Category Archives: Race recap

2016 Dallas Hot Chocolate 15k Race Recap

On Saturday  Feb 6th I ran the Dallas Hot Chocolate 15k. I’m finally posting the race recap a week and a half later, because life is ridiculously, insanely, busy (and it’s about to get a lot worse until the end of May). I have a new position at my school, and the workload is kicking my butt, not to mention the 3 kids are busier than ever.

I write entire novels in my head while on the treadmill, but alas, no time to put fingers to the keyboard.

It was my first Hot Chocolate race (and my first 15k), and the race fit perfectly into my March half marathon training schedule. The weather was absolutely perfect for running – low 40’s, not a lot of wind, cloudy. I wasn’t sure how the race would go, since my training hit back to back monthly hiccups with an injury in December, then bronchitis last month.

I couldn’t have asked for a better race. My goal pace was a 10:45 min/mile (my goal for my half marathon, so I thought this would be a good indicator). My splits were:

  1. 10:35
  2. 10:34
  3. 10:37
  4. 10:36
  5. 10:49
  6. 10:21
  7. 10:40
  8. 10:58
  9. 11:03
  10. 3:23 for the last .33

Average pace: 10:40 min/mile. I know, right?  I was pretty happy.

I’m really trying not to get overconfident or too excited about the March 20th half (my first in a year!), but the training is going well. I’ve also incorporated weekly swim and bike workouts to begin working on my April sprint triathlon.

If it sounds like a lot of training, it is. I’m on a half marathon training schedule (peaking with my mileage the next 3 weeks) while also training for a sprint tri.

My husband has dubbed my (imaginary) novel “The Agony of Goal Setting”.


2015 Austin Thundercloud Subs Turkey Trot Race Recap

On Thanksgiving morning, I ran the Thundercloud Subs 5 mile turkey trot. You  may recall that this race is where my midlife running hobby all began; two years ago, on a lark, I decided to head down to my sister’s Thanksgiving meal in San Antonio a day early, spend the night in Austin, and run 5 entire miles on Thanksgiving morning.

At the time, I had never participated in a race besides walking the Heroes for Children 5k with my family every year. I can’t recall how, exactly, I got it into my head that I should run for 5 miles, but 4 5ks, 3 10ks, and 4 half marathons later, I’m still training.


I remember feeling so nervous at that 2013 turkey trot; I had no idea if I could sustain a jog for 5 miles. It seemed outrageous at the time, to run for nearly an hour without walking. When I began training, I (literally) could not run for more than few minutes at a time without walking.

I have to admit, I was entirely confident going into this race that I would PR. I mean, how could I not PR?! Sure, I’m two years older, but I’ve been running solid for two years since the last time I ran the course.

Race day dawned muggy and humid. So much so that it began pouring on us as we waited for the start. All 21,000 of us, according to the MC.

Just me and 21,000 other #atx runners. #austinturkeytrot #thundercloudsubsturkeytrot

A post shared by Mrs. Classicist (@mrsclassicist) on

It always takes me a mile or so to get warmed up in a race, so I wasn’t particularly concerned with the first mile, when I felt heavy and slow. My split, at 10:13, was perfection (I was shooting for an average of 10:15 min/miles). Clearly I was running better than I felt. Surely I would feel better once I got warmed up.

It never got better.

I’m not sure if it was the humidity or the Wednesday night margarita at Guero’s or the ramped up half marathon training, but unlike two years ago, when I felt positively euphoric at the finish, it hurt the entire damn race.

I still PRd, by 1:20, but I expected to run it much faster.


Next up, a January half marathon in Houston.

A tale of two races

It was the best of 5ks, it was the worst of 10ks…

Three weeks ago*, I ran in the Tour des Fleurs 10k. I was not overly enthusiastic about this race, having just finished my ridiculous summer runstreak, and my legs were still not feeling recovered. I decided to approach it as less a “race” and more a really pretty 6 mile run.  

The race begins and ends in the Arboretum, and follows along White Rock Lake, so the location is ideal.

