I know that 99.9% of the world couldn’t care less about other people’s races, but that’s not going to stop me from telling the world about my race yesterday. You can already guess that it was a glorious event, otherwise instead of writing this post, I’d be weeping quietly in the corner eating chocolate until I felt sick.
To put it simply, I ran my best race in 8 years. Eight – Long – Years. That’s an amazing comeback considering the disastrous race I had in June which had me seriously prepared to stop running – forever.
It takes a special kind of crazy to get up at 5:30 on a dark Sunday morning in October to queue with almost 15,000 other runners for 45 minutes in 3C / 37F temperatures to run a long distance race. On a positive note, it wasn’t raining. Far ahead of me in the faster corrals were my husband, my oldest son, and two of my “adopted” sons. One of them – Dempsey – would successfully run his first marathon (42.2km / 26.2 miles).
By the time some people were just starting to get their day moving, all five of us were celebrating at the finish line – each of us having had a great run. However, to put my accomplishment in perspective, I should mention that of the 10,513 people running the Toronto Waterfront Half Marathon, I finished in 9,977th place. I’m ok with that – I’m in my happy place.