I ran a personal best 1/2 marathon this morning. It was a beautiful race. A creamy-peach moon hung heavily on the western horizon as we started in South Mountain Park. Slowly, the colors in the saguaros changed from olive to sage green as the sun climbed in the sky. I started toward the back of the pack and pushed myself to stay on pace for the first 7 miles and not get caught up in race excitement. More than once I’ve gotten carried away with the running crowd and found myself completely spent during the last half of the race.
Not this morning. The stars aligned and I sailed through the race, walking only briefly and finishing with my fists clenched above my head Rocky-style. Awesome.
The only thing that could have gone better? I tripped and fell. Apparenly I got a bit too into my music and wasn’t paying attention to the uneven concrete. Down I fell, sliding forward on my palms and leaving an impressive road rash gash on my hip. {Sidenote: You get impressive service from paramedics when there are no health issues other than one klutzy girl who fell over herself on the trail. Oy.}
Truly for the first time in my life, I feel like I’m getting stronger and faster. I hope I’m not jinxing myself, but this training and improved diet might actually be working.

Off to nap,
K