Sunday, my friend and I did the Cowtown half marathon. It was a blast! This was my second half marathon, and while I didn’t experience the “holy crap, what did I just accomplish?” moment of my first, I did have that moment of “hey, this is a thing I can actually do on the regular!”
I called my mom after the race and she asked “Where in Fort Worth did you run?” to which I answered “Everywhere.”
About a week and a half ago, I completed the inaugural DC Nike Women’s Half Marathon, my first half. I’m not going to lie, I walked some, but truly, my only goal for the day, was to finish. The fact that I maintained forward momentum for 13.1 miles still kind of astounds me. Halfway through, I caught myself thinking “If you’d told me a year ago I would have finished a half marathon I’d have told you you were crazy.” The truth is that if you’d told me 20 years ago I’d be finishing a half marathon I’d have told you you were crazy. As I’ve written here before, I’ve never been what one would call athletic. I was manager of the 8th grade volleyball team because I wrote an essay (on a related note, let me just say a well-served volleyball to the side of the head is not the most pleasant experience).