Unfortunately, the “cold” front we were supposed to get overnight never came in, so it was a humid 80 degrees at 8am when the race got underway.

This race was probably my weirdest race to date. Despite not feeling emotionally or physically prepared for the race, I actually felt pretty good throughout the entire 10k. Although I gave myself permission to walk/run if I needed to, I realized around mile 4 (when I still felt fairly comfortable) that I was going to be able to run the entire thing. I didn’t feel like I was running particularly fast, but neither did I feel like I was slogging along. I felt steady, and somewhat strong, and far better than I thought would feel.

And apparently far better than I actually performed, because I finished in 1:06:58, which is both my worst 10k (granted, of only 3) to date, and close to my average half marathon pace (10:40 min/mile).

Oh well. I still got a medal and a hat.   

Don’t I look like I’m running fast?

Two weeks ago**, my family attended our 9th (!) Heroes for Children 5k.  To be honest, we were all a little cranky about this, since 1. it’s getting harder and harder to get teenagers to voluntarily rise early on a Saturday  morning and 2. we were all up late the night before due to our drumline cymbal player’s football game.

The line “it could be worse, you could have cancer, get OUT OF BED WITH A GOOD ATTITUDE” may have been uttered.

You can see the enthusiasm oozing out of them.   

I actually didn’t decide if I was even going to race it until the drive over, when we discussed our family plan. I was planning on staying back with my daughter, until all 3 kids decided they wanted to “see how long they could stick to mom’s pace.”  Okay, then, guess mom is racing it.

To say I was not in a PR mindset is an understatement.

We all began together. Fairly quickly, my daughter (and husband, who for the 2nd year in a row did stepdude duty with our youngest and stuck with her) fell behind me.  The 15 year old stuck with me for about a half a mile, when I heard him say just over my shoulder “Well, considering I’m running AS FAST AS I CAN to keep up with you, I don’t think this is my race.”  I didn’t see any of them again until the finish line.

And then there were two. (the 13yr old and me)

For the first mile, he had trouble staying with me because he wanted to run ahead. We had discussed this before the race (after last year, when he disappeared during the first mile, then I passed him, then he finished over 8 min behind me), so he spent the first mile running a body length or two ahead of me, glancing over his shoulder, then slowing down.

The second mile, he started panting. He stayed beside me, but I could tell he was starting to tire. I periodically patted his back, told him he could do it, and updated him on our progress (we’re halfway through the 2nd mile, Sam! We’re almost done with the second mile! One mile left!).

Somewhere around mile 2.25, he spied the upcoming water station. He told me he needed to stop for water. I glanced at my watch.

Oh dear.

I asked him if he was okay catching up to me if he stopped and I kept running. He nodded. I glanced at my watch again, and did some quick math.

I kept running.

I know. I chose a PR pace over stopping with my kid. #badmom  In my defense, I really did think he would be able to catch right up to me once he caught his breath.

I came in at 29:10, almost 45 seconds faster than my May 5k PR. That put me 5th in my age group, and 41st out of all females in the race.

My 13yr old? I missed his finish, because he came cruising in just 30 seconds behind me (I hadn’t even turned around yet…still walking and getting water). He beat his time from last year by 9 minutes. I told him that I was sorry I didn’t stop with him, but I could tell I was on a great pace. He put his arm around me and said “That’s okay, Mom. If you’re running fast, you gotta keep going. I almost caught you!” (he had me in his sights the entire time and was trying desperately to catch up).

My 11year old? Came in at 34:20, which was 11 minutes faster than last year. She rocked the run. I did capture her finish.

And the 15 year old? 41:34, still 2 minutes faster than last year. And he decided if he couldn’t finish quickly, he would finish with style.

* and ** I began this blog post two weeks ago, before running the 5k. After the 5k passed,  I decided to condense the races in 1 post. Then more weeks went by. This whole “job” business is really messing with my life.

