Two years and five months ago, I was sitting at my son’s cross-country banquet when one of the fathers encouraged me to try to run a half-marathon. We had been talking about running, of course, I mean, what else would you talk about at a banquet for runners? My response to his ridiculous idea was something like, “I don’t think I could ever run a half-marathon.”
Yesterday, I ran my second half-marathon. It was the same one I ran last year, the Country Music Marathon right here in Nashville. My finishing time was 2:16, which was three minutes slower than last year’s time. But time is of secondary importance to me. My only goal heading into these things is to be able to run the entire 13.1-mile course all the way through without stopping or walking. This accomplished, I was satisfied with the endeavor.
Even though it was cloudy and a pleasant 59 degrees at the start, it had rained earlier in the morning so that the humidity was still unpleasantly high, and so I got tired earlier and wore down quicker than last year. But I finished, and that’s what mattered most.