Runner's high.

As I stood shivering in my tank top in the half-light of Sunday morning, I couldn't help but wonder, "Why in the world am I doing this again?" Like, maybe when I had signed up a few months earlier to run 13 miles, I hadn't been seriously considering how comfortable my bed is. I wondered how many of the other 11,000 people there were thinking the same thing. But after training for weeks and quickly destroying the cold virus that had threatened me earlier in the week (including some Googling to contradict my friend's claim that high volumes of Vitamin C can lead to kidney stones), I wasn't about to turn back.

Thankfully, it was a beautiful day for a run, with clear skies and a cool breeze. My favorite part of the race was around mile 8, when--after coming out of Central Park and before turning down the West Side Highway toward the site of the World Trade Center--the course took us through midtown. There's something about being in a sea of runners going through Times Square while total strangers cheer you on that is pretty hard to beat. It was the perfect adrenaline boost for the last half of the race.

Photo from New York Road Runners

(Incidentally, my second favorite part was the group of people around mile 11 holding a sign that read "High Five Station" and slapping our hands as we ran past.)

My goal for my first one was basically to not die, which I managed pretty well and finished in 2 hours 20 minutes. This time, I was shooting for 2 hours. My official finish time was 2:00:23. I'll take it. And besides, I'll have a chance to break the 2-hour mark in 9 weeks, when I run the Brooklyn half marathon. I'm taking a week off while I hobble around on ridiculously sore legs like an 80-year-old, and then it's back to training. I think maybe I'm a glutton for punishment.