Life in the Cheese Drawer

*runrunrunrunrunrunrunrurn*
after three months of training, the day for the half marathon was upon us last weekend. well, i trained for three months. i can’t speak for liz.
i’d run 10 miles at the most. that 10 miles was… not bad…but not awesome. i knew i could do it. i was relatively unscathed afterward. and they say that you can run 1/3-1/2 more of the distance than what you’d trained for. so i was (supposedly) good. 
the day before, i ate. a lot.
the morning of, i ate. a muffin. and used the bathroom. (no runner’s trots for me.)
the time came. we started our half marathon. 13.1 miles.
we decided the best way to accomplish this was to walk a little bit each mile, so we ranranranranwalksranranranranwalked. liz took a picture at each mile marker. 
so things were going pretty well. it takes a couple miles to warm up, and after three miles it just becomes a blur, but then after about 7 (for me, anyway), things start to get hurty. after 9 miles they get really hurty, especially below the waist.  after 10, the bra starts chafing, and i have to make an effort to hold my arms away from my sides as i run to let the cool air flow over my chafed arms. at 11 miles, we stopped to stretch out the calves – OMG.
at this point, all those runners who’d been running fast then walking then running fast then walking were running really slowly. so liz’s and my “slow and steady wins the race” attitude passed all those losers. (said she who came in 112th out of 137.)
and then…the wall. the last mile was just torture. my hamstring quit on me. i took a minute at a street sign to stretch it out, and i barely got my leg 8 inches off the ground before it screamed at me to send it to guantanamo because that would’ve been less torturous than what i was putting it through now. after a couple kicks, it barely loosened up, but mind over matter, right?
right.
we walked a little bit, then decided it was time to run; it was mostly downhill at this point anyway, and the end was near.

OH HAPPY DAY! MILE 13!!
liz decided she needed to sprint the last stretch, so she finished 10 seconds ahead of me, but i said screw it; as long as i finish running, i’ll be good.
and finish we did. 
so why did we do it? like i’ve said before, because, well, we can!

then after that? i ate a lot.
the day after? i ate a lot. 
today? i ran again.