Starting line (over exposed). I have the hopeful smile on my face with the number 1145 in the front.
While they wait and wait and wait, I’m on the most miserably boring trail known to man. A long tunnel of trees and gravel for most of the 6.2 miles. Thankfully the smell of manure was my only reminder that there was life outside the tunnel. (Yes, it was a “repeat” trail–once finished with the one direction, I had to turn around and look at the same boring green again.)
More waiting and right at the 2 mile mark, too much water (trying to compensate for the heat) and my stomach was nauseous then crampy for the remaining 4 miles. Do I even need to tell you that I came in so late that the race “policeman” was on my tail, on his bike for most of the miles, pulling up the rear of the race? I was so late that everyone was cheering me on as they passed me on their way to the finish line, as if this was the first time I had ever stepped foot on pavement or something.
What else. No water at the 4 mile water station, everyone that I had been running along side was off in the far distance while I walked/ jogged off and on, desperate to get out of the trees and never return to this race again.
(Do you notice some frustration here?)
It ended well at least. Lunch out, smiles on everyone’s faces, and now, even more, cherishing the incredible race from last fall.