13.1

I have adopted a new mantra after my trip to the land of milk and honey (and big hair, fake tans and great shopping) .

No, it's not "wow, I am so pasty!" but an entirely different kind of thing.

It is:

I can do hard things.

The Salt Lake City Half-marathon was a blast.

I thought for sure I was going to die because of a number of things (in no particular order)-the altitude, lack of training, a giant unforeseen hill in the middle of the course, a non-cooperative knee among many other things.

I instead found myself really surprised by how fun all 13.1 miles were.

Don't get me wrong, there was some panting, sweating and a very long mile 11.

But I think the hardest part of the whole race came before it even began.

My Mom (like most) can't leave any place without taking a trip to the ladies' room.

The race was no exception.

Unfortunately this routine stop turned into 45 minutes waiting in line for a honey bucket.

I watched her line crawl ahead as runners zoomed past me to start the race.

15 minutes after the race officially began my blood was boiling.

I was ticked.

But I had to make a decision-

be mad at my for Mom for 2+ hours for something that wasn't her fault

OR

get over it and get pumped for the long road ahead.

I chose the latter and was blessed!

I'm so glad it's over, but I feel so empowered.

I encourage all of you to do something like this.

You may be surprised with the result.

I now know that I can do hard things.

All of us at the finish line. Rach and Kristina did the 5k (woot!woot!)

Kudos to our dedicated cheering squad for getting up at 4:45am to go with us.