Well, we didn’t die! It was actually nowhere near as bad as I thought it would be, especially for my super-duper three weeks of sorta training.
A lady running next to us started rifling through her fanny pack at the top of the Main Street Bridge. We noticed because we heard her car key go plinking through the grates and into the river below. Note to Kate: this is why fanny packs are terrible. I carried my what-nots [including my iphone, obvs.] in a gallon size plastic bag and got ribbed for it. [But look who had pictures and car keys in the end.]
What a sense of humor on that priest, huh?
Going up the Big Green Monster isn’t nearly so bad when you’re walking. Running down the other side nearly incited a riot from my knees, though. Ouchies.
This is a picture of Leigh and me. No, not the shoes. The shadows. It’s hard to walk, pant, and picture-take at the same time.
So good to have my running buddy back stateside [that’s her on the right]! She has this little thing she does with her arms when she’s tired that is for some reason really funny to me. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it until last week when I saw her little arms start pumping out of the corner of my eye.
Leigh and I followed up these post-race beers with burgers from Five Guys. Yes, I have already more than made up for all calories burned in the pursuit of that medal.
Our chip time was 2:02 something or other, so 2 minutes short of the goal in the back of my head. [Although, I’m sort of skeptical of this since the reported Final Time was about four minutes different than the time on the clock when we passed the finish line. Did anyone else notice this on their times?]
But I’m really just proud that we did it, and that I didn’t puke at the finish line even though I really really wanted to. Next year who knows? Maybe I’ll even train.