Well, since God decided not to intervene on my behalf by ending the world before this morning's race, I had to run it. Clearly I survived. Also? No puking. There came a moment right at the start when I was pretty sure someone was going to be running 3.1 miles with throw up on their back but they were spared that horror.
My out loud goal was to finish in under 45 minutes. My real goal was to finish under 40 minutes. Yes, I have out loud goals and internal goals. See, I don't like to lose. I know I have run 5K in under 40 a few times. Usually it's more like 42-44, depending on whether or not I had to stop to throw down with an old lady over path rights. I figured if I told everyone my goal was under 45, there was a pretty good chance I'd make it and everyone would think how awesome I am. But if I revealed the actual under 40 goal and finished in 42 everyone would think I'm a loser. Yes, it's all about what everyone else thinks about me. When does that confidence with age shit kick in? Let me tell ya, it's not at
So yeah, I finished in 39 minutes, 17 seconds. The Skinny Bitch finished with a fabulous time of 27 minutes - which, by the way, was a winning time in our age group - she's got the trophy to prove it. She kicked my ass but after she kicked it she came back to find me and ran to the finish with me. Almost makes me feel bad about calling her a Skinny Bitch. But then I remember that she gets to be skinny and the guilt fades.