We Eat Hills for Breakfast.
Well...we all survived.
Congratulations, Hurley! You're a badass in my book (well, you always have been...but this just reaffirmed what we all already knew). Great job, friend.
It was 13.1 miles of concrete, hills, sweat and sunshine. Nary a cloud in the sky and the weatherman lied--it was most definitely hotter than 65 degrees.
Mike and I ran with our friend Hurley as he set out to complete his first half marathon (no doubt, after the aches and pains subside...there will be more). He set the pace and we followed suit with smiles and encouragement abound...at least until about mile 11...then Mike and I started to exchange glances questioning who should bust out the bull whip first to get him to pick up the pace (and pick it up he did!).
Hurley did fantastic and beat the time goal he had in his head. And even had fun in the process, despite some achilles pain and the underestimation of the hills (and I don't remember a few of those being as bad as they actually were). And so, after a first breakfast of bagels at 5am. We had a second breakfast of hills for 2 hours and 52 minutes.
It was an epic day of highs and lows. And surprisingly...I felt fantastic after it was over even with the lack of training. In fact, Hurley's wife, Erin, said it didn't even look like I was sweating. I think it probably hurt more than I realized...I'm convinced that my threshold for pain is significantly altered after Ironman.
Here's a look at some of the fun we had along the way...