So, back before my little hiatus, I was just gearing up to train for the Arizona Rock N Roll Marathon.
I don’t want to talk about the “training” part.
About a month before the race, we all decided to switch to the half for a variety of reasons. I decided before we got on the plane that I wasn’t going to wear a watch, or worry about time…I just went out for a run.
I feared that things might go terribly wrong. I hadn’t exactly excelled in long runs through the long, cold winter. When I got to the 10-mile mark and didn’t want to crawl off the course, I was pleasantly surprised. At that point, it was just three more miles in the lovely Arizona sunshine.
Since Rock N Roll Arizona is huuuuge and I had no timepiece, several hours passed before I knew the official time. Once I was able to look it up, my suspicion was confirmed:
9:00 pace is my auto-pilot.
My lightning fast time of 1:58:33 was just fast enough to not be my slowest ever, and to be honest I was thrilled just to finish under 2 hours. It meant that I was able to gather up my stuff, meet Lacy in the reunion area, and see Kara Goucher and her cute baby before heading back out on the course to find Bridgette, who walked the half while dealing with an obnoxious knee injury.
But here’s the thing. The race itself ended up as a footnote on our trip. One of the major factors influencing our decision to switch to the half was a brilliant plan to leave Phoenix immediately after the race, pile into a rented compact car, and drive for four hours.
Friends, it was so worth it.
It meant we got to visit here
and see this
at sunrise.
Yes, please.
That is what running vacations are all about!
