Today I ran the Hills and Hills (and Hail) Half Marathon in Irving, Texas. I only had a month to train, which would have been alright, except that I hurt my foot in the second week and couldn't run after that since I was afraid to make it worse. And then I somehow always forget how awful running on pavement is—all my training is in toe shoes on grass and dirt trails.
So at about mile 5 my joints were screaming obscenities, but I pushed it until mile 6. I walked about a mile and a half when the 2:45 pacers passed me up, so I ran with them about 2 miles. At the 10-mile mark, the volunteers told us we could only continue if we could finish the last 3 miles in less than 20 minutes because a hail storm was heading our way. My best-ever 3-mile time is 27 minutes and change, and that was after NOT having already run 10 miles. So we headed toward the nearest building (a police station) to take shelter. But there was no one there, so most of the racers, including me, continued on.
Just before 11 miles, we were stopped again and herded into a pavilion, where I finally saw lightning in the distance. Then we heard the volunteers shout, "If you're gonna go, you gotta go now." Off to the finish line we dashed, feeling somewhat refreshed by the 5-minute stop. The sky lightened and the storm passed north of the race with just a bit of a sprinkle at the end.
I think I finished about 2:45, counting for the stops and detours. The race was cut short by a half mile, though, because of the approaching weather. So my total distance was 12.6 miles, a personal record by at least 4 miles, and I got my finisher's medal! Yay! And ouch. I really wish I hadn't had to drive myself home, as shaky as my legs were. Now I know for next time. Eep. Maybe this fall.