Sunday was an early morning! The boys were up at 5, I rolled out a bed shortly after that. Dad was bustling around the kitchen a little nervous. At the expo the day before, he looked over at me and said, "what am I DOING here??" We all had our power breakfast of bananas and pb and j and piled into the car for the trek to portland for the race. Mom, superfan, came along for the ride. She left us at the start, telling us to meet by B's tallest friend at the finish line. (He wanted to know where he would meet!)
Dad and I started off slowly. It was a perfect day for running--cool, not raining. The course was beautiful; nearly peak foliage and views of the back cove. On our way through a residential neighborhood, a spectator reminded us to enjoy the view. I spent most of the first few miles thankful that my knees didn't hurt. By mile 6 or so, I was definitely starting to feel them. Just before the turnaround, we saw B, S, and C heading in the other direction, which was both cool and humbling, since they're so much faster than we are. We saw Mom on the side of the road cheering us on, which was a great boost! Up the hill at mile 6.5, I had to walk, my legs just wouldn't take it. I don't know how I made it from mile 7-10. Those are just a blur!
Somewhere in there, Dad and I met up with another father-daughter team and bonded with them briefly on route 1. We also saw a dead deer on the side of the road. Gross. I guess the cosmos felt I needed to have the full Maine experience this weekend? By mile 10, we were visualizing the start of a 5k--we knew we could do that! I was praying to every deity out there for my legs to carry me to the finish. Being injured is so frustrating. I wasn't tired, and cardio wise, I could've run all day, but my stupid legs just wouldn't have it.
By mile 11, we were back over the bridge in Portland. Mile 12 felt positively endless, around the back cove again. There were no spectators until we got closer to the finish, but we did encounter a woman doing intervals who said that she would pretend Dad was her surrogate, as her dad had been gone for a long time. It was really amazing how many people said something about the two of us running together. That is something I'll remember for a long time, especially Dad looking behind him to make sure I was there. When we got a few hundred yards from the finish line, he reached back and grabbed my hand and pulled me along with him. We ran over the line together, saw Mom, B and several friends cheering us on. Even the announcer called our names out over the PA system as we were crossing, naming us a "father-daughter team!"
I've been pretty sore after the race, and my physical therapist made me promise to take a break from running for awhile while I work to address some of these injuries. I think Dad is feeling pretty good. Who knows, we may see him out there for the whole 26.2 sometime soon!
