My goodness 7am does not look good on me.
Before the race I had never run more than 5 miles on the road. I had never run more than 5 miles anywhere. I didn't see the point in running more than 5 miles.
Someone please tell me what the point in running more than 5 miles is?
All I've got is to show myself I can.
And I did.
10K preparations were fairly lame. I squeezed in one 6.3 mile-er on the treadmill and continued with my four mile routes around town. I held tight to the belief that since I can run 4 miles easily the adrenaline will carry me for the last 1.3.
And it did.
I ran this race with my fellow Mommy runners and a few super cool cats from work.
The camaraderie kept me training. It kept me dedicated.
Every time I arrived at work to serve up French Dips the chef would ask how my run was that morning. We compared times and pushed eachother to train.
For the record he kicked my arse in the 10K.
My Mommy running friends and I would discuss runs on facebook. There were many attempts to get out and have dinner to discuss "race prep".
It helps to have fellow crazies in your life. They keep you plowing forward even when you've decided there is no point to running more than 5 miles. Because we own cars. And bicycles. And 5 miles certainly is enough to keep you in shape.
But 6.3 miles was a mountain to climb. And I did.
For the first few miles, as I ran alongside one of my friends, I wondered why we were doing it.
My legs were tired.
We still had miles to go.
But as we ran those last two miles, I was so glad we were doing it. And we weren't just running it, we were rockin' it.
The finish line brings such clarity.
**Race Photos by Ken Shelton Photography**