I Rocked & I Rolled...Literally

The people who say you can cause something to occur through the power of your mind are kooks. But, after this weekend, Kooks=1 Erin=0. On Sunday, I ran the Rock & Roll Half-marathon in Phoenix. (Daniel ran the full marathon in 5:09, beating his previous time by more than 16 minutes. Good on him!) The event is by far the most massive race I have participated in. There were roughly 21,000 runners in my event and apparently, they all decided to attend the expo at the exact moment I picked up my race number. Thankfully, I got mini-bottles of olive oil and balsamic vinegar in my race bag, which totally compensated for my overwhelming fear of crowds. On race day, I watched Daniel start his race, went to line up for mine and then waited about 35 minutes after the "official race start" to actually get to the start line since there were thousands of people in front of me. By the time I started, I had already been on my feet for two hours, which did not bode well for my race. (I did get to wave at John McCain who was part of the start line festivities, so again, that totally made up for it.) ************************************************************************************* My goal time was around 2:25, which would have beat my previous half-marathon time by about 7 minutes. Through mile 6, I was pretty well on track and feeling good. Sadly, I stopped to use the restroom around this time and waited in line for 9 minutes, thereby totally screwing my chance of getting in by 2:25. I tried to convince myself that I could subtract "potty time" from my race time and still count it as a PR, but I quickly decided that would be cheating and then became alternately pissed and depressed for the next couple miles and sort of gave up. (Despite being thirty, I still occasionally throw fits a la a three year-old.) I finished the race at 2:42:35 and decided that at a minimum I was going to get my first good finish-line photo. I generally make horrific faces while I run (not on purpose, I can't help it) and the photographers always seem to catch me in truly hideous form. This time, I was going to put on my best face for the guy at the finish line... ************************************************************************************* Now back to the kooks... While at the expo, I kept telling Daniel that I didn't want to run since I knew that I would trip and fall because of the throngs of people in the half-marathon. I am both clumsy and afraid of being touched by strangers... I couldn't let it go and was convinced that I would get elbowed and thrown to the ground on the race course as other runners passed me. Actually, I was pleasantly surprised on race day to find we were pretty well spaced out and that there was little risk of tripping. Well, as I ran towards the camera at the finish-line, projecting my best "I am woman, here me roar" face towards the camera, I failed to notice the slightly raised finish line. I completely ate it, fell to the ground and had to be helped by another runner crossing the finish line. Yes, I'm that person and I have a picture to commemorate it. ************************************************************************************* Honestly, it was a fun race. I don't know that it will be an annual thing for me, but seeing the bands and massive amounts of spectators was cool. At this point, I don't have a next race planned. This completely freaks me out since I need that motivation to keep running... I'm going to start checking my options as I keep chasing a 2:25 half-marathon. Next time, I'll go for a crappy picture rather than rolling across the finish line, thanks.