Two Halves make a Whole

Today was the second half marathon in three weeks. Mother Nature was kind, providing cool breezes and mostly overcast skies. Making our way along the course through Beauclerc and Mandarin, the time flew as I laughed with Click and Clack, and then belted out some tunes to my iPod. My apologies to my fellow runners who were subjected to the breathless, loud covers of hits that spanned the decades from Kool and the Gang's celebrations to the golden tones of Jill Scott.

I was surprised to find the second time to be a little easier. Mile marker 8 was the first time I thought about how much further there was to run. I may have even experienced a runner's high, sometime after mile 10. I didn't have an adrenaline rush or feel myself levitate. I just felt incredibly, ridiculously happy. Drenched with sweat, chafing God knows where, and plodding along at a pace that would embarrass any self-respecting runner, I couldn't lose the obnoxious grin. Running may be second only to waterboarding in degrees of torture, but I'm actually enjoying the sport.

What's more is that our friends are encouraging this behavior. Enablers all, they show up and cheer for us, clapping when we cross finish lines way after the award assemblies have concluded. CS dragged MD from his sickbed and together they met us at the gatorade pools. The official photographers of the JG/EG half marathon, friends and supporters, drove a good 30 minutes each way just to be there. Forget the runner's high, I can get that rush any time I think about these people I love.

As to the possibility of improving the half marathon to a full, I firmly state AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN. I know, CS, you suggest that when I voice it then God wills the opposite to come true. In this case I think I'm safe. Nobody heard that over the screaming of my muscles.