...And so you just ran?

After 6 weeks of rigorous, sub-par training, I arose from my slumber at 5:13 am in San Antonio, Texas, to stare death in the face and chase it for 13.1 miles over a 2-hour and 8-minute period. Thanks to the superior technology of my 2003 Honda Accord, my attitude was given a slap in the face by two little numbers below my speedometer. 37. No, that's not how fast I was going down the street as a tried to avoid hitting all of the people that were NOT on the roads at 5:30 in the morning. That was the temperature in degrees Fahrenheit. Unfortunately, there was not a thermometer reading on my black leather driver's seat. The thin layer of cloth known as my running shorts provided my rump no protection from the biting cold material that was once a living animal. Sorry, PETA.

6:15 am...Arrive in AT&T Center parking lot. 6:20 am...Get in line to take a shuttle to the starting line. 7:08 am...Get on the shuttle to the starting line. For those of you playing at home, 48 minutes was spent ambling through a queue of 15,000 people (give or take 8,000). 7:23 am...Dropped off about 1/4 mile from the starting point. Efficiency. 7:26 am...Public urination. Don't worry, everyone's doing it, including the ladies. Inappropriate. 7:48...Run, Fat Boy, Run.

Mile 1: Hey, this isn't so bad.
Mile 2: It's so crowded. How is that lady running faster than me? That guy is so hairy.
Mile 3: I'm a little bit bored now.
Mile 4: Ok, I'm in a groove now. I've got this.
Miles 5-8: Nothing too remarkable. I removed myself from my experience. Thought nothing. Felt nothing.
Mile 9: This is the farthest I've ever run in my entire life. As previously stated in the introductory paragraph of this post, my training was indeed sub-par.
Mile 10: What, you want to go faster? Ok, let's kick it up a notch.
Mile 11: I like that slower pace much better.
Mile 12: Ok, now I know why I've never done this before. I splashed water on my hands while trying to grab a cup from an water angel. Hands...Numb. Feet...I'm not sure. Don't quit. How is that lady running so fast?
Mile 13: Who's idea was it to make up run up a huge slope right at the finish? Almost there. Try not to look tired in front of thousands of people. Can't breathe.
Mile 13.1: Finish. I feel sick. Don't throw up. People are watching. Don't puke. Pain. Good, no puke.

2 hours, 8 minutes, 13 seconds summed up in a few short lines.

I think I'm doing another one in February. I've written this post for me - not you - as a reminder of what 13.1 miles of evil feels like.

Enjoy.