I ran the Wisconsin half and crossed the finish line in a gut-wrenching sprint to the end, and I promise to give you all the dirty details.
Later.
But it would be rude, in my struggle to put experience into words, to deny you with this.
After all, this weekend was more than just 13.1 miles and a few goals. The race was about being with friends no longer in the computer.
Sarah and me post-finish
And thanking my lucky stars they didn't shank me for missing the meet-up because I was in the port-a-potty line.
It was about meeting a fellow nuunie and future teammate Lindsay who is even cuter and sweeter in person. (I'm sure I'll see the twisted side come August.)
It was about offering a toast to accomplishments and friendship.
And, most importantly, eating a big burger after 13.1 miles. With a side of fries. Dipped in ranch.
Because that's how I roll.
P.S. I hate all of these ladies for looking 1000 percent better than me in these photos. I think I need to start wearing makeup to races.
P.P.S. Just kidding.
P.P.P.S. Sort of.
