My Own Finish Line

This weekend I ran a 10K. I hadn't really been training...only running a bit more frequently since I decided to wake up early on a chilly weekend morning and run 6.2 miles. The beginning of the race was horrible. I found myself begging for the mile 1 marker, but when I passed it, I thought "Great, I have five more of these to go." The unnaturally hot summer had let up only a week before, and my lungs were unused to having cool fall air to inhale and exhale. A split second after mile 2, my eyes searched for the next mile marker. "Don't look for it," I forced myself to think. "Just enjoy where you are." I looked around at the Washington monuments around me. The sun was moving forward into the sky, and I could tell it was going to be a beautiful autumn day. I slowed a little. People began to pass me, but I didn't care. I had found a rhythm. Suddenly the air felt brisk instead of painfully cold, my leg muscles awoke, and the adreline began pumping throughout my body. Mile 3 came and I soon reached the halfway point and turned around. People kept passing me. It's weird, in the middle of a large race, I felt comfortably alone. Their energy inspired me, and motivated me, but at the same time, I cherished the time by myself, to focus on taking one pace at a time until I had reached the finish. I made it in 55:26, a personal best (although to be fair, I've only done one other 10K). Immediately after the race, I was exhausted. Later on, my legs began to feel sore. But it was worth it.