Oh the Prairie Fire Half Marathon. I had been alternately dreading and anxiously awaiting this day for the past 6 months. Last Fall, I had been training for a half marathon but got seriously sidelined with an IT band injury (if you haven't had one, it feels like everything from your hip to your knee cap is going to snap from tightness and it makes your knee caps pop pretty painfully). I worked my way back over the winter and thanks to some amazing running divas/mentors/friends, I was race day ready.
No one expected the high to be 100 degrees on May 4th. I was hydrating like CRAZY in the days prior and driving my husband insane with my constant babble about how nervous I was.
What if I quit again like I did during a training run at 11.7 miles?
What if it's windy?
What if I fall?
Is it ok to start crying at mile 8? I will definitely be crying by mile 12.
What if my knee injury comes back?
What should I wear?
The morning of:
I know I am smiling, but inside I wanted to throw up from nerves.
The race went pretty well, all things considered; certainly not the fastest I could have gone, but I wasn't about to push it with the heat/humidity/wind combo Kansas delivered me that day. I laced my shoes too tightly and had to stop at mile 4 because my foot went numb, but after that was fixed I had full feeling in my feet. I stopped at EVERY SINGLE WATER STATION because it was crazy hot. I tried to to smile for the cameras, but mostly it looked like a grimace. My knee held out (PRAISE ALL THINGS HOLY!) and I was able to cross that big, beautiful finish line in under 2 hours (1:58:42 to be exact), which had been my only goal going in to this race.
My incentive package from my running girls was also helping me keep up my 9 minute mile pace. You can put one foot in front of the other when you know double stuff golden oreos (my personal fave) are on the line.
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