Saturday, June 7, 2014

1:35 PM
As I got ready to leave the house this morning my dad made the comment - you act like running a half-marathon is nothing. To which I replied - I am way too busy to have running a half-marathon be something.

That is the truth of it - my life can't stop because a week ago I signed up for a race. My "training runs" this week have been executed as part of my commute, or with my son in the jogging stroller. My work and life demands meant that sleep occurred as an afterthought. My race day prep occurred between 6:20 AM when I crawled out of bed and 6:45 AM when I left the house.

So, with that as the back drop, I kissed my family goodbye this morning and showed up at the race with no expectations, other than that I would be spending close to two hours running through a hilly and beautiful course. I surveyed the 200 plus other runners who would be doing the half-marathon - a lean, rugged looking bunch if I ever saw one. Seeing how fit and prepared they all looked furthered my resolve to just enjoy the experience and to bring along my phone so that I could document particularly breathtaking portions of the trail as I ran.

The race began and, true to expectation, I started out at a fairly mellow pace. My mommy bladder immediately and annoyingly announced that it was instantaneously full - an issue so common that my 2YO son now plays a little game whenever he runs with me where he squats down at the edge of the trail and announces "I mommy peeing". No issues, I told myself, once you get to a good spot along the trail you can just stop and pee - because remember you are just here to have a good time and your time doesn't matter, etc.

But then, as mile one ticked by, I realized that somehow I was in the number two female spot. That's interesting I thought I wonder if I can hold this position?

A dangerous thought indeed.

Suffice it to say that I did not stop to pee, made no bones about shouldering past several guys on the brutal single track uphill between miles 4-7 (you go baby! was heard - I mean, really? #yesallwomen), and hurdled past several more on the steep and very technical downhill. I never caught the female front runner, but I did jump creeks, dash across lovely wooden bridges that spanned fern-infused ravines, look in awe at stunning redwood trees, and laugh aloud with joy in several spots - the trail was just that beautiful and the race was just that fun.
It really is this beautiful
I may not have the lean, svelte body of a runner (genetics and my appetite account for that), or the rigorous training schedule (this blog is called MommyTasker for a reason), but I guess I have the heart of a runner, and in the end that is what gets you to the finish line every time.

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