I recently ran my first half-marathon at Virginia Beach for the Shamrock Weekend.  At 7 in the morning, it felt like low 30s with the wind whipping at the heels. Rain was steady but consistent as I made my way over from the Farm Fresh Parking Lot to the Corral 3 starting line. The sun was rising but had yet to make an entrance. I trailed a group of people, assuming they were some of 7,000 people up in the morning to run in these dreary conditions. Here are my thoughts as I came upon 42^nd street.

Mile 1: Okay, phew we got this Jon. One foot in front of the other. One step, two step. Hey look, a non-African black person! He up here in the front, making these gainz. Damn that dude looks upset. Is he about to cry? I’m going to say “hello.” [I say “what’s up”] Oh he don’t see me? Wow, I thought we were in this together. He probably doesn’t season his food and follows Stacey Dash on Twitter.

Mile 2: Hmm, I wonder what mile I’m on? Probably 6. Ya’ boy is coasting, ya’ boy got that speed. That speed, I said I got, I got, I got-got-got that SPEED. Half-marathons are a joke, I could do this in my s(ch)leep. Oh there’s a “cheer station” lemme’ get some high-fives. [I extend my hand out to high-five the two dozens of people cheering on their loved ones.] Yes, high-fives for the win. I have been rejuvenated. Tavon is fake for not waking up at 4:30 in the morning to cheer me on for two hours in the cold rain. Probably should find a new favorite cousin.

Mile 3: Wait mile 3? Wait, hold up. I’ve been running for like 30 minutes. This can’t be right.

Mile 4: Wait that’s the 2:45 pacer passing me. Oh no. Oh god. What have I done. Oh that girl is cute. Imma’ look cool passing her. Wait, is it frowned upon to flirt with someone during a half-marathon? Maybe I’ll wait, only 7,000 people are running this race. I’m sure I’ll see her again.

Crossing the finish line on the Virginia Beach boardwalk. 

Mile 5: Okay about 8 miles to go. That’s 4 miles twice. 2 miles four times. That’s a mile, eight times. That’s running about 13 kilometers. Wait how many feet is that? Crap, Dr. Mutiti would have killed me if he knew I forgot about my unit conversions. Another cheer station! Sweet!

Mile 6.5: I hate everything that has ever lived. Who invented the high-five?

Mile 7: cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp cramp.

Mile 8: Oh yeah Dusty Baker and Glenn Burke started the high-five. Duh Jon.

Mile 9: [I start crying and singing internally] Rock it, don't stop it, [gasps for air] everybody get on the floor…crank the party up [wipes away eyes to frustration] we about to get it on…let me see you 1, 2 step, I love it when you 1, 2 step… [stuffs water, Gatorade, bananas, and Gu energy gel into face while temporarily and simultaneously choking/blinding myself]

Mile 10: I can’t believe I spent $123.46 on this race with a $10 parking fee. My money better be funded to cure AIDS that’s all I’m saying. Oh wait it’s going to Children’s Miracle Network. Never mind…

Mile 11: I definitely have totz mcgoatz more energy than I thought I did. Two miles? That’s almost nothing. I think it’s time to activate ‘twin turbos’ [I quicken my pace to a slow sprint]

Mile 12 &13: runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run : runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run runny run-run-run. IF Y’ALL DON’T GET OUT THE WAY, I NEED TO END THIS SELF-IMPOSED TORTURE.

Mile 13.1: I can’t feel my fingers, my thighs are in limbo, I’m wet from the rain and sweating, I don’t remember where I parked my car, it feels like 30 degrees out here, I’m not sure if I need to poop or pee or throw up first, but hey:

I get 6 beers, Brunswick stew, and a 90s R&B cover band is playing. Leh’ get it.

Later I saw that I finished 250 out of almost 7,000 people with a 1:35:28. Maybe I’ll get it another try later on? Try to get some 1:20 action? Ugh.