Half. I’m Lazy Like That.

So I ran a half marathon yesterday.

13.1 miles.
First one since having the babies.
Let me make one thing clear:
I hate running.
I’m not one of those people who runs because they like the rush and feel super cute and athletic when they run.
I’m one of those people who looks like they’re being tortured when they run. When I run it looks like someone has filled my shoes with lead bricks and my pants with Styrofoam thigh inserts. Nope, my thighs are just that big.

I’m not one of those people that runs to be athletic or to win races (because I’m still kind of slow).
Let me make this absolutely clear: I run for two reasons. One, to get the satisfaction of running far, far away from my children for an hour. And two, so I can eat whatever I want.
That is it.

So I ran this half marathon yesterday and the things that run through your head while you’re pounding your feet on the pavement for almost 2 hours are unparalleled.
I’ll take you through.

The starting line:
Let’s do this. 13.1 miles. That’s just double running 6 and half miles, which is just double running 3 miles, and running 3 miles is easy. This is going to be no problem.
Why are there so many people here? You guys like food too? I’m assuming everyone here is only doing this for the right to eat whatever they want for the next 3 weeks. Calories are still being burnt 3 weeks later right? Right.
.5 miles in:
So easy. I could do this for another 2 hours no problem.
1 mile in:
I hate running. I’m pretty sure those girls next to me are Olympians and that’s why they’re so much faster than me. It’s probably their pants. I need new running pants. I bet if I had teal running pants I could be that fast.
Why is everyone passing me?!
3 miles in:
Alright. Just ten more to go.
Dang it. I should not have put “Don’t Stop Believing” on my playlist. Now I’m tearing up while I’m running like a crazy person. It doesn’t help that I’m wearing my dads sweatshirt that makes me look like a homeless person. I literally look like a homeless person whose crying while running a half marathon. 
Hold onto that feelingggggg.
4.5 miles in:
Crap the photographer. Smile? Don’t smile? I know! Look away and hide behind the the lady you’ve been attempting to pace with this whole time. Great now slow down to a normal person speed. That lady is totally part robot or something. No human can maintain that pace.
6 miles in:
Runner’s high! This is easy and I’m basically halfway done! Running is so amazing and easy and I just love running so much! I’m so fast and so athletic and my hair is just tossing back and forth in the wind like a model for thigh implants!
6.2 miles in:
And the high is gone. I hate this.
Where’s Big S? He said he’d be here. He’s probably at Starbucks. I want Starbucks. When I finish this I’m getting Starbucks. And Chipotle. And probably some Sweet Frog. Ooh, Noodles and co. Sushi…. Mmm food.
7 miles in:
Crap. Another water stop. Running while attempting to drink something is the most ungraceful thing I’ve ever done, and this is coming from someone who thinks hand circles in the air is still a good dance move. But, man if throwing this cup on the ground isn’t the most satisfying thing I’ve done in years. Littering is so enjoyable!
8 miles in:
If you wanna be my lover. You gotta get with my friends. Make it last forever, friendship never ends.
Great, now I’m crying at the Spice Girls. This 3 minutes is dedicated to you, Stef, Megan and Erin. You guys would totally not judge me by the 80 year old who just ran past me, right?!
9 miles in:
Why is Virginia so hilly?! WHO MADE THESE ROADS?! They should be ashamed of themselves! I can’t wait to move to Florida. Florida has no hills. And it has Disney World. And it has considerate road makers (probably Mickey). Unlike VIRGINIA.
9.5 miles in:
They will run and not grow weary. They will run and not grow weary. They will run and not grow weary. I thought chanting Bible verses would be like running over a mushroom in Mario Kart and give me an extra speed boost…. I have not found this to be true.
10 miles in:
Just cut my legs off and drag me to the finish line. Seriously. Just cut them off. I’ve already earned more food than I could possible indulge in without my stomach exploding. It’s not even worth it.
11 miles in:
Wait, what? Just 2 more miles? And I’m at 1:37? I might actually get under 2 hours. I might actually do it! I might actually beat my first half marathon time! …. I also might actually be the worlds most weepy runner. Thank goodness no one pays attention to the homeless runners.
12.5 miles in :
Hey there’s Big S! And Little S! And Rae! And Gramma bear! They came! I hope they enjoyed that Starbucks. Punks. Whatever. I’m almost done! 
Then I can cut off my legs!
Crap they have cameras too.
Smile?
Don’t smile?
Smile and wave?
Great, I look crazy.
Don’t post that on Facebook.
13.1 miles.
Done. Done. Done. Done. Done. Done.
Food. Where’s the food.
Oh yeah, my metal. Can I eat this? That’s the real reason everyone takes pictures of themselves biting their metals, BECAUSE THEY ARE SO HUNGRY.
Now I want real food.
OOH!

Let’s sign up for another half before my brain knows what it’s doing!

In case you thought I was joking…

Homeless runner Mel with her styrofoam thigh inserts.

My children are unimpressed.

Now that you know how fantastic running is, who wants to do 26.2 with me?!
M

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