Fall....I've missed you

Yesterday was the first day of fall.  Mother Nature made sure that fall came in with fall-ish temperatures.

Luckily, the first day of fall fell on a Tuesday, which is a running day, so I got to experience an amazing morning for a run.  I love this kind of running.  I have missed the lower humidity and the cooler temperatures.

I met my running buddy at 4:30am...that's the in the morning.  I thought the plan for the day was 50 minutes of 2/1 intervals.  I got the 50 minutes right.  I was supposed to do 30 minutes of 2/1 and 20 minutes of 1/1.  So, did I work harder since I did all 50 minutes at 2/1 because I can't read?

It was brisk, but a little humid when I went out for the morning.  I wore my brand new Saucony Omni shoes for the first time outside.  As usual, the new shoes made it feel like I was running in sand.  The shoes did not provide the speed that I was expecting them too.  (I mean, seriously...my coach wears Sauconys and he is super fast.  I really thought a speed burst came with every pair of $150 running shoes.  I was obviously mistaken.)

Life lesson - I miss my Brooks.  The Sauconys subbed my toes funny.  If that happened after just over 3 miles, I can't imagine how they will feel after 13.....or 26.  So, I will be taking them back to the running store.  I'll try a wide shoe.  We'll play that game.

I didn't go back to sleep after my early run.  I scoured the internet to see if I could find my beloved Brooks in my size.  The new model just isn't the same.  I can't find them in surfboard size....only in little sizes.

I'm going to figure this shoe thing out.  But, until I do, I am going to love these cooler temperatures.  Hopefully they stick around for another week so I can crush my race next weekend!

Heart of Ghent 10K

There is a lot that has to happen in the next three months.  It's all scary.  It's going to be hard.  It's going to hurt.  I am probably going to sit down in the middle of it and refuse to get back up.  There will probably be tears.

But, one day, I will be able to look back and see how far I have come.  It's been a rough year for running.  My reality cracked a little this spring and my training suffered.  It was a hard spring and running became a job, not a joy.  It got hard.  I got slower.  I didn't look forward to it.  I forgot why I liked to run. Then things changed....in life and in running. I got a coach to help me reach some goals.  I started to enjoy it again.  But, I wasn't seeing any progress.  I started to think that there was no way I was going to be able to do it.  I thought I had set my sights too high.

Coach told me to find a shorter distance to race.  We found a local 10K that I had never run before.

We set a race plan.  Then, I asked him if we could change it a little.  He agreed.  I knew that I needed a 1:14 finish time to show that I have a chance of reaching my goal pace.  I knew that because I have been here before.  A 10K (6.2 miles) is a distance that can predict a half marathon time.  It's a distance that you can use to submit a time for a RunDisney race.  I am well acquainted with that requirement.  I just didn't think I could do it.  I haven't been close in a long time.

I got downtown to the race about an hour early.  I found a great parking spot and hooked up with some friends.  I saw Coach on the way to the start.  We talked about the race plan and if I felt like I had it in me for the day.  I assured him that I did.  I tried something new and exciting at this race.  I ran before it started.  Yep...I was that person that normal people look at and think, "Why are you running before you have to run?"  Apparently, a warm-up run (only 5 minutes...not too long and not too fast) makes you run faster during the race.  Don't worry...I questioned the logic myself when I was already a little sweaty before the race even started.

So, a few minutes before the start time, the race director announced that there would be a short delay.  I was on a time crunch and really couldn't afford the delay.  (Kid #3 had a 9:30 soccer game.  The race started at 8 and was about 20 minutes away from the game.  On a perfect day, I had just enough time to run and get to the game on time.)  It was going to be close.

At 8:10, the race started and we were off.  Coach warned me that there would be lots of turns in the first 3 miles.  There were.  The plan was to try 90 second/30 second run/walk intervals.  I ran the first 1/2 mile or so until the crowds thinned out and then I started the intervals.  For the first 3 miles, this worked out really well.  90 seconds was long enough to get some speed (relative...speed is relative) and some distance, but not so long that I was willing the watch to beep.  At the beginning, 30 seconds was just long enough to recover and be ready to run again.  As I kept going, it got harder to recover in 30 seconds, but I stuck with it.  Somewhere along the way, I noticed that my Garmin wasn't matching the mile markers on the course.   I was hitting the mile markers about 1/4 mile before the Garmin did.   I kept plugging away and made the turn for the final 1/2 mile or so before the finish line.  Coach had said to try 2/:30 intervals at the end of the race if it was feeling good.  It wasn't feeling good, but I did it anyway.  I had something to prove.

