I did it.

I ran the race.

I finished.

I didn't die.

True, my "official" time was 42:40, but you know how race starts can be, I started out far enough back in the "non-competitors" area that it took me about 4 and a half minutes to get to the starting line.

We took a team picture at 6:30 PM, then I hung around and waited for a while, downing a bottle of water in the process. At 7:00, we marched out of our tent to the sounds of bagpipes played by Lex Sleeman. Didn't I just do that last weekend for graduation?

It was slow starting the race. We were all bunched up, and it took a while for us to get going. Since there were so many walkers there, I had to take to the edge of the street, and even up to the grass a few times to get moving.

I ran the whole way to the first water station, about 1.5 miles in. I passed a brigade of Rochester Police Department officers, running in time and giving cadence calls. It was nice since it started downhill, but got much worse as I hit the bottom of the hill, because there was a pretty steep climb up the hill.

I took to walking at the first water break, so I could sip my water and get a breather. One and a half cups of water down the gullet, the other half cup on my head to cool me off. I kept walking for a few minutes after the water break, until I heard the familiar cadence of the RPD calling from behind me. I knew it was time to get moving again.

I ran past the RIT tent which was set up along, then past the St. John's home and turned onto Resevoir Dr. The people there were really nice. The second water break came at the 2.5 mile mark. I walked through this one too, but only for a little while until I downed the water. Then it was back to running the race. The road here was a little more bumpy, but much more senic as we made our way though some residential back streets near the north side of Highland Park. We started a decent downhill stretch, which was wonderful to my legs.

We ran up South Ave. for a short ways, then over to a rough road, Highland Parkway. The climb took us back uphill, and I could hear the RPD runners getting louder. "They have found me! I need to leave the country!" I yelled out in a bad foreign accent, much to the humor of the runners around me. We followed the curve around past Colgate Divinity School. Some kind residents were out with squirt guns, hosing down some willing runners.

The road turned downhill a short ways to Highland Drive again, and I saw the most beautiful sign in the world: "Mile 3", which meant only a half a mile was left in my journey. I knew in my heart that the race would be mine. I would finish it well. This pushed me on to the end, reaching it in my personal best time for 3.5 miles, 38:20.

The feeling of crossing that finish line was exhilirating. I set my goal and i achieved it. Or maybe it was the urge of "Okay, I'd better reach that finish line soon, all this water I drank today makes me really want to pee."

Regardless, I sat back down in the RIT tent, content with knowing that I truly did make it.