I came, I saw, I ran 5.5 miles on about 3 hours of sleep.
Lesson learned: no more early morning races. Especially if they're an hour away.
But I'm still glad I did it. Part of it was murderous -- I definitely angered my knee and then some -- but there were few things as relieving as crossing the finish line, getting my medal, and being able to say I did it.
The race reminded me why I run in the first place. It reminded me why I love races. There's an energy about races that you don't get when you just jog around the block. And there's this feeling of zen when you run outside for a long time that you just don't get when you go to the gym and use the elliptical.
It reminded me that while I am taking a running sabbatical of at least a month, if not more, I'm not giving up on it yet. The Chicago Marathon might be in limbo now, but who knows what the future holds.
And it was also nice to just get to run in my city. I was running through the streets of Boston, past the World Trade Center, into the Heart of Boston, around the Common and back. How often can you say the city of Boston shut down their street to let you (and 12,000 other runners) go running?
And now, I'm going to enjoy what I couldn't last night: the main UFC fights, some delicious Pad Thai, and -- finally -- some rest.
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