Sighting

I saw you around mile 11–12, in light blue shorts with a sweatshirt tied around your waist and a strappy top. You were running alongside someone in pink shorts and big headphones, looked like a solid running buddy pair.

In front of you were a couple of guys I remember too: one in all black, and another rocking a bright blue outfit with matching blue compression sleeves. That’s when I realized I was in the middle of the most colorful stretch of the race.

Meanwhile, I was the guy in the loud American flag shorts (stars on one leg, stripes on the other), hydration vest strapped on, rainbow headband, and trying to convince himself that “first half marathon” pace is still heroic. I finished in 2:37, not exactly sprinting, but I’ll take it for my debut.

Didn’t get the chance to actually say anything out there (breathing took priority), but if you remember passing a flag-short-wearing rookie near the rumble strip sign, that was me. Maybe I couldn’t keep pace with you then, but I’d love to catch up for a drink sometime instead.

Drinks