I guess I am really a runner, but most of the runners I know are really really runner runners. I don't look like a runner. I am not a competitive runner, or a fast one, or an ambitious one. But I think it's the running between 20 and 30 miles every week thing that makes me a runner regardless of that.
So that's why I ran a half marathon on Saturday. I just run, so I did.
My family gave up their whole morning to follow me around and yell, and wave, and jump up and down when they saw me. That's a good enough reason to run a race, if you ask me.
I finished 8 minutes slower than when I ran the Top of Utah half in 2012. I guess when you put it that way it doesn't sound too bad, but I knew I'd be disappointed if I were slower and I also knew I'd be slower. I was right on both counts! I was only 2 minutes slower than I had really wanted to be (2 hours) and to tell you the truth, I don't think I could have shaved those two minutes off, unless my family showed up every 1/2 mile to push me forward. And then only if they were holding an ice cold freshly-squeezed lemonade to entice me forward. (I got one of those at the finish.)