Never Leave Your Wingman

So I know that this picture is not very cute of me, but I had to post it to show that I did in fact survive the half marathon this weekend. Because believe me, it was pretty iffy there for awhile. You'll note that Kristen is holding me up, as walking and standing are still quite painful. So while Kristen presented a lovely recap of our adventure on Saturday, I felt like I needed to break down my race experience as well:

Miles 1-3: Hey, this isn't too bad. I'm feeling pretty good, and that 13 miles won't get the best of me! My spirits are boosted as we pass a cute little lady playing castanets on Foothill Blvd. to encourage the passing runners. A little strange, but we go with it. Kristen and I notice a woman running beside us who is probably 80 years old. Kristen informs me that we must finish ahead of her, but it takes us a good mile to shake her.

Miles 4-8: I'm still feeling good. The wind is getting mildly annoying, but I am able to brush these thoughts aside as we run through the lovely Sugarhouse neighborhoods with their very cheery residents. They are playing loud music, shaking cowbells, and displaying signs such as, "Go, your name here, go!" And go I did.

Mile 9: Wow, this is a long race. Why the crap is it so windy?

Miles 10-13: Why have I stopped running? My legs have officially quit on me. They have been my trusted companions for years, and we've been through a lot, but they chose Liberty Park to abandon me. With 3 miles left to go. You know who didn't quit on me? That would be that little steam engine, Kristen Bird. She never left my side, even though she could have shaved 30 minutes off her time if she had. What a gal! At mile 12, my good friends, Betsy and Ericka, had braved TRAX to come down and cheer us on. Their high kicks give me and my legs the extra boost that I needed to go another 30 feet. At mile 12.5 I gimp into the Gateway, and my calves cramp up on me, rendering me unable to move. This is awkward. Kristen basically has to piggy back me to the finish line, but somehow I finish. I now cannot walk.

Sunday: I have never been this sore in my life. Every step hurts, and my blistered feet scream out with every painful step. But I realize that this is a great metaphor for life: Put one foot in front of the other, never leave your wingman, and you can overcome all of the gale force winds and crippling leg cramps that life throws at you!