I crossed the finish line at 1:14:37.  I had done it!  (Aside....the course was 1/4 mile short.  We took a wrong turn somewhere.  I probably would have been in the area of 1:17 for a true 10K.  Either way, I pretty much crushed that race.)

The course was nice, but not much to write home about.  It was through city streets.  There were some pretty moments, but nothing I would consider "scenic."  There were a few wrinkles - the late start, the short course to name a few - but they were communicated and well handled by the race director.  Things go wrong.  It happens. Packet pick up was seamless.  There was amazing support on the course.  Not a ton of spectators, but over 100 volunteers at street corners making sure that everyone was doing okay.  There were 3 water stops, which were more than enough.  There were also bands situated along the course, which is always nice.  (Side note...the heavy metal band right outside the Opera House made me chuckle....it just didn't fit.  But, I appreciated them being out there.)  There was a cute medal and an amazing after party.  The vibe was great.  I am looking forward to next year.

Next up is the Crawling Crab.  It's the goal race for the fall.  It's the race I have been training for.  After the Crab, all focus goes to the marathon. I'm not sure what's going to happen.  I just know that I've got to give it everything I have for 13.1 miles.  :)  2 weeks left!

The One Where I Became "That" Parent

It probably happened the minute I had children.  June 6, 2007, I became "that" parent....the one that asks questions instead of blindly signing...the one that makes sure the homework is done and is right....the one who looks at every paper in the weekly folder and reviews the mistakes.....the one who emails the teacher to stay on the same page....the one who the teachers talk about in the teachers' lounge....

I have spent years (disjointed years, but years nonetheless) in a classroom.  I have seen "THOSE" kids and I have worked with "THOSE" parents.  Don't pretend you don't know what I am talking about.  The kids who have behavior concerns.  The parents that don't care.  The kids that struggle, no matter what you do.  The parents that are in your face every day.  I have seen our public school system shift from a focus on teaching to a focus on testing.  I have seen amazing teachers leave the profession because of the unrealistic demands and expectations that have nothing to go with teaching children.  I have seen class sizes almost double to the point of having 30 kids in a classroom.  Luckily, I understand and respect the hard job that the classroom teachers have.  I mean, they have 22...24...28...kids, all with different needs that have to be met.

This is where it happens.  This is where I become "THAT" parent.  The PITA parent.  You see, I understand that there are 22...24...28 kids in the class.  I understand how the teacher is trying to juggle everybody and everything.  But, I don't care.  I only care about one kid in that class...mine.  And, mine is pretty special.  Mine needs a little extra attention.   I jumped through the hoops to make that happen.  I checked the boxes, got them tested, tried the suggestions, and then signed on the dotted line.  I thought they every teacher is like me.  Every teacher teaches the kids in front of her....meets the needs that arise.

I was wrong.

I spent a year fighting for child #2.  I was seeing behaviors in that kid that I hadn't seen in years.  I fought every.single.day.  I put my foot down.  I refused to sign the paperwork.  I insisted on something new...something different.  I said no.  I fought to help my kid survive the year....survive...not excel.  There came a point where we both just wanted it to be over so we could start over.  I was ready to homeschool.  I mean ready.  I was planning lessons in my head.  I refused to let my child start school until I had a face to face meeting with the teacher.  It happened and I knew everything would be okay.

Then school started.  Child #2 is doing wonderfully!  He is brilliant and happy.  We are calm and happy at home.

Now I have to focus on Child #1.  Fourteen days into the school year and he is struggling academically like I have never seen before. Every day I question the problem.  Child #1 is an amazing kid.  He tells stories and answers questions.  He is sweet and smart and funny.  His grades are not reflecting his intelligence.  So, I started asking why.   Every single note to the teacher yields a response.  She is attentive and on it.  I don't think this is going to be a fight like last year, but it is going to be a conversation.  A constant conversation.

I found myself picking apart the graded assignments.....nitpicking for every point on the page.  It was the difference between a passing grade and a borderline grade.  I hated the feeling of doing it.  I had a note written to the teacher.  I couldn't send it.  I didn't want to be "THAT" parent.  I sent an email instead, asking for a conference soonish.  The teacher agreed.  (No complaints about the teacher.  We are loving it so far!)  So, next week we start the conversation about what he needs and how to give it to him.  I think it is going to be a year-long discussion.  I think we are going to have to change some things and add the dreaded ADHD diagnosis to the IEP.  I am probably going to sit at the table and refuse to medicate.  I might even cry.

