I have been running with my dad lately. I like running with him because he pushes me to do what he knows I can do. Well, on Wednesday I called him to see about going running. He said he was doing a long run and I thought that meant six miles (that is what we usually do). I came to find out that he really meant a half marathon. I thought he was crazy but I wanted it bad. I had to take Isabella with me in the jogging stroller and my dad and I had no idea if she would last the whole time. We were thinking it would take around 2 and a half hours. Well, I thought at mile nine I was going to die and I was planning on stopping but just as we finished the 8th mile I got what I lovingly refer to as runners high. Not soon enough in my mind. I am just amazed that I did it but I pushed on and ran the whole 13.1 miles.
I would like to add that the farthest I have ever run was 6.2 miles and I had only ran that once in the past two years. Isabella did great. She got fussy around miles 4-6 but fell asleep the rest of the way.
Granted I was really nauseous and could barely walk to next day but it was worth it and I was off to my 8 am class the next morning.