13.1

A bunch of crazy moms 30 minutes away from running the Galveston half. Crazier than that is when they trained at 4:30 Friday mornings so they'd be home in time to get school-age kids out the door.

This pic is sooo deceiving. The hardcore chicks on either side of me look like they've had better days. In contrast, I look like I've run the one mile fun run. If you only knew how that really went down. I don't have a desire to EVER do this again--minus that overwhelming feeling of I-HAVE-to-get-a-better time-than-that-next-time. But I did finish. And I owe a rather large THANK-YOU to Leslie--the veteran running friend of mine that I (easily) convinced to fly in from Arizona to run with me. The same friend that at mile 5 was told that she'd have to keep the conversation flowing as I was winded. Then at mile 7 to stop talking because at this point I would no longer be a good listener. After which, I think it was somewhere around 8 or 9 that I dropped a few paces behind and when she turned to check on me I told her to stay in front of me. And she did stay in front of me. Except for the couple of times that she came jogging back with a smile on her face to ask if I was really sure I wanted her 20 paces ahead? "Really, because it's kind of boring up there" she said. To that I vaguely remember replying, "Yeah, I know, just get back up there." Such a brat I am. Can I claim delirium?? I keep saying that the really good memories that stem from this race come in the form of good friends. You are the best, Leslie!

Loved my little fan club. They took a break from wading in waves to cheer us on at mile 8. Did I mention it was 70 degrees at start time? And, of course, they were there at the finish line too. Great pics, Kyle.