2015 Dallas Disco Run 10k Race Recap

On Sunday, my husband and I ran the Dallas Disco Run 10k. Yes, that’s right, I got the husband to run with me!I knew that he would kick my butt, even as he moaned and groaned about the training program.  After all, this is the guy that beat me by 2 minutes in last year’s 5k after not training at all. He also joined a men’s soccer league this spring (he played competitive soccer in high school and college), so he’s been running. He’s a runner. But he sweetly put on a show about how hard it was going to be, and how much easier it is for me to “only” run 6.2 miles (insert rolling eye emoji).

Still, yay for couple time! (if you count me spending 1 mile watching his back fade into the distance, and then meeting up with him an hour later at the finish line as couple time. Which I do.)

Race morning was gorgeous, which was especially glorious given that we have been underwater here in Dallas for the past bajillion days. Sunny, cloudless, and a pre-race 62 degrees (it would be closer to 80 by the time we left Fair Park). I know it was 62 degrees because my husband complained that it was “cold” as we got out of the car at 7am. He’s so cute.

We agreed, because we’re both insanely slightly competitive, that we would run our own races. I’m not sure we were still next to each other by the time we crossed the starting line.

Race splits:

  1. 9:55 min/mile
  2. 10:09 min/mile
  3. 10:15 min/mile
  4. 10:22 min/mile
  5. 10:39 min/mile
  6. 11:05 min/mile**
  7. last .2 8:58 min/mile

**I had to run/walk the last mile and a half due to stomach issues. I fully blame Panera for this snafu, since they discontinued my traditional pre-race meal, and I (unwisely) chose an alternative from the menu that definitely did not agree with my stomach 13 hours later. I think I could have easily gone another minute faster without this handicap.

Official time: 1:03:31.  I chopped nearly 3 minutes off my best time (okay, only time) from the Wounded Warrior 10k a year ago. I placed 73 out of all women (205), although I couldn’t figure out my age group finish, since the website only showed the top 6 finishers in each category (and I was not in the top 6).

My super fast husband? 53:53 and 6th in his age group (which, I’d like to note, is a younger category than mine. Ahem.).  RIDICULOUS how talented he is.

I’d be depressed and resentful except I’m just so damn proud and impressed.

I’d love to say that this is the beginning of a new couple activity, but he couldn’t wait to finish the race so he can “stop all this running crap” and get back to lifting in the gym to “get big for swimsuit season”. He needs to put weight back on since he dropped 8 pounds without trying, just from running four times a week.

I might be depressed and resentful about THAT part.


Head for the Cure 5k race recap

I had very low expectations for this 5k.

For one, I haven’t been feeling the running lately.

For another, I celebrated my dear friend Amy’s birthday last night with a group of friends. I had the best of intentions as we headed to their house.  I’m an adult. I can socialize with a group of friends and still be a responsible athlete, right?

This is a rough timeline of the sequence of decision-making:

6:30pm: Arrive at Amy’s house. Decline her husband’s offer of a cocktail and responsibly choose a La Croix (sparkling water), instead.

7:15pm: Agree to one cocktail while declining the less-healthy mozzarella sticks and loading up on the (fairly healthy) pasta dish that I brought.

9:15pm: Accept a slice of birthday cake.

9:38pm: Realizing that a reasonable bed-time for my early wake-up alarm was not going to happen (given the raucous game of Cards Against Humanity), accept a second cocktail.

You get the idea.

So, that is to say, that when I arrived at the race event shortly after 7am, I had made peace with the strong likelihood that my 2015 goal of breaking 30 minutes for a 5k was probably not in the near future.

Regardless, it was wonderful to see my dear friend Tyra Damm, fearless leader of our team.


David Brooks wrote about people who radiate an inner light. Those who seem deeply good, and make the world a better place, and us better people for knowing them. My friend Tyra is like that. I have said more than one time that I want to be Tyra when I grow up.

She lost her husband Steve to brain cancer over 5 years ago, right as we became friends. Somehow, someway, she is warm, and caring, and full of grace, despite her loss.  I think the world of her.

Team Damm does, too.


