Splits:
1 - 9:13
2 - 8:36
3 - missed it!
4 - 18:17
5 - 9:03
6 - 8:57
7 - 9:20
8 - 8:56
9 - 8:22
10 - 9:02
11 - 8:52
12 - 9:03
13 - 9:02
13.1 - 0:55

Mile 1, there was a ton of traffic. The race was bigger than I thought! I had my watch set to beep and me if I was going to fast or too slow. It wouldn't shut up! It was set for me to go 1:55 to 1:58. We ran out 17th, and turned the corner to US1.
At Mile 2, we hit the tunnel under the New River. I hauled down the hill, dodging people the whole way. At the bottom of the tunnel were a steel drum player and a drummer! Too cool! I pushed hard up the hill, too, because I knew that the only elevation spots were here and the Las Olas bridge.
I kept trying to find a running buddy, but everyone else's pace seemed as sporadic as mine. Mile 3 brought us on to Las Olas, and we were headed to the beach. I got fed up with my watch and turned the alerts off. I had printed out a wristband with the total time I needed at each mile to hit 1:59:59 and it became my sanity check.
The Las Olas bridge was right at Mile 4. We got hit by the 10-15mph winds out of the east, with gusts to 25. It's been windy lately, so I was expecting it. I pushed harder.
The miles went by really quickly, which was great. Mile 7 was slow - it was the last mile before the turnaround on A1A. I picked it up for the turnaround and kept telling myself I was on the home stretch... even though it was 4.5 miles!
At one point, I caught up to a sub-2 pace from the gun time (which was displayed at all of the mile markers). I liked that, and tried to hang on to it.
I FINALLY saw the Mile 10 sign, and knew I had about a half hour to run the last 5k. No big deal, I could do it!
Mile 11 is where the hurt set in. The miles stopped flying by, and started slowly creeping past. I knew if I could hang on, I could go sub-2:00. But, I hurt.
I picked up a running buddy for a bit, but ditched him when he slowed down at an aid station. I had two miles to go - slowing down for Powerade and water was not an option.
I hit mile 12, and the complusive distance-checking set in. I probably looked at how far I had left to go at least a dozen times. "I can suffer for 1.1 more miles... I can suffer for 1.0 more miles... Only .8 to go, I can hold on..."
Those thoughts continued until I could FINALLY see the finishers chute. People started sprinting past me, but I didn't care. They didn't run the rest of the race hard enough, obviously ;).
I ran across the finish line and didn't want to walk anymore. I slowly hobbled to the volunteers handing out medals, and out of the chute.

Not set my watch to beep at me. Not leave my Shot Bloks in the car.

Walked around a bit. Picked up my morning gear bag. Had champagne. Got food. Cheered for some finishers. Had more champagne. Found shuttles back to the car.


If I trained specifically for this, I'm sure I could go faster. But, I'm really happy with my time.