My First Half Marathon, in stream of consciousness

This morning I ran 13.1 miles for the very first time. Have you ever done this? Are you considering it? If you are, then stop considering it right now because I did it for you, and I’ll tell you exactly what it was like in real, stream-of-consciousness thoughts:

• 6:30 am: **alarm** Ok. I’m awake. Step one done. Now I can do this race. Ok, no I can’t. But at least I didn’t press snooze. I’m doing better than a work day.
• 7:10 am: Eggs made, outfit on. I may actually be on time. But I have to do my hair and it must be perfect or I will break my leg running or faint or something.
• 7:20 am: OMG how did I just do my hair well in ten minutes on the first try? This is a good omen. I’m not going to die. Should I put my house key in my zipper pocket? Or should I tie it on my left shoe like usual? My shoe might annoy me. My pocket though, that’s not good for my OCD. Ok I need to just decide or I’m going to be late. When did I get this superstitious?
• 7:50 am: Start line. I think I’m going to poop my pants. UGH I hate Porta Potties. Must. Not. Poop. Pants. Where are all the cute guys? Oh yeah, it’s a women’s only race. Are there really 9,399 other females here? Are we all crazy? This is why guys don’t date us. Because almost 10,000 of us wake up before dawn on a Sunday to run around a park multiple times.

  

  

  

• Mile 1: Why are there so many people? Hopefully it thins out soon. Wait, why is every single person passing me? Oh yeah, because I’m in way too fast of a corral. How demoralizing. Blame my ankle sprain. Only 12.1 to go.
• Mile 3: This isn’t too bad. But where’s the water station? I shouldn’t have passed up that first one. I knew I would regret that. Damnit damnit damnit. It’s ok. I’m ok. SHIT. 10.1 more miles?? That’s more than 10!! It’s ok. I’m ok I’m cursing a lot for mile 3. 10.1 to go…
• Mile 4: Harlem Hill. FML. I think I can, I think I can. *Sees spectator with sign “Top of the Hill”* OMG I think the messiah has officially come. **sees sign for mile marker 10** OMFG I have to do this hill AGAIN? After 6 more miles? FRACK.
• Mile 7: Ok I am absolutely killin it. I ran the whole first lap without walking (except for water breaks). How am I still with the 1:55 pacer? I’m running way too fast. Then again, my brother said to just go with it if I find myself going faster than expected. Also, there are approximately 4,000 females ahead of me. Ok, I’m not going too fast after all.
• Mile 8: Where the hell are my friends and my boyfriend? I swear if they said they were going to cheer me on and they don’t show up, I’ll be PISSED. OOOH. That was good. Keep that anger. Anger = Speed. Be mad. Be very very mad.
• Mile 9: I’m done. Ok. Well, that was fun. You think I can just wave my race number like a surrender flag? Oh crap, that girl just fainted. “Um, NYRR volunteer? Yes, um, that girl over there? She just fainted.” I haven’t fainted yet so I’m still ok. I can do this. Don’t faint. Don’t faint.
• Mile 10: Harlem Hill AGAIN? You’ve got to be kidding me. I was hoping the park topography would change in the hour since I was here last time. No such luck.
• Mile 11: OMG RUN CLUB!!! LULU RUN CRU!! Pretend not to look dead. Look strong. Pretend you are not dying a slow, painful death from the feet upward. REMEMBER INSTAGRAM *blow kisses* *smiles* *waves to friends*
• Mile 12: YESSS FRIENDS AND BOYFRIEND!!! AND A SIGN JUST FOR ME!! I CAN DO THIS!!
• Mile 13: WHYYYYYY is there a .1? WHY WHY WHY WHY WHO MADE THIS RACE 13 POINT ONE?!
• Finish: Did I die? *takes selfie* Omg I didn’t die. Must. Ice. Ankle. But first, I will jump very high in the air multiple times for Instagram because this is never happening again. Probably. Maybe…

Post-Race thoughts:

• I’m going to eat ALL OF THE FOOD today.
• Thank god my shower has handicapped railings in it.
• I’m so glad my boyfriend came to support me because it would have really sucked to have to break up with him.
• People who run full marathons must take crazy pills.

So yeah, I don’t necessarily recommend it. But I did get a medal. And a great excuse to eat carbs for 7 days (carb-loading goes on for a week, right?). Please feel free to tell me how incredibly proud of me you are in the comments.