So, really, I wasn’t too worried about not breaking 30 minutes this morning. Actually, I was feeling pretty lucky and happy, having spent the evening laughing-until-I-cried with some of my dearest friends, and then beginning my Mother’s Day weekend with a run honoring my friend’s husband.


The run did not feel good. I did not feel strong, or fast, or particularly in shape. Before I even completed one mile, my mouth had that cotton-dehydration feeling (#thanksTrey), and my stomach was not amused. As I approached the final curve before the 3 mile marker, with the finish line commotion growing louder, I thought I might be sick.

But I also saw on my Garmin that I was close.

I pushed.



Turns out? It was a pretty good race.

2015 Rock n Roll DC Half Marathon race recap

We had a great time in Washington DC, and the family trip deserves a blog post of its own. If I have time, I’ll do that.

However, more importantly, I survived my half marathon! I ran the entire race! It wasn’t my worst time! (can you tell I had very low expectations after my bout with pneumonia? Not to mention the 6 days of nonstop walking the week prior to the race).

Beginning about 48 hours prior, I started feeling very apprehensive. First, there was the lack of optimum diet and rest. My legs were already sore from all the sight-seeing. We were eating out every meal.  I wasn’t sleeping well in the hotel.

Then, there was the weather: cold and rainy.

Nevertheless, I begrudgingly optimistically laid out my clothes the night before, and set my alarm. I knew I could finish it, but I anticipated having to walk-run the race instead of my (usual) steady jog throughout.


I left the hotel at 6:15am to walk in the cold rain (cue Hemingway novel) to the nearest metro stop. It was already crowded with several runners. Crowded, as I would soon discover, was a relative term.


This was the crowd waiting on the metro platform to exit Federal Triangle station. It took me over 15 minutes just to exit the station.  Post-race, it would take me TWO HOURS to get back to my hotel. I do not have a picture of that nightmare because my hands were frozen, wet claws and I could not handle my iPhone.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I made my way to the corrals where, somehow, against all odds, I found my online friends, Loni and Sue. I have been social media friends with these ladies since long before I started running, and I was so excited to finally meet them in person.


After chatting for about 10 minutes, we headed to our separate corrals. Both ladies had amazing races: Loni (rockstar badass) broke 2 hours, and Sue completed her first ever half marathon.

There were over 25,000 runners registered for this race. To get an idea of what that looks like, the first corral crossed the starting line at 7:30am. I began running at 8:01am. There were many corrals behind me.

I spent just over 30 minutes in the cold rain in my corral, waiting to start. It was not enjoyable.

Mile 1: Oh thank God I’m finally moving. I’m so cold. I’m so glad I decided to wear three layers. Washington Monument. White House. No biggie. Just running past famous places.

Mile 1.5: Normally I would totally judge you, people waiting in the line for the port-a-potties after less than 2 miles, but given how long we just stood in line to start the race, I kind of understand. Still … sucks to be you.

Mile 2: Heading over the bridge. Look around, and try to enjoy this. Remember, you signed up for this because you thought it would be fun to run around Washington DC. You thought wrong, but try to enjoy it. I wonder if I’ll be able to see Loni coming back over the bridge. Maybe I can distract myself by looking for her.

Mile 3: Getting into a rhythm. This isn’t that bad, actually. 3 miles down, 10 to go. Wait, run the mile you’re in. Stop thinking about that nightmare hill just after mile 6. I’m so scared of that hill. I don’t want to run that hill. Does a 60 degree angle even count as a hill? It’s more like a cliff.  Don’t think about it.

Mile 4: I’m pacing pretty well. Maybe I should try to slow down. This is a strong pace for tired legs. But my legs don’t feel tired. You always do this. Pull it in a bit, and do your counting. 1-2-1-2-1-2. There. Keep that.

Mile 5: The hill is coming. It’s lurking. I know it’s coming. It’s just after mile 6. Oh look, Watergate and the Kennedy Center. Look at all those people ducking under the overhang to run. Guys. We’re soaked. I promise you, running out of the rain for those 100 yards does not make a difference.

