I ran a half marathon today. The whole thing. I've only ever completed a 10K race before, and I only got up to 7 miles in my training for this event before the summer heat and life's happy distractions derailed my training schedule. So I was definitely not conditioned for this, but I decided to participate and do my best, and probably walk a good deal of it.
At the start, I thought I'd run the first 5K or so, and then switch to run/walk intervals. Once I finished that distance, I decided to go a little further and shoot for 5 miles running. Then half the race. Then I thought I'd aim to best my previous longest run of 7 miles. Then I figured it would be awesome if I could run 10 miles. And then... I just decided that I was going for the whole damn thing.
My knee started to ache a bit around mile 5, and by mile 10 it was truly painful. But by then I was too close to give up, so I used the long-sleeved underarmour shirt that was tied around my waist as a knee brace, tied around my leg at the knee for some makeshift Macgyver'd support. And through sheer will and determination, I gritted my teeth and kept going, ignoring the pain as best as I could, and counting off the remaining miles.
When I came around the last curve and saw the finish line, I was surprised by how emotional I became. I started crying, and that's how the photographer snapped my image as I crossed the line - arms raised in triumph, my shirt wrapped around my knee, and tears on my cheeks.
13.1 miles. Wow.
I guess I really *can* do anything I set my mind to.
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