the race

In short: It was awesome. It was challenging. And I'll do it again. (In fact, I've already signed up for the next one.)

In detail: I woke up at 4 a.m., worried that I was going to start too fast and my pace would be off and I wouldn't have enough stamina to finish, worried that maybe I had eaten too much fiber and would be running to the port-a-potty instead of on the course, worried that I might fall back to sleep and then sleep through my alarm and then miss the entire race. Basically, I lay in bed worrying until 5 a.m., which was when my alarm went off.

We left the house at 6:30 a.m. Halfway to SF, I realized my nerves were taking a toll on my bladder, and we had to stop at a gas station. (This turned out to be a very good thing -- the bathroom lines at the race were insanely long, and people were peeing in the bushes.)

I was at the start by 7:30. Sort of emotional at this point because there were so many people (almost 6,000!) and I was overcome by the fact that I had even made it to this point. (Who would've dreamed, right?) Thankfully, Jessa -- who looked like a pro in her Boston Marathon jacket -- was there for moral support. She calmed me down and cheered me on and held my outer layers for me while I was running. She was awesome.

The race started at 8, and it took me about 4-5 minutes to cross the start line because of the sheer number of people. The first six miles were pretty easy -- I kept an eye on my watch and was careful to stick to the pace I wanted. But as soon as the course dumped me out on the Great Highway, I started to get tired. That stretch was just so damn long. And it got hot. I had to grab a cup at every water station. (I need to practice this; most of the water ended up on my shirt instead of in my mouth -- not easy to drink and run!) And I started to wonder if the race would ever end or if I was just going to have to keep running down the stupid highway forever.

(By the way, I've come to the conclusion that running is just one major mindfuck. It's so easy to get totally distracted or overwhelmed by what everyone else is doing and then completely freak yourself out. Every time I saw someone bonk or pull to the side to stretch out a potential injury, I would find myself stressing over whether I was next. And listening to other people's conversations was bizarre, too. One woman talked on and on about every single article of clothing she was wearing. Someone else was checking out all the male runners and picking out who she wanted to hit on -- she actually referred to one guy as "cut ebony." Other people were vowing they would never run this race again. See? Mindfuck.)

Miles 10-12 were sort of brutal because I was getting tired and so were all the people around me. Every time someone stopped running, I was tempted to stop too. But once I got around to the last mile, I realized I still had strength and was able to sprint up the hill to the finish. My time was faster than I had hoped -- 2:23:03 -- about a 10:55 average pace. Not bad for my first race ever.

And now I'm hooked.