Mile 5.15: There’s the 5 mile marker, but my Garmin says I’m already at 5.15. I hate that. I know it’s normal and happens every race, but I really think I should get EVERY. SECOND. OF. CREDIT. I always run more than 13.1 miles, so my pace looks slower. Sigh.

Mile 5.5: Ooh, an a capella group! Is it the Georgetown Chimes? WHY IS THERE NO SIGN? I’m going to pretend it’s the Georgetown Chimes*. That makes me happy. Hoya Saxa boys!

Mile 6: Oh god. I see the hill. You’ve got to be kidding me. Nice job with the American flags with cheering volunteers, but patriotism ain’t gonna get me up that hill.

Mile 6.1: I can do it. I can run this. Just go reaaaally slow.

Mile 6.13: Nope. I cannot. Neither can everyone else around me. Let’s powerwalk up this guys. Oh, look at all those spectators on the bridge. Yeah, I bet this is the fun part of the race to watch. This is where runners come to die. I’m not even halfway through the race.

Mile 6.25: Let’s try to make up some time. My legs hurt. That hill killed me. Lots of people still walking. Just jog easy and try to get back on pace.

Mile 7.5: That lady with an umbrella looks kind of like Kasey. It IS Kasey! She came out in the rain to cheer me on! But she’s on a downhill. I don’t want to stop. I’m flying down the hill. Kasey, quick! Take a picture!


Mile 7.75: I feel someone bump into my left arm, and I murmur “sorry”, even though I know he/she bumped into me. Oh my gosh! It’s the 2:15 pacer dude! I’m with the 2:15 pacing group. I’m so totally going to run with them! I GOT THIS I’M RUNNING WITH THE 2:15 GROUP I AM SUCH A BADASS.

Mile 7.9: And they’re off.

Mile 9: Adams Morgan. Wait, what does that sign say? Smoked MEAT? There is a person standing on the side of the road with a huge platter, tongs, and pieces of what appears to be, yes, smoked meat. If that is not strange enough, many runners are pausing and grabbing pieces of meat. I am now obsessed with thoughts of my fellow runners eating poisoned meat from a stranger on the streets of Adams Morgan.

Mile 10: Under a large tent with the sign “DC Tri Club” are a series of stationary bikes with athletic looking men pedaling furiously shouting “Go runners!” as we pass by. Okay, that’s awesome. Mile 10. A 5k left. Only a 5k. I hear several runners yelling “5k left people! We got this!” I’ve heard that every half I’ve run. I love that tradition.

Mile 11: 2.1 miles left. I’m still running. I actually have this. I haven’t had to walk yet (I do not count the hill. No one counts the hill. Everyone walked that hill. That hill should die.)

Mile 11.5: I feel someone jogging beside me. Um, hi, personal space? Oh shit, it’s my dear friend Robin! She falls in next to me and chats away effortlessly. It’s so easy for her to run this pace that she is actually texting my husband as she runs. And is able to take a selfie of us.


I cannot decide if I appreciate her being there, or if I am annoyed by how freaking easy it is for her to talk nonstop while I am struggling to keep moving in a forward direction. She keeps pulling just ahead of me, then dropping back to match my pace. At one point I may have crankily said, “Look, if you want to run faster, be my guest, but this is as fast as I am going right now.”

We’re very good friends. I can say that to her.

Mile 12.5: Less than a mile left. Robin is still easily cruising beside me, encouraging me. At one point she says, “If I’m annoying you, just tell me to shut up.” I shoot her a look, and say “Just don’t expect me to answer you.” Fair enough. We keep cruising. It’s downhill, and I’m starting to see runners with medals and foil wraps pass in the opposite direction, saying “You’re almost there!” I speed up. I can tell I’m going at a good clip at this point.

Mile 13: Just as I’m about to enter the finishing chute, I see by my watch I’m going to break a 2:30. Holy. Shit. I’m not pacing to my best time, but I’m doing far better than I anticipated. I tell Robin I’m going to break a 2:30 as she peels off, and I hear her yelling as I leave her to run the last .1 by myself.