But I am not going to back down.  If being "THAT" parent means fighting for your kids and making sure that they have everything they need to be successful, then that's me.  I know the language and I know the game.  My kids aren't going to get lost in the shuffle or fall through the cracks.

I am thankful every single day that my preemie twins are happy and healthy 7 year old boys.  They run and play.  They do not have any physical complications from their prematurity or hospitalization.  Their complications are a little less obvious.  They "look" normal.  They "sound" normal.  Until they are not normal.  Until the littlest thing sends #2 into a fit.  Until a bug snaps #1's attention and he forgets what he was supposed to be doing.  They are different and they are special.  Most importantly...they are mine....and I am going to do whatever I have to do to make sure they are successful.

Back in the groove

As usual, things are crazy here!  We are settling in to a new kind of normal as we begin this school year.

First, the big boys are in second grade.

This bothers me on SO many levels.  I taught second grade.  I know what is expected of a second grader.  I am in disbelief that my little tiny preemie babies are ready for that.  I mean, I know that they are smart enough and prepared enough for the academic demands of second grade.  Their teachers and I have made sure of that, but they are so little.  How can they be big, independent, reading, writing, double-digit adding kids?  My heart broke a little on the first day of school.

Second, Joshua is in a new preschool. 

After a whole bunch of stuff and no spot at our number one choice, he is starting at a school that was wonderful to our family with the big boys a few years ago.  It's been a great first two weeks and we are looking forward to this year....provided he doesn't get kicked out of school for being a bit of a troll.  

Where did this little, snuggly baby go?  He's already three and learning his "leggers."  I can't wait to see how much he learns this year.

Finally, I a settling in to my new role as mom/trophy wife/marathoner in training.

 It's different.  I haven't volunteered for anything during the days.  I am spending some much needed days in my house and on my couch after a rough year last year.  I am doing some (and by some....I mean only some) cleaning and purging and organizing.  I am doing a lot of reading and snuggling when little man is home.  Mostly, I am doing some running.  Mondays and Thursdays I get up EARLY and run before everyone gets up.  Tuesdays, I run after I drop little man off at preschool.  It's my favorite hour of the week.  I can just run.

Hopefully I will settle into a cleaning schedule sooner rather than later.  I need to make an appointment or two and I desperately need to get my hair done.  But, we are settling in.  Things are calmer here already.  We are happier.....I am happier.  I could get used to this!

13 Years later

I woke up this morning and almost forgot the significance of this day.  (In my defense, I woke up at a little before 4 to go run, then came home and went back to bed.)  I got my big kids off to school and settled in for the morning snuggles with the baby.  I had picked out my picture for my Facebook page to remember the day.  I read the memories that my friends had shared. I took a minute to remember where I was and what I was doing.  I said a prayer for those who were lost and those who survived as well as one of thanks for the life I have.  Then I opened the local newspaper.

There was a picture on the far left side of the paper with a note that said to turn to page 6 for more coverage.  Page 6.  That's past the important stuff and almost to the local news.  It's been 13 years...only 13 years and the horrors and fear and the bravery and the patriotism was on page 6.  Is this how my grandparents felt after Pearl Harbor?  A turning point in the history of a generation was regulated to page 6?

I remember exactly the minute I heard what had happened.  I was sitting in class at William and Mary, learning how to be a teacher.  We had finished the first of the two back-to-back classes and the first professor came rushing back into the room to tell us that one of the twin towers had collapsed.  My classmates were in shock and many started crying.  The ones from the north could not get through to reach their families, so I called my mom to try and figure out what had happened.  At that point, not much was really known.  The professor called everyone back to order and tried to keep teaching.  As you can imagine, that did not work out so well.  She finally let us go.  I rushed back to my dorm room to turn on the news to try and figure out what had happened and what was still happening.  Then I had to do one of the most difficult things I have ever done.

I got into my car and I drove across town to the elementary school where I was student teaching.  I walked in with no idea what they knew and what they had told the students.  The principal had ordered all televisions in the building be kept off for the day.  The teachers had heard something had happened, but they knew very little.  They had to keep teaching, having no clue that the world as we knew it was over.

