Lofty

This morning I was up before the sun, watching people much fitter than I head to the starting line at the Columbus Marathon.

I was all excited heading up there Saturday, chit-chatting with
Dean and Adam in the car about their goal times and the folks in front of them they were going to mow down.

Being the super encouraging friend that I am, I advised them to "not suck it" and "don't embarrass yourselves."

Dean was hoping to school some dude in the half-marathon who's dating a chick he likes, so he had that for motivation. Adam was working on his fourth marathon in a row and wanted to run faster than light. Or something like that.

My goal was to get up early enough to get a steaming hot latté before hitting the start line to watch them take off.

We bumped into Beth, a friend from the winter running group, in the hotel lobby. I took photos of everyone decked out in their tights and shorts, while I kept toasty in my jeans and winter coat.

Dean ended up killing the half, coming in at 1:39. Not sure if he beat that dude, but he held his own fo' sho. Beth totally smoked the half as well, setting a personal record while looking fab at the same time. And Adam, though complaining his legs were "shredded," also finished with his fastest marathon time, with 3:34:37.

As for me, I didn't meet my latté PR (pre-race) goal, but I was able to secure one after the start, so obviously it was another successful marathon for me. This makes what, 10? I've walked probably 26 miles spectating during all those. Woo-wee. My legs feel shredded just thinking about it.