I Made the 13 Miles…

Last fall, with great plans to keep dropping the weight which went by the way because of a bunch of great excuses, I had signed up for a half marathon today in the outskirts of Las Vegas. (Half Marathon is 13.1 miles… About 27,000 of my steps)

But since the weight loss had failed completely over the winter and I have actually gained almost ten pounds since the heady days of sending in that application, I wasn’t going to do it. And also since I had not run one step in over three weeks and even had a bunch of days I didn’t hit my 10,000 step goal, I wasn’t going to do it.

Sensible, right?

You all know where this is heading…

Last night at 10 pm, without help of booze or drugs, I decided I would go do the half marathon anyhow.

Got up at 5 am and at 7:15 am I actually ran across the starting line.

I can only claim old age and a life-long desire to be frighteningly more stupid than any one human should be allowed to be.

And what was worse, unlike the 13 miles on the last half marathon I did in Vegas in November, this one was all in the foothills. Exactly 12 feet of the course was actually flat. The course crossed the freeway at the half mile mark and then just over 4 miles later finally got to one of the top points of the race course. All uphill and into the wind and if we had gone any higher we would have been climbing red rocks. (I walked the entire hill with a guy 52 and a woman 55. Both were stunned when I told them I was 68. At the top of the hill they soon left me in the dust.)

Upshot is that I crossed the finish line, thirty-six minutes faster than I had done the one in November when I was injured.

I got a medal at the end for finishing. I expected the medal to read “World’s Stupidest Human.”  I would have earned that one.

But I did finish. Now to work on getting in shape and actually losing the weight.

Sort of backwards, I must admit.