eclectic whatnot

This race was a first for me. I started my period the night before and without fail the first two days are extremely rough for me – complete with painful cramping and upset stomach.

Basically, my one recurring thought was AWESOME. #not

When I packed for Blissdom, apparently I didn’t pay much attention the forecast for race day. My plan was to wear a sleeveless tank and a running skirt, but the night before a group of us went to Cracker Barrel and decided last minute to find a sports store. We shopped the clearance rack and found some long sleeved running shirts.

It was so cold and windy in downtown Dallas. So windy. It was painful standing around waiting for the race to start. Sharone, Abby, Allison and I were back in corral 10, so once the race started at 8 o’clock it took awhile to inch our way to the start line.

Thankfully, just as we came upon the start line, Abby noticed articles of clothing people had already tossed aside. She quickly grabbed each of us a sweat jacket. Ohmyword. The wind was just brutal. My teeth were chattering and my legs and feet were numb, but once I slipped that jacket on I breathed a sigh of relief.

We started out at a really comfortable pace while bracing ourselves against the wind.

I felt fine {not great, mind you, just fine} until around mile 4 or 5.

My stomach started to turn upside down and I knew I was in trouble. I told Abby and the girls to press on without me.

From that point on, it was a constant battle of searching for a porta potty because my stomach hurt or because I needed to replace a feminine product. Some of the porta potties had lines while others didn’t. I came upon one porta potty – yes, one lonely porta potty all by its lonesome – that had a line about six people long. I stood in that line for about five minutes only to learn there was no toilet paper inside. Forget that. I pressed on.

I took my phone out and whined on IG . . .

. . . and on FB . . . and to my man.

I’d run a little, walk a little, visit a porta potty, run some more, walk some more, visit another porta potty, etc. etc. etc.

Good times.

If I look at the race as just a supported training run, then it went okay. If I look at it like a race, then I set a Personal Worst.

Either way, I finished another half marathon. That makes six. This time last year I was getting ready to run my first.

The course was actually very nice. You run through some very posh neighborhoods, parks, and city streets. Every couple of miles there was music via either a live band, soloist or a DJ. There was crowd support along most of the route holding some fun signs.

And, of course, there was beer at the finish line. Yes, that Michelob Ultra was worth it.

The more I’ve thought about Sunday the more I feel badly about my attitude that day. Yes, I was cramping, had stomach issues, was cold and obviously, in a craptastic mood, BUT I did it. I was able to make it 13.1 {and some change due to all my racing around trying to find a porta potty ::snort::}. I was able to run that day. Any day I’m able to run, is a good day. During one of my past races, I remember seeing someone hold a sign that read, “Someday you won’t be able to do this. Today is not that day.” Amen.

Every race you run won’t be a record breaking one. Every race you run won’t be fun.

But, every race you run is a race you’ve run. Don’t lose sight of that.

P. S. I don’t want to forget our other pal, Allison, who ran her first half on Sunday and made her goal of a sub-2:00. Yay, Allison!