The morning of the Indy Mini Marathon I awoke at 1:30 and then 4....mind alert but trying to slip back into slumber in order to steal the last few moments of rest before my alarm would sound at 5.
A quick morning ensued. Scurrying to grab a breakfast of bananas and granola bars, we piled into our cars with water bottles resting on our laps.
Down to Indianapolis we zipped.
Into our corral we slid.
10 - 9 - 8 - 7 - 6 - 5 - 4 - 3 - 2 - 1 - GO!
Well, we didn't really go until 22 minutes later. But that's what happens when you start in corral Q!
This was a tough mini, due to the humidity and heat. I passed five fallen comrades - eyes rolled back and shaking (all of whom were being assisted by medics) along the course.
After crossing the finish line I bumbled along in a daze, shuffling along with the other finishers. I followed behind a man whose foot became stuck to a plastic bag. He glanced down - acknowledged the bag, but didn't seem to possess the energy to shake it loose. He just walked, dragging the bag along the ground with him.
I completely understood.
This was my sister Debbie's first mini and she did great!
Directly after the race I decided "I am not doing one of these again!" But wait six months. This resilient brain will forget the pain and believe "that wasn't so bad....I love running mini's!"
It's kind-of a love/hate type thing.
I'm sure that guy with the bag on his foot would understand.