Another Half Marathon Bites the Dust

This past Sunday was long awaited, and one literally long sweat over too. It's been more than three months since I've arranged my life around a schedule which accommodates half marathon training - squeezing in 10 mile runs on Christmas Day, and hitting the unfamiliar streets of San Francisco for an eight miler over a weekend visit. A personality like mine doesn't take well to missing days of predetermined training, or doing things not according to schedule. But even so, I found when the PF Chang's Rock N Roll Arizona Half Marathon arrived on my doorstep this past weekend, it was a mix of shock and bewilderment - a "how is it here already?" - and also, great excitement met with intense pressure.

On race morning, all of these emotions seemed to have settled into my stomach as I waited behind 10 racers for the porta potty, and simultaneously, as I heard the gun sound, releasing the first racer corral. I was in Corral Six, but of course, wasn't in place since I was waiting for the slowest bathroom occupants known to mankind to do their business. What is taking these ass holes so long in there? I actually scanned the area for any Plan B possibilities - anything larger than me should suffice. But no, there were people everywhere. I'd never make it out unscathed. Several agonizing minutes later and facilities serviced, I was a panicked, frantic woman joining my corral seconds before they released us into the half marathon abyss. I snapped a quick overhead shot, and as the crowds thinned, eased into a jog.

Not the best way to start a race.

I had convinced myself the cold was my biggest hurdle for this race, and yet no more than one mile in, I was flinging my gloves off in the general direction of the homeless spectators. Another half mile, and a less than elegant attempt to unwind myself from my scarf resulted in my headphones being ripped from my ears. Again, I launched the scarf into the sea of anxious homeless recipients' hands, stuffed the earbuds back into my ears, reacquainted myself with my brilliantly selected start song - Eminem, Lose Yourself - and at last, put my race face on. (For those of you that know me, and have seen me run - this is a real face.) How had I become so convinced that I'd freeze? It's Phoenix, RB.

The majority of the next two hours were a blur. I remember course-side bands, high school cheerleaders building pom pom tunnels, hills, flourescent tutus and otherwise inappropriate race attire, beaming spectators with glittery signs and the glory of the first sight of the finish line.

While this might have been my second half marathon, it was the first undertaking I embarked upon alone. An overly social creature I indeed am, this was quite the achievement. The goal time was 2:00.00, and I couldn't have hit it closer - finish time of 1:59:24.

More pictures to ensue. It's quite safe to say my running days are just getting started.