Done!

Done!

I am done with the half marathon.

Praise the lord 0 Hallelijah!

I’m happy to report my sisters and I all completed the race.

In case you don’t remember, my sister Kelly asked me and our sister Amanda to run a half marathon for a sisters’ weekend.

Amazingly, we agreed.

Here’s a quick look at our race.

Hi hotel lady – Would you mind taking our picture? Yes, we know it’s 6 AM and 40 degrees outside but we are dreading eagerly anticipating our run this morning.

Kelly, me, Amanda

(You may notice the stained shirts – during the race, as you get hot, you toss your outer layers to the ground – the race director stated that all the clothing collected from the ground goes to a homeless center – How wonderful for the homeless to receive stinky clothing, snot covered gloves, and dirty hats )

Look how freakin’ dark it is! We are insane!

This is all your fault anyway. You’re the one who wanted to do this.

Thank you for pointing out that fact for the millionth time Jennifer.

Good times. Good times.

It was quite cold at the starting line so I felt justified in complaining until I noticed the soldier who planned to run the entire race in his combat boots. Hmmm, perhaps I should just be grateful I can choose to do this run. Yes, I’m thankful but I’m still freezing.

Once the gun when off all three of us stayed together for a total of four minutes. Amanda took off and left us in the dust. Keep in mind she didn’t even train a total of 13 miles for this race and it’s all the more impressive. I ran over 140 miles in training and was tired at mile nine. Amanda kept telling us she would die but we never bought it.

My sister Kelly and I stayed together for the first 5 miles but then separated after that.

I hate this song, not motivating at all, why did I put it on here?

This song isn’t helping either.

I’ll just pretend I’m listening to music and eaves drop on theses other runners for a bit.

At mile six I stopped at an aid station since my hands were swelling. I made the mistake to leave my gloves in the hotel and as a result my hands were painfully cold the entire race. I asked the nurse at the aid station if it was okay that my hands had turned into giant man hands. She seemed to think it was perfectly fine so I went on my way. After all, only 7 more miles to go.

The race was extremely well run with water stops, cheer groups, and plenty of support. The cheer groups had signs that said, “You did this to yourself,” “Beat Oprah,” and, “Pretend you’re a Kenyan.”

I was able to give those cheer groups something to laugh at as well.

When asked what name I would like to show on my bib number, let’s just say I didn’t write down Jennifer.

At the eleven mile mark the lead marathoner passed me. In the same time it took me to run 11 miles, he had run 24 miles. 24 MILES! It was unbelievable to watch. Of course, I only watched for a minute since he was quickly out of my sight.

I was incredibly happy to see the finish line when I rounded the final corner.

Many people report having a runners high when completing a long run.

Not me.

I was just relieved to be finished and was desperate for a pair of gloves.

I need a picture of us at the finish line.

This is not going on your blog.

Oh yes it is.

Can’t we go back to the hotel and change first?

No, the final picture has to be us at the finish line. Now let’s take the picture.

Fine. Let’s put our hands on our hips so our arms will look less flabby.

Amanda (2:17), me (2:40), Kelly (2:45)

Amanda and I have informed Kelly that we will be planning the next sisters’ weekend and there won’t be a tennis shoe insight.

┬áSo for now I’m hanging up my sports bra and calling my running career over.

At least for now.

After all, you never know when a sister is going to need you.

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