i don't have any finish line photos because my insane husband once again decided, without training, to jump into a race. so there went my camera man for my big half-marathon finish.

BUT, the day was gorgeous. no wind, amazing Black Hills scenery. we even saw a herd of elk on our way to the race at 5:45 am. i took it as a good sign. my second good sign was the porta potties. about 30 of them, each with a line of people behind them and not much time. but i got in, gotter done and had about 5 minutes to get up to my spot. i decided to stand in the "9 minute mile" section--call me an optimist. at any rate, i was with my good friend who was running her very first half and my husband, who was running without training. i expected they would both beat me, but i didn't really care. i really really just did not want it to hurt as bad as i remember...kind of like childbirth. you kind of forget until you're on your way to the hospital. then "oh crap...that's right! this part HURTS!!!"

so, onto the race. the course is beautiful and mostly at a slight decline. it felt pretty fast from the start. i was feeling really great until about mile 6, when i hit the most incredible wall. i really felt i wouldn't be able to finish. my partner went ahead, and my husband caught up. i took a walk break, swore NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER again will i run one of these stupid races, and began running again. i'm pretty sure God decided to give me a little boost, because i got the craziest second wind. not only could i keep running, i felt like i was running really fast. i left my husband behind, caught up with my partner, passed her and continued passing people for about 2 miles. then i had to walk again. then i sprinted some more. then i walked. then i sprinted. and so on and so on, in the crazy style that i was trying so hard to avoid. i was berating myself for everything...why can't i just tuff it out and run the whole darn thing? why do i do this crazy fast/slow thing? and why does that girl in front of me have such an incredibly small butt?
and when, oh, when is this torture ever going to end?

and suddenly, there was the finish line. 13. 1 miles. in 2:02:22. my best time ever.

i'm already planning my next race. i will finish in less than 2 hours if it kills me. which it might.
my partner, the stud that she is, finished her race in 1:59. i was so proud i couldn't stop smiling.
and my husband came in a few seconds behind me. i'm sure he did it just to be nice, but i'll take it.

moral of the story: if i can do it, you can do it.