Oh my goodness. I am so made for half marathons. First off, I wore my old shoes because I trusted them. I was running great through mile 13 - half marathon time by my watch was 2:26 (11 minutes slower than the Albany half mary, but that was on flat ground). I probably ate too much, but didn't really have stomach problems. About mile 15-16, my legs started getting really, really, really tight. After the water stop close to mile 16, I was walking and had to force myself to run again. My legs felt like they were quitting, not in a tired way, but just painful clenching up, especially my hamstrings. I wanted to break down and cry. I almost did for about five miles of the race. Seeing mile 16 was more torture than anything. All I could think was that I had 10 freaking miles to go. Oh, and at mile 19, somebody had a sign that "You're all Kenyans." Excellent! By the end of the race, I realized I could not stop to walk because I was going so slow and all I wanted at that point was to get done. In the park, finally saw Renee again. She walked with me a little bit and then blasted on past. As I was hobbling around the other side of the pond, I heard "WATERGIRL" and saw Amanda and Tonya behind me across the way. That was the best part of mile 22. I finished the marathon at a slow jogging speed, looking like a gimpy duck. The medical aid people must have thought I was falling apart (if I had to run even another 100 yards, I probably would have) and they helped me to the tent and iced my hamstrings and stretched my legs. Ice, by the way, has never, ever felt so good.
Justin (my hubby) and my friend were there cheering me on - managed to find me at four different spots. Having somebody there really helped. They were awesome. J said he had so much fun! Rock on!
BTW, God got me through this race. At first it was "I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength." Towards the end, I'd dissolved to "I can do all things." He is awesome.

New shoes. I don't care if they hurt my feet, they probably would have saved my legs. If I ever do anything in Nashville again, my training strategy will consist strickly of hills, hills and more hills. Wear sunscreen. Start out a little slower. Buy an ipod. Sleep more before the race.

Got iced down at the medic tent. Walked around, got the mylar blanket and my finishers medal. Ate a Balance bar, orange slice, tiny muffin, half a big fat pretzel (Justin kept taking bites out of it), bottle of water. Picked up my free shoes, stretched, got my photo taken, found Debbie (we were both about to fall over), limped to the car.


Old shoes. Too many hills. But what, really, does it matter? I finished. I finished. I did 26.2 miles and I'm done.


Nashville is beautiful. The fans were great starting out, but they really need a plan to spread them out a bit. Lots of stretches of silence. The bands were okay, but I was wishing for more noise, music, etc. Good race overall.