my feet are still kinda fat

this is what 13 miles looks like

i still kind of can't believe i did that half-marathon.  it's an understatement to say that i am really, seriously, truly not built for extreme feats of exercise.  i suppose to a real athelete, 13.1 miles is child's play, but for a girl who loves her couch and won't hustle to answer the phone, 13 miles was a hell of a long walk.

part of the reason i wanted to do this race was to raise money for LLS, but i was also curious to see if i could do it.  my first piercing was also done in the same spirit ("can i really endure a needle through the tongue?"), i learned how to drive a stick because i thought it would be too hard, i moved far away from home because i kinda thought it would kill me, and we all remember that time i lived on a fishing boat because i might never get a chance to do so again.  evidently i am all about making myself uncomfortable in the name of "broadening my horizons."  for someone who is usually so anxious and weird, i sure do a lot of things that seem ridiculous even to me.  in any case, i believe that this is one of those things i did once as a lark, but will keep on doing.  kind of like the piercing and driving a standard shift.

i have a new respect for my body and what i can do.  training for the race showed me how all that talk of exercise and endorphins might not be a lie that thin people tell fat people to make us feel like shit.  spending time out in the world, listening to music and taking in the sights is a fun way to spend an hour or two alone.  i can also feel better about the upcoming zombie apocalypse, because now i have the stamina to get out of the way.  i don't think i'll ever be a racer who cares much about beating other racers, i'm not that competitive; but i can see myself trying to beat my own times, and enjoying doing more walks like this one.

things you won't ever see me doing: throwing my water cup on the ground like a lot of asshole walkers.  that part i didn't get.  i wasn't at the head of the pack, slowing down to throw my cup in the trashcan did not add precious seconds onto my time that i couldn't recover from, so if you were ahead of me and threw your cup on the ground, i thought you were a dick.  if i didn't need to do it, you didn't need to do it either.  you won't ever see me in a super-coordinated, cute running set, unless you think black pants a t-shirt are the height of fashion.  you won't ever see my sneering at other runners or walkers if they get in my way for a fraction of a second.  you won't see me eating one of those energy goo things; they look weird and i can't imagine eating them without looking retarded.  you also won't ever see me throw my clif bar wrapper on the ground because i'm so busy walking fast and can't stuff it back in my stupid fanny pack.  you will probably see me in a fanny pack, though, because as dumb as they look, they really are useful.  after the race, you will probably also have to hear about how my feet hurt and my toes look like vienna sausages.  because guess what? my feet hurt and my toes are swollen little nubs of pain.  in fact, i think i'll go put them up and ice them again!

thanks to everyone who sent me nice thoughts, money, and comments.  it was amazing to have such support, and it sounds cliché, but i couldn't have done this without you!  thank you, thank you, thank you!