Since the marathon, roughly less then a month ago, I've run about 20 miles. I had the stomach flu and a sinus infection. My husband and kids were sick and we traveled to three different far away places in a week. Needless to say, I was feeling quite unprepared.
I had no time goal, no expectations: other then finishing without throwing up, breaking a bone, or falling on my face. My poor running partner, Saron, was dealing with her own illness and sleep deprivation. We huddled together at the start, nervously laughing about the real possibility of us getting lost. As the race started, we exchanged promises of sticking together and taking it easy.
It was hard. There were hills (like a ridiculous amount of hills), roots, and rocks. Miles 1-3 took forever. We walked a few, stopped for a breather, and talked about everything from running to clothes. We encouraged other runners and each other. We admired the beauty of Victoria Byrant State Park and congratulated ourselves on even being out there. An hour and 25 minutes later, we crossed the finish line. 5 minutes later, we learned that Saron had placed second in her age group and won a medal! I'm not sure who was more excited her or me.
|Saron and her medal!|