This was a completely different animal than the Goblin Gallop. There were almost 3000 people, and no packs or anything. Just one huge throng, making its way down the street. Small children flitted around, stopping suddenly, then dashing across the street. The hills were gentle, so I'd actually call the course pretty flat. I paced off of this man and his young son. He was great, constantly cheering his little boy on, it was outstanding to see. And they were going a nice easy pace. I left them behind with about a half mile to go and really kicked it up. I realized I might not make my PR, and I really wanted to beat it, so I hauled butt the last .6 mile.

Maybe it was the weather, maybe it was the anxiety, maybe it was something I couldn't put my finger on, but this race wasn't as charged. I was racing easier, that's for sure. I barely noticed the mile markers, and hardly felt like I was working at all. And therein lies the problem. I wasn't racing at all. I was just having a training run with a few thousand other people. Still, passing all those scads of people in my final charge sure was a lot of fun. I felt like a real runner. Plus, I was going so fast (or maybe it was so crowded? ;)) that my husband only got one picture of the whole thing.

Raced harder, through and through. I didn't put in a good effort at the beginning, and had lots left at the end. I just plain paced myself too slow. I was terrified of blowing up and not being able to finish, so I held back. Next time I should just try and see what happens.

Spent 30 minutes shivering, looking for my husband, who I lost in the crowd. Found him, ate a Clif bar, got in the car, got in an ice bath, and enjoyed the rest of my Thanksgiving.


Not knowing myself yet. This was only my second race, and my first where I had a time goal that I was trying to beat. I still don't know how to actually race yet.


Ugly tshirt. Other than that, a great race.