Gebre Gebremariam finished today in 2:08:14. I finished today in 2:00:47. Impressive, no? We’ll just overlook the fact that Gebre ran a marathon and I was running a half marathon.
I wasn’t in the mood for my run today. I wasn’t trained, I wasn’t feeling up for the hour and a half drive to get there, and I certainly wasn’t in the mood for a 13.1 mile run. But I did it. Because I am a glutton for punishment. I was so disappointed not to run Chicago this year, that I wasn’t going to let myself miss my annual half marathon. I made it up in my Chicago training to  18 miles, but my podiatrist had given me a brace for my foot and I found when I wore it, my knee would hurt. So I abandoned my marathon dreams for this year. I wrestled with it–what was I trying to prove? It’s not like I haven’t run a marathon before–but it still bothered me. My running became lackluster. Today’s half sucked pretty badly. Some races you run and you think, “This is amazing! I’m strong, I’m powerful, I’m feeling good!” Today all I could think was, “This sucks this sucks this sucks. What the F do I run? This sucks. How much longer?”
The scenery was beautiful, but it was seriously chilly and windy. The tide was so high that the waves crashed onto the street, making for wet toesies. But I just didn’t like it. Not enough to pull a Haile Gebrselassie, who has decided, at five years younger than me, that he’s too old to run. But enough that I’ll be taking a little break from serious running. I need to embrace my strengths. Like drinking. I’m a great drinker. So I’ll stick with that.
