Being surrounded by twenty hummingbirds really is my happy place. Here is one of the cute little fellas.
Monday, August 20, 2012
My happy place.
Being surrounded by twenty hummingbirds really is my happy place. Here is one of the cute little fellas.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Thank you, sir, may I have another?
Yeah, I said it. I finished one half marathon at a snail's pace and immediately wondered, "When can I do it again, and do it better?" (Y'know, this thought came BEFORE I realized that my lower back was in a world of hurt.)
The race has come and gone. If I am truly honest, I am really disappointed at my finishing time. I was slower (BY FAR) than any of my training runs. It was hot and crowded, but I'm not sure how I finished with my stupid, slow pace. It bugs me, but in all honesty, I crossed that finish line fast with a huge smile on my face.
The first five miles were very tough. I just kept thinking how much farther I had to go and how many more hours and minutes I would have to run. I loved the live bands, loved the DJs, but missed out on having spectators cheer me on. I took to pretending that the signs were all for me, the slow girl plugging along near the end. It helped a little.
At one point, I could hear a spectator shouting ,"YOU CAN DO IT, YOU'RE ALMOST THERE." At mile four, that was almost enough for me to stop running and go punch her in the face. NEWSFLASH, LADY: WHEN WE ARE RUNNING 13.1 MILES, DO NOT SAY "YOU ARE ALMOST THERE" WHEN WE HAVE NINE POINT ONE MILES LEFT TO RUN. I held it together and kept on plugging along. I stopped only for sips of water for the first eight miles. But then I got tired. Everyone around me was walking/limping. I figured I could start taking some walk breaks too. So I did. This was probably my downfall.
Once I hit mile ten, I started to get excited. I WAS DOING THIS. I was walking quite often, but every time I realized I was getting too complacent, I started to run. We'd be going up a ramp on an incline and I'd think, "Oh hell no. I'm RUNNING this." And I did. Mile 11 came and went. The closer I got, the more excited and happy I got. When I saw that 13 mile marker, I knew that I was ready to end it. I started to run as fast as I could, bobbing and weaving between the others at the end. I FLEW across the finish line, my arms in the air, a huge smile on my face.
I freaking did it.
So, the important question is: When can I do it again?
And a related question: When did I become a crazy person?
The race has come and gone. If I am truly honest, I am really disappointed at my finishing time. I was slower (BY FAR) than any of my training runs. It was hot and crowded, but I'm not sure how I finished with my stupid, slow pace. It bugs me, but in all honesty, I crossed that finish line fast with a huge smile on my face.
The first five miles were very tough. I just kept thinking how much farther I had to go and how many more hours and minutes I would have to run. I loved the live bands, loved the DJs, but missed out on having spectators cheer me on. I took to pretending that the signs were all for me, the slow girl plugging along near the end. It helped a little.
At one point, I could hear a spectator shouting ,"YOU CAN DO IT, YOU'RE ALMOST THERE." At mile four, that was almost enough for me to stop running and go punch her in the face. NEWSFLASH, LADY: WHEN WE ARE RUNNING 13.1 MILES, DO NOT SAY "YOU ARE ALMOST THERE" WHEN WE HAVE NINE POINT ONE MILES LEFT TO RUN. I held it together and kept on plugging along. I stopped only for sips of water for the first eight miles. But then I got tired. Everyone around me was walking/limping. I figured I could start taking some walk breaks too. So I did. This was probably my downfall.
Once I hit mile ten, I started to get excited. I WAS DOING THIS. I was walking quite often, but every time I realized I was getting too complacent, I started to run. We'd be going up a ramp on an incline and I'd think, "Oh hell no. I'm RUNNING this." And I did. Mile 11 came and went. The closer I got, the more excited and happy I got. When I saw that 13 mile marker, I knew that I was ready to end it. I started to run as fast as I could, bobbing and weaving between the others at the end. I FLEW across the finish line, my arms in the air, a huge smile on my face.
I freaking did it.
So, the important question is: When can I do it again?
And a related question: When did I become a crazy person?
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