Somewhere in, West Virginia
Location: Somewhere in, West Virginia
Half: Veteran’s Half Marathon
Date: March 3, 2018
Finish Time: 1:34
Who’d I travel with? Mom, Kristen, and Mike
Pre-run meal? Uh. Dairy Queen I think? Oh and Pies & Pints!
Uh…What Just Happened?
I mean… at least I only have to do West Virginia once, right? So maybe #15 wasn’t necessarily the MOST exciting of steps in this journey; but hey, 15 is one one step closer to 50 right? Plus, it wasn’t all bad.
Or wait. Maybe it was.
But. At least West Virginia is just a stone-throw from Ohio, right? Well. Of course, ya girl picked the absolute southeastern most part of West Virginia to run my race… strike 1. But the weather must have been mild in West Virginia right? Well, evidently West Virginia isn’t necessarily any warmer than Ohio in March… strike 2. And strike 3? Well. Strike 3 requires a little bit of an explanation.
It was finally the moment that I had waited for the entire race – the final mile. As I rounded the last corner of the course and the finish line finally came into view, I could see my mom and my sister among the spectators lining the last stretch. I was so close, I could hear them screaming to sprint the last leg – and that’s when it happened. That’s when I turned around and started running… in the opposite direction – away from the finish line. The look of dismay on my mom’s face at that moment – she looked as though she might jump the barrier, stomp out there, and carry me across that line herself. But I was determined, determined to finish this race.
I’m sure you’re wondering what the hell I’m talking about. Well. This race was held on a Motorsports Track, and couldn’t have been marked any worse. Essentially, once you started running, you were now a rat, running around in a maze, praying you made it to the finish line at some point. I couldn’t even keep track of the amount of times that I got lost. I was running in circles out there, just trying to find my way to 13 miles. So, when I finally did find that finish line, I checked my phone and saw that I had only run 12 miles… So I did what any dedicated runner would do – I turned my ass around and kept running (making sure not to stray too far from that finish line – or it would be another 13 before I found it again). Anyways – long story short – strike 3 was my inability to navigate anything larger than a preschool playground.
But hey.. it’s definitely a finish I’ll never forget.