Not the Half of It

Describing what a half marathon feels like, "half" doesn't cut it. Not being a great runner of distances, likeJames Lander, the Dexter-Ann Arbor half marathon is "half" of nothing I have ever experienced. It kicked me in the knees, took a bat to my thighs, and rubbed my nipples raw. That's right, nipples as red and thick as ripe rasberries. Surprisingly though, my love of rasberries wasn't the only reason I ran a half marathon.

It's all about pushing personal limits. Limits act all intimidating, talking smack and acting like over protective parents. They need to be put in their place. I personally feel stronger after finishing this race, even though I scream like a baby every time I get out of a chair.

Of course, pushing limits just create new ones. Mine is now 1:42.08 and that bitch is going DOWN next year!