I gave a review of the Griffith Park Half Marathon the other day…but this race deserves a recap of it’s own.
Being married to a soccer ref can have it’s perks – including getting to stay in a swank hotel at the foot of the Getty Museum the night before a race….
I tend to be a lot like Santa with my race prep- making a list and checking it twice, but Saturday was not that day. I showed up disheveled, confused and ill-prepared. My body was achy, sore and tired (sharing a full-bed with a squirmtastic child the night before probably didn’t help). I checked in with the race staff fully prepared to add the “DNF” notch to my lipstick case with the goal of just running 30 minutes.
The first 4 miles didn’t start out so well – 2 untied shoes, a stop to take off my long-sleeve shirt, my hair tie committing suicide by jumping out of my ponytail and off the side of a cliff (thank goodness I had a hat on but I was annoyed no less).
But by mile 5, things were clipping along. Slow and steady I went trying not to aggravate any injuries or fall down the side of a mountain…you know, priorities.
I felt good until about mile 9 when I decided I was kind of done with the whole thing….as I was going up a giant hill. Funny how giant climbs make you go crazy.
Then I spied with my little eye a dude in a kilt and made it my goal to just beat him. I don’t usually run with music, but plugging in a little C&C Music Factory will make anyone sweat and shuffle their feet a little faster.
In my mind everyone was sweating and dancing now, and my little tweaky joints had all but disappeared and I rounded out mile 10ish to find my babies.
Strawberry jumped in to pace me for 0.2 miles and then proceeded to accidentally body check Kilt Dude (KD) which allowed me to start up a conversation with him apologizing for the little bit of chaos. We ran together(isn) for about 2 miles until we hit the big downhill at the end.
By then, I knew any hopes of a mug (curse you, my coffee will never be the same again), were out of reach and the competitive side of me kicked in…but I wanted to race, to compete, to do something to get my endorphin jollies on. So for the last mile I gave myself permission to just take off and made it a 1 mile race.
I had 3 kills in the last mile beating Kilt Dude and two others I had snuck up on as I literally sprinted my way to the finish.
2:02:20 finish (8 min slower than last year)
6th place woman (dropped from 3rd last year)
Are you a fun, casual runner or does your competitive side get you?
What’s the silliest thing you’ve ever run for?
I busted my butt in a 5k this summer to win a mason jar. Don’t ask. And yes I lost it about 27 hours later.