I decided to run the half-marathon again. First time in 6 years. And Liz was willing to do it with me again as well. Neither of us trained. But, she is a young athlete. And so we ran “together” for a short while.

For the first mile, I tried to keep up with Liz. And she was trying to let me keep up. We were darting through traffic, and making our way. And the first mile was about 8 minutes. It killed me though, and I quickly fell behind her pace. The last I saw of her, she was crushing it, with her pony tail flying back and forth.

She impressed me so much. In the morning, as she was putting on her bib, she just looked like a determined athlete. And then stretching, it was clear that she has done this before.

For me, I just wanted to enjoy the day. I’m 42. Don’t feel like I have many of these left in me.

And it was hard. Really hard. I walked so many times. By mile 11, my back and both of my legs were burning. I could barely move, but told myself I would not give up. I would finish the race. Miles 12 and 13 were very slow, probably 13 and 17 minutes respectively. And I finished with a total pace of about 11 minutes.  Liz crushed it and finished under 9 minutes, at 1:56:00 total time. Her PR. My worst at 2:26.

But I finished. And I am proud of myself. Mind over matter. I did what I set out to do. I am hurting but it is a good hurt. And I am glad to have shared this experience with my daughter one more time.