I didn’t know she was taking this picture of me, post-finish. Clearly.



  1. Mile 1: 11:13
  2. Mile 2: 11:06
  3. Mile 3: 11: 18
  4. Mile 4: 11:06
  5. Mile 5: 11:17
  6. Mile 6: 11:13
  7. Mile 7: 12:09
  8. Mile 8: 11:12
  9. Mile 9: 11:03
  10. Mile 10: 11:09
  11. Mile 11: 11:32
  12. Mile 12: 11:43
  13. Mile 13: 10:45
  14. .28 miles: 2:35

Official time: 2:29:20

I’m really happy with this time. I thought for sure it would be my worst run ever (it seems my July 4th Colorado half really set the bar high for a horrible run), but I was a full 6 minutes faster than my worst, and only 3 minutes slower than my PR.

I thought the Rock n Roll half was really well done (the weather and public transportation wasn’t the race’s fault!) and would love to do another one.

Although I am not taking public transportation next time. I was in a sorry state by the time I finally made it back to the hotel.



*According to the race website, it was Supreme Chord.

2014 Dallas MetroPCS Half Marathon Race Recap

I meant to do a post last weekend about how ready! I was for this race, and how I just knew! I would PR, and how incredibly relieved! I was to be almost done with my half marathon training.*

But December, as a working mom of 3, is brutal, with little time to breathe never mind blog about training for half marathons.  So, briefly, here I was before my December 6th 8 miles, excited for just one. more. long. run.


I had a great run that morning. 8 solid miles with negative splits with a 10:55 min/mile pace. I finished just knowing I would PR on Sunday. I have trained hard for this race, including a 14 mile run (my longest ever), and 2 x 13 mile runs.

And I did PR. But not like I wanted to.

It wasn’t the race’s fault.


It was my first time running the Dallas half marathon, but it won’t be my last (I will skip next year, but would love to be back in 2016).  My other 2 half marathons were decidedly smaller, so I had no idea what a “big” race would be like. It was my first expo. First corrals. First jumbotron at the start/finish. First race with fireworks. I’m not sure of the exact number of runners registered, but I saw bib numbers in the 20k range, so at least 20,000?

There were a lot of people there.

Race recap:

Starting line: (me and several thousand of my new running friends count down to the firework display start).  Woo-hoo! I’ve been standing here shivering in this corral for over 30 minutes. I’m ready to run, baby!

2 minutes later: I haven’t moved.

2 minutes later: I haven’t moved.

6 minutes later: aaaand I’m slowly walking towards the starting line, like herded cows with everyone else in my corral.

(Roughly 11 minutes after the first runners left): And I’m off!

Mile 1: Okay! I feel loose. I feel good. This is going to be a great race! Look, a drum line. I should talk to Alyssa about that. It would be awesome to run by Sam and his cymbals.

Mile 2: I’m 2 miles in and there are still people cheering everywhere. This is awesome. I can’t believe how many spectators there are.

Mile 3: What?! A band? There are bands on this route? No way.

Mile 4: What is this? “Luke’s Territory”. Wait, why are they all funneling us into this narrow pathway? Um. Okay, wait, I don’t want water. I don’t need water. No thank you. Gah, they’re squeezing us into a 12 foot wide path with water people on either side. No. Where. To. Go. Okay, I guess I’m walking a bit. Sigh. After 4+ miles of (amazingly) little dodging and weaving needed for so many runners, this seems like poor race planning. Damn you Luke’s Locker! *shakes fist at sky* *only not really because I’m in the middle of running a half marathon*

Mile 4.5: this is the most awesome downhill ever. I’m flying! My splits are gonna be awesome! I’m totally going to PR!

Mile 5: that is the 2nd English mastiff I’ve seen. I love mastiffs! This race is great!

Mile 5.5: woman holding a sign “if this was easy, it would be your mom.” Best. Sign. Ever.

