Picture of My Running Group

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This is my beloved Off-N-Running group. Or most of them. A few were out of town or hadn't yet signed in. This is a  group photo taken before the start of Saturday's Cannonball Run 1/2 marathon. I mentioned I ran most of the race with three people. That would be Pam on the far left (in the snazzy blue outfit), Louie standing next to her in the red jacket, and Jennifer, who is crouched below me in the black shirt.

We only have a few more weeks of formal training together. There is talk of all of us still continuing to meet and run together and I really hope we do. It's amazing how quickly I've become attached to a group of people I never laid eyes on only months before. And hurray for Amanda (crouched in the pink and white jacket) for having someone take this group photo of all of us.

I love my running partners!

Cannonball Run

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Today was the Cannonball Run half-marathon in Greensboro. Almost every member of my running group participated, which made it extra fun. We cheered and high-fived each other on the course as we passed.

I had what must be described as the best run of my life. The 13.1 miles flew by. I never felt tired, never felt winded, never felt "Dear God, when will this misery end?" In fact, the last 3-4 miles were my strongest.  A huge help was that I ran the majority of the race with 3 people from my group - Jennifer, Louie, and Pam. We kept each other on pace (meaning we mainly kept reminding each other to "slow down")  for most of the race until we split up and each did our own thing at the end.

My time was 1:55:25, an 8:49 pace. I am thrilled. Last year when I first started running and was averaging a 10-minute pace I remember thinking, "I would be so happy if I could ever run a 9-minute pace. " And now that I've done it, I am happy. I'm also thinking, "I would be so happy if I could ever run an 8:30 pace." 

One of my friends pointed at his left shoe after the race. It was blood-soaked. Blisters formed and popped and he still finished the race in 2 hours. That's devotion. Or as Blair refers to it, insanity.

Overall, an immensely satisfying day.

First Blood

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I'm an official trail runner. On Wednesday, I took my my first tumble and slammed my left knee into the dirt hard enough to draw blood. My running partners were elated. "Don't brush off the blood, don't brush off the blood," exclaimed one. "Wait until we get back to the car to photograph it."  (Which we did. Michael--where's my photo??) =)

I showed Blair the bloody knee. "Stop running!" he said. "You're picking off body parts one by one."  He's referring to the fact that I've also lost my first toenail (I know, gross), a common runner malady, plus the blisters and soreness that send me hobbling around the house. Sometimes I feel like Quasimodo, lurching around from room to room.  Blair asks why I do this and I leer up at him from my hunched over, contorted position and answer, "For my health."

But that's a lie. It's all about ego. "I will be a healthy, heart-happy person" will not take me over the finish line. "I am going to be one of only 400,000 people in the country to finish a marathon" will.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go dab alcohol on my wounds...