Despite a rocky start (sitting in traffic for over an hour, missing the race start because they didn’t hold the race for the 2000 people in traffic etc), my girls and I had a fabulous time in the Diva’s half marathon. For Lindsey, it was her first (and allegedly only) half marathon. For me, it was a completely different perspective on a race. A normal race morning for me finds me a bundle of nerves, reviewing strategy until the gun goes off. When the gun went off last Sunday, we were facing the wrong direction and not even in the corral. While I’ll admit to being perturbed, it waned when I realized that my start (nor my middle, nor my finish) didn’t matter. We were here to run with Lindsey and enjoy the ride.
Enjoy it we did. I have never been part of the pack. Even in Las Vegas, the pack thinned quickly and I spent miles 10 through 26 essentially alone. Last weekend, however, we were surrounded. We chatted up other groups, inevitably curious about our costumes, danced when there was music around and stopped to take pictures mid-race. I took a bathroom break, walked through water stops and hurdled the occasional pylon. I had a blast. The picture below is from the Mile 12 tiara and boa stop. As you can tell, I’m taking things very seriously. (The song was Vogue.)
So what do I take away from the experience? Anyone who has been around me on race day knows that I am legitimately no fun. If I talk at all, it’s harsh and I am so nervous I often vomit. Delightful, I know. Did this race change all of that? Of course not. What it did remind me is that running should be fun and that there are always other races. It also helped me realize that I want to be racing again and that I have a lot of work to do this fall.
Other lessons? Don’t run with a boa. They smell terrible and are hard to breathe through.