One of the Crazy Ones

You're one of the crazy ones now, The Boy told me at 4:30 am yesterday.

He meant (I hope) that I was a crazy person who was willing to run a half marathon one week after running a full marathon.

I guess by that definition I am in fact crazy. But so is he, because he was running it, too.

In fact, most of our running group was doing the half in lieu of our normal weekly training run. As I learned last week, running with other people can be a lot of fun.

And by running with, I don't mean being surrounded by nearly a thousand people you don't know. I mean running with people who you can talk to about favorite babysitters, hilarious race stories, upcoming vacations and the best ever throw away shirts purchased.

Note on the latter: Though C showed up rocking a pretty awesome Hefty trashbag, my pace group leader, J, won that with her $2 Goodwill "World's Best Grandma" sweatshirt worn at the start of a cold race a few weeks ago. For the record, we're the same age.

Anyway, it was a great race. We planned to run at one pace and ended up knocking it out 30-44 seconds faster than anticipated (we separated a bit around mile 10).

I'll be honest, here. I battled low emotions for most of the afternoon after the race. I thought I'd gotten a new personal best race time but learned that I'd missed the mark by 37 seconds when the official race results posted.

Dumb, I know. I just ran a marathon last week and I was upset about 37 seconds.

Maybe I am one of the crazy ones.