Ten. Kilometers that is.

6.2 miles.

I ran my first race, I ran my first race.
AND...
I DIDN'T get trampled.
AND...
I DID enjoy myself.
I was a wee bit intimidated by some of the hard-core marathon-ers but the event turned out to be quite a friendly place to run in, with competitors of all ages congratulating one another on a job well done. I had dreams prior of being torn to pieces by a pack of werewolf runners.
I felt proud and I want to do it again and shave some minutes off my time.
Arden was the best cheering squad ever.


Rounding the final bend and about to bust a gut laughing as they mispronounce my last name crossing the finish line.




Running buds. Next stop, New York City Marathon! (Ha!)

PS: I'm sore.