Last weekend I was lucky enough to spend it with my husband in Texas! He is still there for training (which feels never-ending). The weekend went too quickly.
While in town, we ran in a race honoring September 11. Charles ran the 10k and I ran the 5k. The challenge was to see who would finish first. My bet was that he would. He's ridiculously fast.
Race morning came. We checked in, got our bibs (my first ever) and picked up our shirts. I somehow ended up with a medium, so that is a little too big for me. But I'm not much of a t-shirt girl; I probably wouldn't have worn it anyway.
After a couple of intro speakers, the race started. Both the 5k and 10k started at the same time. I ran and then walked and ran and then walked... my usual. It was going well until I missed my second lap and came around to the finish line. I obviously was not paying very good attention to the signs or volunteers. I looked at the clock and knew I made a mistake. I had only been going for 20 minutes. As I crossed the finish line, I made sure to let the ladies know there was no way in heck that I did the whole thing.
It was hugely disappointing. I wasn't thrilled to be running. I never am. But I did want to see what my final time would be. Since I finished the 1st half in about 20 minutes, I figure I would have finished the whole thing in about 43 minutes. That was my goal, at least.
Charles ended up winning 1st place overall in the 10k. Like I told you...he's ridiculously fast.