I blame the adrenalin. Really I do.
What else could have prompted me to do this mid fun run, and as a consequence end up in our newspaper the next day?

(photo courtesy of The West Australian)
Interestingly it was captioned "a lighthearted moment."
Which it was.
Most of the run was sheer,bloody concentration and focus.
See evidence below:
The night before the run I re-read sections of my idol Dean Karnazes book and a few sentences about calling on my inner reserves of courage when I hit a wall stayed with me.
All through the run whenever I felt tired I would keep thinking was it time? Was it time for me to recall his exact words or could I carry on without them? And for 14 whole kilometres I was able to do without them. My stats show that when I met my pacer, the girl in the red tank-top I actually ran the second half much faster than the first half. I hit a wall entering the final stretch coming into the stadium. My feet felt like cement and I. Just. Wanted. To. Stop.
And I remembered his words and then something magic happened. I heard a cheer go up for me and suddenly my feet had wings.
I sprinted the last part of the run.
Thanks mum and dad.
My official time was 1 hour and 45 minutes.
I trained for a 14km fun run in just over 7 weeks. It's 3 months to the half marathon.
I can't wait.

Tomorrow I have a date. Not with my husband. Being the sweet man he is though, he has given me his blessing to go on this date. In preparation for said date I have groomed myself appropriately. I have clothes freshly laundered and laid out in anticipation of my date.
One downside is that I won't be wearing make-up. My date will have to accept me as I am, dark circles under eyes and all.
Every time I think about the impending date (which is alot) I get very nervous.
Did I mention my date is with a Handsome Man? (who from now on will be referred to as HM) And he (legend has it) has a wonderful, ahem, physique.
But his looks mean nothing to me. No, really, they don't.
I want something from this man. Something that Husband can't give me.
Yes.
You guessed right.
I am starting group training with some other lovely ladies under the supervision of HM for my half marathon later this year. Whilst training for myself and Husband is going well and we are both motivating and pushing each other to do better, I've hit a hurdle.
I can't go fast.
I can run quite a long way. 12 km was my most recent distance. But being built for comfort rather than speed I can't up my pace.
And so, a sweet friend told me the secret.
HM.
He apparently trains women JUST LIKE ME.
And they end up winning marathons apparently.
Now I have absolutely no intention of a) running a full marathon b) winning anything.
But I would like to finish the forthcoming fun-run and half marathon later this year, before the organisers have reopened the streets to traffic, or I've endured the shame of DNF being printed in our local paper.
So tomorrow my sympathetic parents are minding Mr Small and I am going on a date with HM.
It won't be romantic at all.
But I am promised an increased heart-rate while on my date, and lots of rushing adrenalin. Which is almost as exciting.
But not as exciting as the possibility of kicking my husband's proverbial in the half marathon in August.
I haven't told him that bit though.