I’ve always wanted to run a half marathon, but I’ve never been a runner. Sure, I’ve run to train for other sports, I’ve run as punishment while training in those sports and I’ve run to get in better shape, but I’ve never competed in any sort of timed race.
This was my first and last attempt at such. After two years of giving up smoking, losing 45 lbs, three surgeries (the last of which kept me nearly immobile, stuck inside my apt. for nine weeks during Aug/Sept 2008) and a healthy dose of I think I can, I did it.
2:11:25. Not spectacular, but considering I missed most of the training period and couldn’t run more than a mile at the beginning of October, I’m pretty happy.
My feet hurt like they’ve been beaten, my knees are a little wobbly, but the rest of me feels great. Whether it’s euphoria from finishing or endorphins, I love it.
This also hurt really fucking bad, the blisters during training were terrible and running that far really isn’t all that fun after eight or so miles.
Now, on to my next goal in life, finding out what I want do with it.
