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13.1 and Done

In honor of the one year of craziness, I went even more crazy today.

My scheduled 11 mile run turned into 13.1 – the half marathon distance – and the distance I will allegedly cover on the last third of the Half Ironman  (creeping up in the 63 days).


I won’t lie and say it “felt great” or I was so “invigorated” afterwards.  My pace was 12:24, which isn’t horrendous considering a year ago, 12:40 was my 5K pace.  And yes, I had a good big fat sissy cry moment around Mile 5, thinking about baby Caden and my healthy children, and feeling very grateful.  I made the the turnaround at Mile 6.6, and I continued to feel pretty grateful for about 2 more miles.


When Mile 9 arrived, I started wondering why in the world I put myself through this torture. I was starving and thirsty, and couldn’t get enough GU or water in me to feel right. My legs were starting to feel like I was wearing somebody’s else’s legs….somebody with legs made of jelly, and whose joints were attached together with tape.  

Mile 10, I frankly don’t remember much about this mile.  I think I may have been floating above my body for a bit.   

Then came Mile 11.  The place where I was supposed to stop (according to Coach Monster’s schedule).  I was wishing I could stop.  But the out-and-back course made me go. If I wanted to go home, I had to go

I was cramping.  So I walked for a bit.  Mile 12.  I was so lost.  Had no idea where I was…but knew only that my legs were moving a little and I could see signs that I was moving in the right direction.

I finished the run shuffling, wincing and mildly bent over from leg cramps. 

A little “happy” Saturday half-marathon.  



When I stopped running, then the real goodness set in.  I popped into the car and my hamstrings and buns were knotted and yelling at me. I was literally crying from the pain, thinking, This is almost as bad as childbirth (it wasn’t), but thinking I’d rather have birthed a baby than do what I just did (I wouldn’t). 

Funny how quickly the pain fades.  

Within thirty-minutes, I was okay.  Granted, three hours later…I am walking funny and my joints feel like evil minions are hammering around in there, but I am okay. 

And the race monkey is officially off my back.  I have done the swim distance (1.2 miles)…. I have come within 4 miles of the bike distance at this point (56 miles)…. and now I’ve done the run distance (13.1 miles).  For me, the mental game is the battle.  If my mind thinks my slow body can do the race, then that’s 90% of the battle.  So now, to get the 10% in gear.

Happy Saturday, everyone!  And to those of you in Irene’s path… you are in my thoughts and prayers.  Stay safe.  And advice from a twenty year coastal Georgia girl?  When they say evacuate… get on out of there, ya’ll…  

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