For the most part it felt like one of our training runs. The three of us chatted and joked and loped along easily. Lisa's husband Dan popped up on his bike at mile intervals to cheer us on and we foolishly commented that it was "pretty easy". We really should know better.
At mile 9 Arnold had to speed up and leave because after 1.5 hours you need to run at exactly your pace, not faster or slower because is starts to hurt. At mile 10 Lisa and I hit what I call the "quiet zone" where you are just too freaking tired to be able to make conversation. You don't have the breath or mental energy left. At mile 11 Lisa had to speed up so she wouldn't stop. At mile 12 I started thinking that I might have to let her go without me. I am not a fast runner. It was really hard. Not impossible, but realllllllly hard.
At mile 13 with the finish line in sight, Lisa turned to me and said "Do you have anything left?" and I said "No." I was already gasping for air. She said, "Okay I am going to sprint over the finish line." I was so sad. Over the past month I imagined myself running flat out over the finish line a million time and now that it was in my reach, I had nothing left.
And well, I might be short, small and not particularly athletic but anyone will tell you, I am not a loser and I don't like being left behind. Too tired to actually trash talk Lisa my mind rallied to my bodies side "Maghanoys will not be dusted by Kilkennys."
We both sprinted the last .1 mile over the finish line like we were being chased by Godzilla.
It was so awesome.