2:02:04, the best 45 seconds of which involved stopping to plant a kiss on my girl.
Yep, this means I beat my (admittedly totally arbitrary) time goal of 2:04:25 by more than 2 minutes. If we’re going to operate in the spirit of full disclosure, however, I must confess that I’d really hoped to bring it home under 2 hours. And in the spirit of full-full disclosure, I must confess that I might have gone out a little fast and found myself chasing a 1:55 until about the halfway mark. Ah, newfound wisdom I’ve supposedly gained since becoming a mom – where were you this morning?!
Still, I have no regrets about chasing an aggressive goal – except maybe for that brief, totally delusional period where I ran the first 3k in about 15 minutes (!) – since it means I know I left everything out there, and am still the same Beastie Boys-loving, pace-bunny-hunting, racing fool I used to be. And, for all I like to believe in race-day miracles, where the speed fairies descend from the heavens to plant kisses on my shoes that make me capable of running about a minute faster per kilometer than I did in training, in reality, you get the race you train for, and today was no exception. I raced as hard as I could on the training I’d done, and when I started to bleed time in the second half, rather than becoming discouraged or panicked about my tiring legs, I turned my thoughts to seeing my husband, my baby girl and my best friend waiting for me at the 20k mark. I actually felt a weird relief when the 2 hour bunny finally passed me, since it meant I wouldn’t feel rushed stopping to hug and smooch them. After all, no time goal can trump seeing little Alex beaming at me from her Baby Bjorn, with an expression that clearly meant, “I have no idea where you came from or what you’re doing, but I sure am glad to see you, Mom! Hey, what do you MEAN you’re not stopping to feed me? You better run, woman!”