Our "race" season began this weekend. Steve and I both participated in the Salt Lake Half Marathon with our friends Dayna and Ryan. It was a great day for a race. The start line was not as cold as we had anticipated. The men took their place towards the front of the large mass that were gathering at the start. Dayna joined me towards the rear. It is always a little exciting as you stand there the few minutes before you actually start. There is a palpable energy. They counted down and then the airhorn was blown, and then...we waited a few more minutes before we actually started as we made our way, slowly, to that start.
I enjoyed my running playlist in one ear as Dayna chatted with me in the other. We alternated jogging with walking (much more walking than jogging). By mile 9 Dayna was ready to run a little more and my hip was not having any of that, so she went a head. Luckily it was then that my running angel (Steve) appeared. He had finished his race with a time of 1:23, wrapped his knee that has been giving him trouble and made his way back up the course to me. I had him by my side as I finished the course...3:44...not wonderful by any stretch of the imagination, but I really don't care. I am proud of my accomplishment. I would love to be a "real runner" some day, but not sure I have it in me. At least I am out there doing something, something I would have never thought I would do in my life...
1 comment:
Amazing! You are right to be impressed with yourself. I am. I will not run unless I have a ball in front of me. Great job!
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