Back Home Again in Indiana
Remember when I thought I could totally handle walking the Mini? Oh how naive I was. Here’s how the Mini goes: the first 5 miles are pretty good, the next 5 are a little brutal, and the last 3 you’re praying for the sweet release of death. But then you get to the end, someone drapes a medal over your head like the Olympic champion you are, and you realize the pain and agony is 100% worth it.
Just kidding. What really happens is you get to the end, realize you have to walk another 2 miles back to your car, and fight the urge to cry. But those tears can’t be fought when you’re lying in bed that night, praying for the sweet release of death for the second time that day because your legs are so sore you can’t sleep. Your husband may or may not have to make you ice packs and run out for Tylenol at midnight just to make you stop talking about amputation.
As you can tell, I really enjoyed my Mini experience and can’t wait to do it all again next year!
Actually, I’m really glad we did it – mostly because my Type A self can’t say no to a medal but also because I can now say I’ve done something with my life. I don’t care if you’re running, walking, or crawling, 13.1 miles nonstop is a major life accomplishment. . .just not one I’ll ever see again.