If any of you are runners, this number is probably fairly familiar. Good ole 13.1. That would be the exact number of miles in a half marathon. That’s also 20.08 kilometers. Or 23,056 yards. Or 69,168 feet. Or 75,324 steps. (Yeah, definitely just made that last one up.) However you look at it, that’s the distance that I ran this morning. At the end of every school year, IWU hosts the Hodson Half Marathon, open to students and people in the community alike. Last year was the first time I’d ever ran a half marathon, and I was determined to outdo myself this year. You see, I’m competitive. No, like, really competitive. The kind where I run faster or bike harder in the gym if someone gets next to me and I won’t stop until they do. The kind where Jake doesn’t like to play any sort of game with me because if (by some miracle, I might add) he beats me, I won’t talk to him for the rest of the day. Yeah, that kind of competitive. So I not only wanted to be beat my time from last year, I wanted to beat it by 5 minutes.
Did I do it? Well, unfortunately, not quite. I missed it by about 2 minutes. BUT, I have my reasoning. Let me break it down for you…
8:00am, bright and early and slightly freezing (it was only 34 degrees…), the horn sounds, and we’re off! (Yes, that’s me in the white, making sure my music is playing. I can’t run without music. It’s all mental. Ha.)
Mile 1: Feeling good. I can do this!
Mile 2: God, did You really have to make men genetically more athletic than women? It’s not exactly fun getting passed by a bunch of guys.
Mile 3: Mini-wall. Why am I doing this again?
Mile 4: Just keep swimming, just keep swimming... Which translates into Keep moving your legs, Carissa.
Mile 5: THIS is where it hit me. THIS was my downfall. Every runner’s worst nightmare. (Or at least mine, anyways). Uh oh, I gotta go to the bathroom… (And for any wondering, yes, I did go to the bathroom before the race. 3 times.)
Mile 6: Uh oh, I REALLY gotta go to the bathroom…
Mile 7: Please don’t pee my pants, please don’t pee my pants. And waddling like a penguin.
Mile 8: Thank God they have a porta potty!! They had two, actually. But, just my luck, both were occupied. Of course. So I had stand their, squeezing my legs together and waiting, while a bunch of people ran by. Get OUT of the porta potty!!! I didn’t actually yell, but I came kinda close… So there went my two minutes. Wasted on the bathroom.
Mile 9: Stupid porta potties.
Mile 10: 3 miles is nothing. I’m practically done!
Mile 11: WALL. Must. Keep. Running.
Mile 12: …
Mile 12.5: Remind me not do this again.
Mile 13.1: The FINISH LINE!!!
-I debated whether or not to post this picture because, well, let’s be honest. I look like I’m about to cry (I wasn’t) and that I am going through intense pain (I might have been). But then I figured, if I was smiling and looking pretty for the camera, it would probably mean that I hadn’t just run my butt off. (Literally. My butt is mega sore. I’m pretty sure I lost a little cellulite with this run. Bam.) -
A big thank you to my wonderful suitemate Kelsi, who took all of these pictures.
Anyways, there you have it. I totally would have beat my time from last year had it not been for the porta potty mishap. I mean, it had to have taken at least two minutes. You know? I will continue to convince myself that it was all the porta potty’s fault, until the next time I run a half marathon. Only next time the plan is to beat my time by 7 minutes… lol.