The next day was even harder.  All of those kids had gone home and seen the news or talked to their parents.  They came to school with questions and the teachers were left with the overwhelming job of comforting the youngest Americans.   Most parents have no idea how much damage control occurred at school in the days following the attacks.

Fast forward to this morning.  My second graders when to school in a baby blue shirt for one and neon green for the other.  No red, white, or blue for them.  They got on the bus having no idea that people across the nation are mourning for those lost in the Pentagon, the Twin Towers, and the airplanes that were hijacked.  The will never, I can only hope, understand the fear and the sadness that America felt that day.  Yes, there are books that were written to help children process the tragedy, but today's elementary school kids will never understand.

There have been hashtags reminding us to #neverforget and replays of the newscasts from that day.  But, what will the lead story on the news tonight be?  Something has happened in the last 13 years.   We forgot.  We forgot what it was like to watch those huge structures crumble and spread debris through the streets of New York City.  We forgot the images of a hole in the side of the Pentagon.  We forgot the pride that we felt through the sadness when we heard the voice messages from Flight 93.  "Let's roll" has lost some of its power.  We forgot what it is like to come together as Americans.  The Boston Marathon Bombings reminded us....a little.  But then, we were Boston Strong, not America Strong.  The paper flags aren't hanging in windows anymore.  There is a new World Trade Center.  Warships with steel from the towers are off on new missions, many of the youngest sailors oblivious to the significance of the ship.

When my kiddos get home from school, I am going to hug them a little tighter today.  I am going to let them enjoy their blissful innocence as long as I can because one day, something will happen that shows them how ugly the world can be.  One day, when they are old enough, I will explain the significance of this day.  I will tell them where I was and how I felt.....one day.

...two in the bush

This weekend brought us to one of the most beautiful destination races of this 50 State journey.  We were in Bird-in-Hand, Pennsylvania in Lancaster County in the heart of Amish Country.  Because Lancaster is also home to train mecca, the entire family came on this adventure. This is a jam-packed recap, so get ready!

We drove up Friday morning in order to get to the 5K that evening.  We pulled into the race start/finish line party/packet pick up at about 2:30 in the afternoon.  I went through the 5K line to pick up my 5K AND Half bibs.  (Quick pause here...the race organizers made this super easy.  One stop shopping....got both bibs in an envelope.  There were stickers on the outside of the envelope to show the shirt line.)  The volunteer firemen were on hand to help with packet pick up.  Most of the volunteers were Amish.  Started the weekend off right!!

After I picked up my bibs, I went and got my shirts.  Personally, I am tired of the neon green that is so popular this year, so I like the dark blue 5K shirt a little more than the half shirt.  Both shirts are tech, so that's a bonus.  The Fireman Challenge shirt is long sleeved and cotton, so I will be looking forward to wearing that soon...whenever fall decides to make an appearance!  My family was getting hot and cranky, so they headed back to the car while I went over to the table to meet the key note for the weekend.

I read this book once a year.  It makes me think I do things like run a marathon....

Christopher McDougall was SO NICE!  A girl came up behind me who had met him earlier in the evening.  She had mentioned that she just got off the waiting list and couldn't find a hotel.  He offered to let her stay at his house.  No, I mean, seriously.  He meant it.  I love the running community!

Of course, I forgot my well-read, well-loved copy of his book, so I had him sign the next best thing....

We took the boys to see some trains until it was time to head back to the field for the Pasta Party and 5K.  The 5K was scheduled to start at 6:30, but the Pasta Party started at 5.  It was hot, so I wasn't sure what to do.  I opted to eat with my family and hope I didn't throw up.  For $11 a person, we got spaghetti, meatballs, garlic bread, salad, pizza, drinks, and the best desserts EVER.  I took it easy, but got my customary pre-half salad and spaghetti.  I also ate my homemade apple pie with ice cream.  Then I started regretting my decision.....like I said, it was hot!

After dinner, we did some people watching.  It was so amazing to see typical runners, in their bright colored spandex, mingling with Amish runners in their traditional clothes...some with running shoes and some barefoot.  Families were everywhere.  Just before the race started, hot air balloons started floating into the sky.

Didn't mean to get the Amish man in the picture...

