That’s what I call under the wire. I cried a little at the finish. Shut up. I was vulnerable and there were so many cheering people and I have wanted to do this for such a long effing time. But next time (see what is happening already?) I’m getting a watch. I was so freaked about about starting too fast that I started really slow and then sprinted in the middle when I realized I was off pace – and then I unfortunately separated from my dead body from miles 10-13. (13.1!!!) But not before I ate an advil off a portapottie floor. 5-second rule?
Seth, Aaron, Baby Owen, Mom, Dad, Amanda and BJ? Calls from the Strader and various online supporters?
You guys are the best people on the planet. I did not anticipate how much knowing you would be there at mile 8 kept me going until that point. And getting up at 5:30? You will be rewarded in heaven.
Speaking of Heaven, talking out-loud to myself and Jesus is AWESOME and should be encouraged — maybe even when my body isn’t on fire. Or maybe I should get used to that.
I’m going to go chug an effing Dr. Pepper. I heart everything. Except for High Street. That road sucks.
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