Annnnd over a week later, I finally get around to recapping my first half marathon. October is always super busy for me because I take Halloween very—and I mean VERY—seriously. It involves hand-making at least three costumes, but this year, it’s even more out of hand because I’ll be in Vegas for part of the celebrations (more on that later). But enough of the blah-blah-I’m-busy-blah-blah excuses. I suck at blogging five days a week, I admit it.
My first half marathon was great. Despite some misty rain at the start of the race and some intense wind when running along the Newport shoreline, the temperature was perfect for running, and I had a lot of fun. It’s strange using the word “fun” to describe running 13.1 miles on a Sunday morning, but I really did enjoy myself. Maybe because I ran behind a guy in a yellow Power Ranger suit the whole time. That certainly helped.*
Given the sluggishness I had been feeling in the last few weeks of training, I wasn’t excepting a great time come race day. My goal was to finish under 2 hours and 10 minutes, and even that seemed like a challenge. So, you’ll imagine my pleasant surprise when my official time started off with a “1.” I finished in under two hours!
Now, the hilarious part of this personal victory is that when I say I finished in under two hours, I mean by eight seconds. Literally. Talk about cutting it close. But, hey, I’ll take it. Breaking two on my first half marathon is something I’m proud of, whether it was by eight minutes or eight seconds.
As someone who lifeguarded for five summers and is moderately creepy, I’ve grown to love people-watching. And, wow, the half marathon did not disappoint. I need distractions while running—music, pretty scenery, etc.—or else I get extremely bored and call it a day after a couple miles. And I was so enthralled by silently judging checking out everyone’s running wardrobe choices that I don’t think I even realized I was running a half marathon until mile 10.
First off, I was shocked and appalled at how many skorts I saw. Hey, different strokes for different folks—I’m sure there are tons of skort wearers out there who find my neon green sneakers repulsive. I get it. But skorts cause my eyes physical pain. I think I stared at one for too long as a young child, and that’s why I needed to get glasses in the fifth grade. Apparently I’m in the minority though because I saw leopard skorts, pleated skorts, plaid skorts, metallic skorts and every other variety you can imagine. The first five miles, I played a game where every time I saw someone ahead of me in a skort, I had to pass them. It was great until I realized there were so many skorts in the race I’d surely burn out before 13.1.
Before this post turns into an all-out tirade against the skirt-short hybrid, I’ll wrap it up by explaining the lack of pictures in this post. Not ONE SINGLE race photo was captured of me. It’s the bulliest of bullshit. I was so excited when photos from the race were posted online, I enter in my bib number, and you know what comes up? Three vague photos of people who don’t even remotely resemble me or my bib number crossing the finish line. Womp womp wommmmp. When I run my next half marathon (in June), my goal is to be the ultimate photo-bomber. Professional race photographers, innocent bystanders—it doesn’t matter. If you are holding a camera, I will force myself into your picture. Beware.
Hope everyone had a great weekend!
*Obviously the Power Ranger beat me. I mean, c’mon, he’s a Power Ranger.
{welcome to pumps & iron, a jumble of fitness, fashion, life and beer.}
