|P.I.C. and I kickin it at the starting line|
The race started with that familiar, delicious pump of adrenaline, in addition to a massive downhill: beautiful. Around kilometre 17, though... the adrenaline was long gone and each step ached all the way through my legs, my right knee twinging with each pound. The thought of walking passed through my mind, but was followed by the realization that it would only prolong the agony.
20.5 Kms in, the finish line was in sight - at the top of one of the most massive hills in the city. Gah. What a cruel, cruel thing to do to someone two hours into running!
G'day relief that I didn't embarrass myself in my hometown, and of course it was lovely to give all those sweaty finish line hugs. Came home to a celebration dinner... which I was grateful not to faceplant into in exhaustion.
Overall, I'm definitely keen to give the half marathon another go - maybe once my muscles allow me to walk downstairs without wincing. Next step is to figure out more on the nutrition side of things and maybe try out some energy gels... any one out there got any advice for the next go around?!
xx Lady Expatriate