Don’t Be Last

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Thanks to all of you that commented, phoned, and texted me with your support and encouragement on Saturday– Race Day/Beasley Moving Day. When I announced that I was running the Charlotte RaceFest on Moving Day, I had a few friends admit to me that they thought I was officially suffering from a nervous breakdown. I assured them that I haven’t…. yet… but be sure to tune in next time.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I submit this as proof that this actually happened…..

If you can get past the Goofy Victory Grin and the outta control ponytail, I’d just like to point out that I  WASN’T LAST!!! This being my first half-marathon, I set out to simply finish without having to walk any portion of the race. The night before the big day, however, I lay awake thinking, “Not only do I want to finish… I want to finish before the last guy does.” Right around mile four, I told myself that if I could just out-run the power-walker, the backwards jogger, and the girl in the highlighter-pink T-shirt that read, “Don’t Be Last”, I would satisfy my inner-challenger. And I did! If you’ve ever run a road race, you know that the sideline cheerleaders are the ultimate speed-inducer. There were people sitting out in front of their houses with their blankets and their coffee mugs clapping and cheering. One woman veered off course to kiss her husband {well, I assume it was her husband} holding a sign that said, “This isn’t the hardest thing you’ve ever done.” And you know what, it’s true! Any of you that have given birth {or suffered an actual nervous breakdown} can attest to that. A slumber party of middle school girls met us at the end of their driveway in their pjs with a string of high-fives, and at one point, I was so motivated, I started clapping for the police officer who was directing the race traffic. I felt the neighborhood love and what can I say, I simply wanted to give back.

All of that, and this was waiting for me just beyond the finish line…

Hugs and congrats from Team Salina {or Team Mommy for two out of the four little ones}. Even the onsie was sporting #runthistown on the back. Seriously, way to make a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown feel like a total rock star. The race adrenaline lasted me through the Beasley Family Epic Move of 2012 later that day. I was so amped, I couldn’t fall asleep that night. Sore {good heavens was I sore} but amped, nonetheless.

Speaking of this-isn’t-the-hardest-thing-you’ve-ever-done… I have to go dig my family out from beneath a sea of moving boxes. Updates and pics of the new pad to come…

Have a great week, and DON’T BE LAST!

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