i'm typing this post with ice on my knees...

this morning, i wasn't even really all that sure i was going to run today. i packed my gym bag just in case - and i was pretty confident i'd do something. but i had no idea what. and absolutely no intention of doing what i did...

the longest i've ever run was a few weeks ago when i decided to do 10 miles fairly out of the blue. the run wasn't easy, but i made it through. and based on a level of confidence akin to that of a 20-year old college kid with enough liquor in him to kill a horse, i signed up for a half-marathon a couple days later. and since i started running in february, my average run distance has gone up (from about 5k per for the first few months, to 4.5 miles per in may and june, to about 10k in july). but i hadn't reached (or tried to reach) double digits again...

until tonite.

i set off with the intention to run to a point and back. i knew the 10 mile turnaround from having done it before, and there's a major intersection down the path a bit that i was running to. i figured it was another half-mile or so, so 11 miles was about the goal when i began. but as i ran, i kept convincing myself that 11 miles wasn't enough... 12 sounded so much better. so i was running for 12. and, of course, once i thought about that a little more i figured - what's another half-mile or so to the turn? i can totally do 13-point-1. so that's what i did...

now - granted - i did have to stop once to stretch at about mile 10. and i walked another minute and a half at mile 11.5. but i made it. half-marathon distance, a full seven weeks before the boulder backroads race. my knees are stiff as hell, i'm a little disappointed that i had to walk a bit of it. but six months ago i wasn't running, period. and today i ran way too far for my own good. well, for my knees' good. because my mind feels a wonderful sense of accomplishment...

overall: 13.1 miles, 1:53.42