At about 6:15, my BRF (who came up solo and met my circus at the Pasta Party) and I went to the shortest lined, cleanest porta potties and then went to the starting line.  There was very little fanfare at the beginning.  There were pace signs to help the runners line up.  BRF and I headed to the back of the pack.  The race started and I just said a little prayer that I would not throw up my pasta dinner.  The race plan was to have fun, so that's what I set out to do.  I started my iPod and set it to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir singing "Simple Gifts."  Not the world's best running song, but for that evening, it fit.  I crossed the starting line and ran for just about the first mile.  It was quiet and peaceful and we were running past Amish families who were there in droves to support the runners.  They were not yelling and clapping or ringing cowbells or holding signs, but they were there.  It wasn't my best 5K, but in the heat and after dinner, I was happy with my performance.  I had fun, and that is what I was supposed to do!  Double bonus points that I kept my dinner down!

After the race we headed to our caboose.  Yep, our caboose.  When you have 3 little boys and a big boy who are obsessed with trains, if sleeping in a caboose in an option, you are sleeping in a caboose.

The morning came and my BRF kindly came to pick me up and we headed back to the starting line.  The race started at 7:30, but we got there at a little after 6.  After traffic nightmares on country roads in Leesburg last year and a note in the pre-race instructions to bring patience, we weren't taking any chances!  We had an up-front parking spot and we got to enjoy the scenery.

Again, the best porta potty situation I have ever seen.  Not only were the lines short and the insides clean, every single one had motivation taped to the wall.

And then, it was time to get in line.  As we were heading over to the road for the start, we saw this guy:

Haha, super funny....little did I know....

So, to set up the scene for this morning:  it is NOT a crisp fall day in Amish Country.  Instead, it is summer....much like Rock and Roll last week in Virginia Beach.  It was already warm and humid and the temperature was only going to go up.....

We started with the Amish buggy in the lead.  (I did not see this as I was so far back, but I heard about it.)  I started with "Simple Gifts" again and began the most beautiful race I have ever run.   The race plan was to start with 1:1 intervals because of the weather, walk up the hills, and adjust at mile 8.  

I'll get the reality out of the way.  It was hot, it got hotter.  There was no shade....ever.  A breeze finally kicked up at about mile 8, but by then I already wanted to kick something and steal an Amish kid's scooter.  It was hot and I am tired of being hot.  Because I was hot, I was slow.  The slower I was, the hotter it got.  Do you see the pattern?  It was not my finest hour.  I cried for the entire last mile because I was so done.  I wanted to kick something.  It was ugly.  I gave up the plan right about mile 7.  The plan changed to finish on my feet and not in an ambulance.

Now, here's the biggest difference between this race and Rock and Roll from last weekend.....I am ready to sign up TODAY to do this race again.  Even with the hills....and I hate hills.  

The Bird in Hand Half Marathon benefits the local volunteer fire department.  Because of that, the community had a vested interest in its success and does everything they can to support the race and the runners.  All of the water stops are manned by Amish families.  (The kids are just adorable.  They stand there, almost singing "Water, Water.")  The parents are there, but the kids are on the front lines.   Most water stops are in front of the family's home or in front of an Amish school.  Because of the heat, there were a couple of extra water stops thrown in.  There were coolers of ice between the water stops, especially near the end.  At about mile 11, an Amish farmer provided cups of Rita's Italian Ice.  The kids would bring a cup and run about 100 yards to hand you the cup, then run back and get another one.  By the time you got to the table, your cup was done and you could grab another.  Entire families (we are talking 15-20 people) would come to the corner of the land and watch the runners go by.  There was no clapping or yelling, but they were there in support of their community.  The entire feeling was just indescribable!

On top of all of the support, there were the views! 

Yes, it was hilly, but at the top of the hill at mile 7 (which was by far the steepest uphill on the course), we were rewarded with this:

Seriously...at the bottom of the hill I thought I was hallucinating from heat stroke.  When was the last time you saw a camel on your run??  (Do you also see the sweet little hats??  This was a water stop too!)

I would hear the clopping of horse hooves as a buggy came up behind me.  I heard mooing and bugs.  I saw corn (lots of corn....lots and lots of corn).  I saw laundry hung between houses and barns.  

Finally, after too many hours, I got to the finish line, crossing at a personal worst clock time, but a personal best experience!

My family was waiting for me at the finish.  I got my hugs, kisses, and high fives and then I got the most amazing medal I have ever seen.

Hand crafted by an Amish blacksmith.  Every single one is different.

And, you know, no matter how hard that race was or how much I wanted to punch running in the face for about 5 miles, it all comes back to this:

See you next year Bird-in-Hand!

Vella Shpringa - "Let's Run!"

