I finished the 10k in one hour, ten minutes, and twenty-three seconds. My body didn’t protest until about 30 minutes after the race, but it’s clear that this will likely be my first and last 10k race. I feel so spent and ruined now that the elation I felt at finishing feels made-up to me.
The fact remains, though, that I DID IT. I ran 6.2 miles, even though I was ready to stop at mile 2, and then at mile 3, and then again at 5k. The hills in Central Park were murder. I was truly ready, I thought, to collapse and then I saw the 5-mile mark and figured I’d gone this far, I could go another 20 minutes. When there were 200 meters to go (all uphill, thank you), I seriously considered walking across, but I didn’t. I made it running the whole way, and when I collected my medal I knew I’d earned it.
Now to please excuse me while I pass out till tomorrow morning.