Hard to believe it’s almost been a week since the race. (That’s a close-up of my hard-earned medal above.) I’m finally recovered, so that’s good news! As we (well, I) look forward to Houston, I’ve decided to switch to the half instead of tackling the whole 26.2. (Don’t be disappointed, Alex… and Q… and whoever else might be reading this who might be disappointed!) Right now, Lisa and I have tentative plans for – possibly maybe if everything works out – doing a whole together next fall.

This morning I hoofed for six miles on the canal. Felt good to get back in the game. This afternoon I baked cookies for Grandpa (they came out terribly, all smooshed and flat, but hopefully they’ll still taste good), then wandered around the apartment and took some random pictures. The one above is a macro shot of some potpourri. Very fall-ish, which is apropos as this is the last weekend of summer. And below is a close-up of flowers that Tracy brought me at the end of the race last week.

Finally, the picture below is what someone (well, me) looks like after walking 13.1 miles in 88-degree heat, with a whole heap of humidity thrown in for good measure. Lovely!

The title of this post is a quote from Micky Dolenz of The Monkees:

I’ll love you twice as much on Friday because I want the weekend off.

Half marathon number three, accomplished! Not exactly the time I was hoping for… not by about 40 minutes. But, who knew it was going to be in the high 80s, with record-high humidity? I wasn’t prepared for that at all. By mile 4, I was already hurting, and way off pace. By mile 7, my heart rate was in the 180s and I was close to quitting. But I didn’t quit, and therefore two thank yous are in order:

To Lindsay, who listened to me cry like a big baby on South Clinton and convinced me that it was enough (more than enough) to just finish. And to Alex, who handed me a bottle of water that kept me going for the next several miles on the Canal Path.

So, I slowed my pace waaaay down and just kept going. It honestly took everything I had to keep putting one foot in front of the other. I’m eternally grateful to the man near the corner of Plymouth, about two miles from the finish, who was hosing people down as they passed his driveway. I’m also grateful to the many Gang members (especially Janet, Julia, Kristin, and Pat) who kept me going, when, as their trainer, it should have been my job to inspire them. And, as always, I’m grateful to my family (specifically Mom, Dad, Jennie, and Aunt Tracy) who waited and waited (and waited!) for me at the finish line. A couple of long-distance thank yous: to my constant coach, Lisa Ann, and to Justin for listening to every detail of my training, from bad workouts to tiny race-day tank tops. Oh, and a final thank you to Applebee’s for unseasoned french fries for Jennie during the post-race feast!

When I found out that runners were passing out, struggling to cross the finish line, and even being pulled from the course (the whole marathon was eventually shut down at mile 20), it made me feel better about my time. It was a miracle to just to make it to the finish line, and a day later, I’m really starting to appreciate that.

Here’s a quote from Louis L’Amour that seems especially true after yesterday:

There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning.

Pictures to come, if they’re viewable!