Race Day

5:15 AM race day.  The race started at 6:30AM and with almost 7000 runners in a small town we had to get there early to get a parking spot.  I went to bed at 8PM the night before and surprisingly got a decent amount of sleep.

I apparently picked a race during Jim's busiest week of school, ever,  He said finals week would have been a better week for a race in South Carolina.  He faithfully came along, worked long nights at the hotel, and even took our picture in the hallway at 5:15AM. On race day he finished his assignment, got the children dressed and fed and over to the finish line to watch us complete the race.

The most amazing thing to me about this race is not that I finished but that the first 8 miles were easy for me. Mile 8 to 9 was very hard and I was convinced that they just forgot the mile 9 flag marker and that we would soon be approaching mile 10.  That was not the case, but mile 9 and 10 were a little easier.  

At mile 11.5 I was ready to walk and Tina told me I would regret it if I walked and that she wasn't going to let me walk.  I remember thinking that there was no way I would regret walking for 1/2 mile.  Even the few days after the race I was still convinced that I would not have cared if I walked.  However, now that a few more days have passed I am so happy that I ran the ENTIRE race, Tina was right.

A little back story....Before the race my dad kept saying that he wanted to circle back and run me in after he finished.  However, I had strong memories of running a race as a 6 year old and my dad literally dragging me through the finish line and I did not want a repeat of that.  I knew that he would finish almost an hour before us and I didn't want him dragging me for 4-5 miles to the finish line. We agreed that he could circle back to mile 12 and run the last mile with me.

When I saw my dad, I was ready to throw up and be done with the race.  I asked if I could lean on him and he let me, and he dragged me in the last mile. Despite all my rants about not wanting him to drag me in like a child, he still helped me that last mile. 

As soon as we turned the corner we could see our children, Jack was grinning at me. We both ran over to hug and high five before we ran to the finish line.  (My dad graciously took my sweatshirt and wrapped it around his own waist because I couldn't stand it touching me for one more second.)

 (Below: I am in the purple, the girl in the neon green is blocking most of my body in the picture, getting ready to charge the finish line.)

I was convinced that I was going to collapse and or throw up before they handed me my medal, but I didn't. 

It was a wonderful race.  They had a flag marking every mile, a water stop every 2 miles with water and powerade and a digital clock, with medical and porta-potties every 2-3 miles, and beautiful weather.  The course was pretty much flat with a view of the ocean for the last 4 miles with plenty of spectators cheering us on.  The best sign we saw was "RUN! There is a zombie behind you!!"  The best shirt I saw was "DO NOT PASS: RACE OFFICIAL!"  Hilarious.

After the race we headed back for home.  I was so sore and stiff that a stranger asked if I had twisted my ankle.  I should have lied and said "Yes, that is why I am walking like this, because I twisted my ankle."

It was a fantastic race and mid February getaway. I couldn't have asked for a better experience.