Rocking and Rolling...or not.....

I did something that I swore that I would NEVER do.  I ran the whole Virginia Beach Rock and Roll Half Marathon.  Let's talk about that for a minute.  This is a 13.1 mile race (crazy enough....) in Virginia Beach (not so crazy) on Labor Day weekend (INSANE!).  After a mild summer, temperatures and humidity levels sky rocketed just in time for race weekend.

I said I would never do it.  I said that only crazy people run 13.1 miles in Virginia on Labor Day weekend.  I said to have fun and that I would see everyone at the end.  I said no.....and then I saw this:

You KNOW what a sucker I am for a cute medal.  Then there was a "sale" and I was in.  I needed a race in August to meet my 14 in '14 goal.  I know, I know.....

So, it gets better.  Then the race company (Competitor Group) announced this:

Of course, there would have to be an extra medal for completing both races.  I love me some bling, so I signed up for the Mile too.  Yep, that seemed like a good idea at the time.

Fast forward to the last weekend in August.  Mile in the Sand day is a little sticky, but there is a breeze off the water and it's cloudy which are keeping the day decent.  We all gather on the sand...the loose sand.....the sand where it is hard to run....and get started.  Before I even crossed the starting line, the winner (who just happens to by my coach!) was finishing after about 5 minutes of work.  When I finally crossed the starting line, I tried to run for about 3 steps and determined that a smarter choice would be to just walk.  22 long, uncomfortable minutes later, I finished walking the mile in the sand, with half of the beach in my shoes.  (For reference, I can do 17 minute miles with my children......whining the entire way.)  Luckily, I had great company and we had a lot of fun.  Just for reference, a mile in the sand is no joke.

The next morning, I got up super early to pick up some friends (both doing their first races - a half and a 5K!), walked into my living room, and almost went right back to bed.  My living room windows were SO fogged up by the humidity that I knew it was going to be a rough day.  But, when the going gets tough, the tough get into the car and drive to the shuttle.

[The shuttle was an experience all its own.  There were 8 of us in the group and it was 5:15am.  We were loud and I bet everyone on that shuttle hated us.  The heat was on.  WHAT?  Who puts the heat on in August??  It was nice to get off the shuttle!]

We got to the Virginia Beach Convention Center for the race start.  We hit the porta potties then went to find all of the groups for the 4 pictures I needed to be in.  I found the RC3 Coaches for a quick pep talk and then it was time to hit the porta potties again and head to the corrals.  It was HOT and sticky already and I knew that it was going to be a rough day.

My race plan was to alternate miles of 1/1 intervals and 2/2 intervals.  I ran about 3/4 of a mile until the crowds thinned out and then started the 1/1s.  It felt okay....hot, but okay.  At mile 2, my friend and I started the 2/2 intervals.  We LOVED the 2 minutes of walking, but the 2 minutes of running was hard work.  We made it a little less than the mile on the plan and switched back to 1/1 until the 5K split.  By then, I was soaked with sweat and was starting to get hot.  Once I get hot like that, I can't cool myself off.  My friend and I decided to throw in the towel.  For the next 10 miles, we walked.  (Quite honestly, we were walking at a decent clip - 16 minute miles until about mile 8 and then we slowed down to 17 minute miles)  We went past a water stop manned by our Moms Run This Town friends, which was a great pick me up.  Mostly, it was just hot and miserable.  I wanted to kiss the water stop at about mile 9 that had ice in the Gatorade.  I almost did kiss the people handing out popsicles, even for the back of the pack, at mile 11.

I really had fun with my friend Michelle.  Even under the worst conditions, we have a great time together.  We stopped for a beer stop at mile 5-ish (and she stopped again at mile 10).  We talked to complained with people around us along the way.  We chatted and laughed.  It was fun-ish.

As for the running part of this social event - not my best showing.  I can be proud that I finished.  I can be proud that I moved forward for 13.1 miles instead of sitting on the sidewalk and waiting for my husband to come pick me up.  I can be proud that I refrained from giving the photographers the finger for my finisher picture (Not my original idea, but I was totally going to go with it.)  I can be proud that I am heading to another starting line this weekend.

I am going back to my original position though.  I will NEVER do this race again.  I do not care how cute the medal is.  I do not care that it's only $45 until tomorrow.

I came....I sweated...I walked.....I conquered.  Take that Rock and Roll Virginia Beach!!

Next up - the Bird in Hand Half in Pennsylvania!!