13.1 miles = 2:34:13

Virgina Beach was a great time. After fearing that Ernesto may wash out the weekend, it all turned out to be beautiful. It was a good omen when we were in the home stretch of the drive down, crossing the bridge-tunnel thing, that the sun broke through and clouds dispursed. Beautiful.

JS and I arrived at the hotel, where Crazy, SweetPea and SP were waiting. After picking up race packets and taking a nap, we went to dinner to celebrate and carb load for the race. Dinner, carb load, stopped at an arcade to partake of skee ball, Ms. Pac Man, air hockey and shoot 'em up saloon. It's the great joy of winning tickets to turn in for absolutely useless objects (we got 1 large and 2 small superballs, by the way). Great times and fun memories of childhood. After all this fun, we turned in early as gun time was at 7am.

Let me just say that waking up at 5am sucks. No matter what the reason. When the reason is to run a whole lot... makes it much harder. But we were there with a purpose. No crapping out now. Gun time was at 7am, which meant that the elite runners took off at that point. We of the slow corral did not even make it up to the start line until nearly 25 minutes later. Which also meant we knew that, at the point where the course loops back at miles 2 and 8 over the bridge, we would be seeing the leaders heading back before we even made it over the bridge.


It's quite humbling to see that, actually. And at the same quite cool.

My knee began to bother me at mile 2.5. Really, I was hoping that my body would coorperate on race day, and in all of my training, the distance I had been running before my knee began to annoy me had increased. Now it decides to be a bother. I ran through it. It really hurt at points and I walked a lot more of the race than I had hoped. But I kept going. There was nothing that was going to keep me from finishing, even if I had to crawl.

The course passed by the hotel at which we were staying at two points - in front on Atlantic Ave. and behind on the Boardwalk. JS and SP had made signs, and I was really looking forward to seeing the cheering squad. After having lost her earlier in the race, Crazy found me and we passed the hotel at Atlantic at the same time. No cheering squad. I was sad. But we figured that we had estimated the time we would be passing by wrong, since we didn't anticipate the long delay after gun time. Maybe they thought they missed us.

Coming around on the Boardwalk, I was searching for them again. From a distance I saw the signs hung up on the hotel room balcony. I hear my name. YAY! Cheering squad. Quick sweaty kiss and I was off to the finish, which was about 1.5 miles from that point. God, I think that was the longest mile I have ever run. But coming in, seeing the finish line in the distance approaching, I got a burst of energy and crossed the finish strong.

Afterward, well, not so much. It took forever to find each other at the end and even longer to make our way back to the hotel. But after getting off the shuttle bus, we turned the corner to the hotel and saw this on our room door:


That was probably the best thing ever. Made us all laugh out loud.

The rest of the day, I was pretty much useless. After that much stress, my metabolism was all screwed up. And I had a headache that just would not go away. I felt awful about it. I pretty much fell asleep in my lamb chops at dinner.

We're home. I'm achy. I'm sunburnt. My knee feels much better after some heat therapy. I have the personal satisfaction of accomplishing something I've never done before. I have a cool medal to show for my pains.


And I ask myself, would I do it again? In a heartbeat.