It all started in Modesto

I was perfectly content with 5ks until I ran a longer race for the first time. After cruising through a 12k in San Francisco, I was eager to try out a Half Marathon, so I registered for Modesto. The race would start at 9pm, which sounded pretty fun. The race was three months away. Excellent! I'll be so prepared.....

I was in no way prepared for this race.

I never had a training plan. I didn't put in the effort I should have. As race day got closer, I got more and more mad at myself.and even considered backing out. For two seconds.

At the start I knew I could get through the next 13 miles with my head, but my legs had no idea what was in store for them. I said a silent apology to them, a prayer to the universe and the running gods, and we were off.

The first 5 or 6 miles were through neighborhoods and quiet streets. This was only the second annual running of the race, and along with it being 9pm on a Saturday night, I didn't expect much in the way of spectators. But I'll be damned, Modesto, you were out there on your lawns cheering, blasting music, your kids were lined up along the street wearing glow necklaces clapping their hearts out. I sailed through that first half on your wings of adrenaline with the cruise control set at a steady 9:10, feeling on top of the world.

And then the aid station had water but no cups. 
And my arch supports were moving inside my shoes growing a couple of nice blisters.
And I had slowed to 9:20

I saw my cheering squad around mile 8, got hugs, got a new burst of steam and powered on.

At this point, there were not a whole lot of spectators, the packs were getting thinned out, and I felt like I was in the middle of nowhere. We rounded a corner and were face to face with a giant glowing moon hanging just above the trees in front of us. It was so amazingly poetic that I wanted to let out a yelp, but the girl in front of me beat me to it. She raised both arms over her head and yelled, THE MOON! which made the five or so of us in our pack laugh and do the same. I'm not one to pass up an opportunity to yell out loud about the moon.

Dehydration was creeping in. I had passed up the first station, and the second....let me say it again because it made me so mad. NO CUPS! Gu was the only thing I had with me. I think it saved my life.

My feet were killing me. My legs were going numb. I had no idea where I was because I had kicked it down a couple gears and there were no more mile markers, so I couldn't judge by pace. I just knew I was at least 10 miles in and losing my cool. People were passing me. I felt so close to finishing. After 10 miles, 3 more is nothing! Or it can feel like each mile is 10 miles long!

Hallelujah a water station. It was kind of a really bad idea to stop running to drink the gatorade, what with not being able to feel my legs it was extremely difficult to balance myself. I kind of straight legged it around in a circle while gulping it down, newborn baby horse style. And then Frankenstein shuffled away for about 50yds before I could get my stride back to a regular shuffle.

And I shuffled it right on in to the finish in 2 hours and 12 minutes. Proud for getting through the longest distance I had ever run in my life, and in some serious pain.

I threw my shoes off immediatley

So now I have the itch. More of these...and longer! I am currently five and a half weeks in to a training program in anticipation of my next Half coming up next month. I'll be ready this time.