas Day, aka Can-You-Believe-I-Was-In-Vegas-for-5-Days-and-Didn’t-Gamble Day
Let’s focus on what’s most important here:
I RAN A FREAKING HALF MARATHON!!!
6 months of
dodging cars training and I finally did it. The goal was 2 hrs 10 min.
I finished in 2 hrs 19 min:
Meh. I still don’t feel great about my time.
However, I’m choosing to focus on the fact that I finished and move on to giving you all an idea of how this experience works:
When you are running a Half Marathon, no one warns you about the number of runners participating. In my case, it was 45,000. So, imagine, if you will, being shoulder to shoulder with 45,000 of your closest friends prior to the gun shot. Why the HELL was that one lady wearing perfume?!
No one warned me about the proper way to sign up for a starting corral either. When registering for the race, I had to sign up according to my anticipated finish time. I thought 2 hrs 15 min was a good solid goal to shoot for and just figured I’d run a little faster due to adrenaline and finish at a strong 2:10.
What I didn’t know was that every person who has NO intention on running whatsoever was going to strategically place themselves in my corral and act as human buoys to keep me from hitting that goal. And that they were all going to be wearing tutus. Because if you’re going to WALK 13.1 miles, you want to do it in style, right?
I spent the first 5 miles dodging those little ballerinas and throwing a LOT of profanities in their direction.
By mile 6, I was at a 9 minute pace and had broken free. I was laughing, running and pretty darn proud of my abilities. Runner’s high, some may call it. I like to refer to it as, “The only person who should be wearing a tutu is me”- high.
I was still feeling great at mile 7, when we were cheered on by a large group of homeless people and their dogs. Great enough to appreciate and enjoy the moment.
Enter mile 9. Immediately after passing it, something changed.I started to anticipate mile 10 right away, which was my first sign of losing momentum. I also started to question some of the dodging I had done previously. Perhaps I wasted too much energy on profanities?
By mile 11, I was as glazed as a honey baked ham and have no recollection of miles 11-13.
I do remember crossing the finish line, because some weirdo (not wearing a tutu) told me to raise my hands in the air as I crossed. I didn’t have the energy to argue, so I did as told.
All I know is that I spent the next 2 hours trying to find family members, keep moving like I was supposed to, and attempting to look excited about finishing. All this in 30 degree temps and while finagling a way to make it back to our hotel room (which is a whole ‘NOTHER story, btw).
When we got back to the hotel, my legs were useless and aching. It took all I had to force myself to shower instead of just passing out. A rub of Bio-Freeze on the ol’ quads, 2 Tylenol and a few nauseous bites of a Clif Bar and you could stick a fork in me. Most painful sleep of my life.
I woke up thinking, “I’ll never do that again. Scratch that insanity off the bucket list, and don’t look back!”
The 2nd post marathon day, had me thinking, “Maybe I’d do it again in the future, but with fewer runners and warmer weather.”
By day 3, I was angry at my finish time and determined to prove I could do better! Several fist shakes took place during this moment.
I’ve still got my eye on a very questionable toe nail. Looks to be in decent shape, but the color is a cool lavender. This can’t be good.
Would I do it again?
Quite possibly. But not in February, like most of my Birmingham people are thinking. Possibly November in Birmingham (Because who DOESN’T want to run the Ruben Studdard Half?) and with much more support.
I’ll need at least 1 person at every mile and 10 people at every mile past 11.
Oh and a tutu. I’ll definitely need a tutu.