Cliché I know, but there are few better feelings than crossing the finish line– the swell of emotions, the excitement, relief. Tears (naturally) for me, a cold beer (Anchor Steam) presented to me by my sister.
Sweat dried in salty rivers around my face, white Lulu tank soaked through. Cold, but not, and buzzing with adrenalin, endorphin-charged high. Stoke level 100.
Post-shower (me) with my two faves. What champs! They ran 26.2 miles & look amazing.
A smile unfading despite feeling the sudden tightness in my quads, twinge in my knees, the throb in my Achilles.
This year’s SF Half Marathon coincidentally fell on the same weekend as my apartment move. Packing and shuffling boxes combined with race prep and a friend’s visit to run with us meant struggling with the balancing act– but somehow we made it all happen.
(I’m not kidding when I say I get by with
a little a shoot ton of help from my friends.)