Mile 6: someone next to me says “We’re running over Central!” Wait, what? We are! We’re running over 75. This is crazy. Cars are honking as they drive under the overpass. There’s another band. The bands are cool but they’re kind of messing with my playlist.

Mile 7: I’m starting to feel tired. Um. That’s not good. I’m feeling mile 10ish at mile 7. Ruh roh.

Mile 7.5: another mastiff. I’m pretty sure all the mastiffs in the Metroplex are at this race. It’s a sign. A sign I should be on the sidelines cheering with Zelda instead of running this damn race.

Mile 8: I thought we were supposed to split from the marathon people by now. Oh god, I should have looked at the map more closely. What if I missed the split? WHAT IF I’M STUCK ON THE MARATHON ROUTE? OH GOD HELP ME.

Mile 8.5: people are yelling “beer and margaritas! Come get a beer or margarita!” There are actually people giving out free beers and margaritas to runners. There are actually people drinking the free beers and margaritas in the middle of this race. I am cracking up.

Mile 9: There’s the split! I didn’t miss it! Oh THANK YOU GOD. Got it. Half marathon, stay to the right. Why yes I will stay to the right. Godspeed, you crazy people hanging a left.

Mile 9.5: Hello naked man holding a guitar. Thank you for making me smile.

Mile 10: the woman running in front of me turns to her friend and says “Only a 5k left. We got this.” Exactly. That is exactly what you say when you are running a half marathon and hit the 10 mile mark. It’s almost like I’m a runner or something.

Mile 11: oh god I’m tired. I’m so tired. I have 2 miles left. 2 miles is NOTHING. I can run 2 miles in my sleep. Or drunk. Or crippled. I can do this. But I’m so tired.

Mile 12: there are so many people starting to walk. I want to walk. Okay, just walk for 30 seconds, and then run faster. Come on, you’re almost at the part where the crowds are going to get really thick again. Think of all those eyes on you. Run.

Mile 13: Almost done. I can hear the announcer on the microphone. Sounds like someone just proposed? He’s talking about someone proposing right as they crossed the finish line. That’s romantic. My husband won’t even run with me. Why won’t he run with me? HE SHOULD BE IN MISERY WITH ME.

Finish line: Done. PR, but crappy PR. I cannot believe I trained that hard and ran that many miles and only did a 2:26. Boo, Tracey, Boo. (mood: sour)

5 minutes later: a medal! and a foil blanket, like runners I see on tv! And a finisher bag! And beer! (which I don’t drink but how cool is that?). And I saw my friend Sarah! This race is awesome!  I’m totally doing this again! (mood: celebratory)

IMG_4173-0.JPG IMG_4174

Unofficial splits according to Runkeeper:

  1. Mile 1: 10:49 min/mile
  2. Mile 2: 10:40 min/mile
  3. Mile 3: 10:45 min/mile
  4. Mile 4: 10:53 min/mile
  5. Mile 5: 10:50 min/mile
  6. Mile 6: 10:54 min/mile
  7. Mile 7: 10:59 min/mile
  8. Mile 8: 11:13 min/mile
  9. Mile 9: 10:59 min/mile
  10. Mile 10: 11:04 min/mile
  11. Mile 11: 11:16 min/mile
  12. Mile 12: 11:31 min/mile
  13. Mile 13: 11:20 min/mile
  14. Last .33: 10:27 min/mile

Official time: 2:26:26  Placed 361 out of 737 in my age group.

Final thoughts: I can’t really complain, since I did PR by almost 2 minutes. But I really thought I would be able to keep those sub 11 min/mile splits, and finish under 2:25. I expect (hope?) to continue with PRs for a while longer, given I’ve only been doing serious running for the past year. I’m not sure what happened, since I did the training, and I felt like conditions were pretty darn good, both personally (my diet, my taper, etc) and with the course (it’s supposed to be a fast course, weather was pretty good).

But a PR is a PR, right?

It was still a great experience, and by far the best race I have been in.

*Until the beginning of January when I have to train for my March half.