Before we get into the wonderous world of photos here's the stark facts about this little sprint. I really loved running on the track- not gonna lie. The temp was perfect (although I was sweating like a pig. not that pigs can even sweat but STILL.) It was a novel concept to have no worries about potholes, ice, giant hills, 30 MPH winds, dinosaurs, rapists, 18 wheelers, rabid dogs- yeah- all those things that I try NOT to encounter. I ran at a pace that felt good and never got out of breath or pissed off. Usually there is a point in a Half when I'm just like "Dude... This feels like such a bucket of assholes..." and I never got to that point. And I did NOT throw up which was the highlight of the whole experience.
Anyway. On to the good stuff. Ahem.
We drove to Milford. It was 3 hours away, just like everything else in the world. My Dad decided to come which was good- we always have fun on roadtrips and have a lot of snacks. And my Dad pays for the tolls which is a perk. You can see a blurry little me in the above picture. I ran past my poor Dad 68 times (count em. sixty freaking EIGHT.) and I showboated every time. Are we surprised by this may I ask? Doubt it.... Oh, by the way? I'm not gonna apologize for my white pasty legs. Avert your eyes and remember that I live in Maine and do not tan.
It looks like I barely have any friends to run with but the truth is that it felt like a constant chase. Anddddd there is nothing I like better than the feeling of chasing down ill advised people who are slower than my sorry ass self. That dude in orange probably was up about 20 laps on me but we can pretend for a minute that I was about to soundly beat him. This, I believe, is in the last 10 laps when the FAST boys had gotten the hell off the track and it was just me, the slower dudes and the chicks.
Why am I fist pumping? Actually, the question is WHY am I running in the outside lane when there is NOBODY else around? DUH. SIGH. Hope I didn't do that too many other times like a big dumb dummy. But HEY- I was showing a little Jersey Shore style love to the finish because I was about to WIN!
OK. I can hear you all say "Yeah Right" but NO REALLY. I really did win. I know.... Gatorade called me IMMEDIATELY and offered to sponsor my fabulous self and insure my ghostly white legs. My fame has spread throughout the world like a highly contagious disease.
I won beer. I'd like to say.... A win is a win is a win. (and a PR is a PR is a PR.) In no way am I having delusions of grandeur here people, my time is NOT the kind of time that would hold up for better than one millionth place at a bigger race- but bottom line- I was the fastest girl out there on that day and that's that! 1:45:32. Best time for me by 8 whopping seconds (no hills!) I need to shave about 20 minutes off of that to run with the rest of y'all but (as they say in the sticks) IT AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN!
I do not lie when I say that the best part of the day was feeling quite well after the fact and not hurling on anyone or anything... Good times, good times. Oh. It was also nice winning beer. Have I ever mentioned that I like beer?
And now! Counting down to the VERY hilly and VERY cold 16 miler on Sunday. I'm not scared (yes I am...)
OH! A little PS: People have asked if it was boring and laborious running around the track and no, it was most certainly not. The time flew by, and since it was almost impossible to know what lap you were on all the time it wasn't like "oh there's mile one" then 40 hours later "there's mile two." It was shockingly easy, fast, and entertaining- who would have thought!