Run, Ran, Rid
Last month, the OC runners (Kimee, Vu, and I) headed up to the “bridge city” to experience the San Francisco Marathon for the first time. Mark Twain once said,
“The coldest summer in my life was in San Francisco.”
And it certainly was. We ran through the clouds, the mist, and the drizzle with blood, sweat, and tears to finish the half marathon. The race began on the bayside of Embarcadero and ran through Fisherman’s Wharf, across the Golden Gate Bridge and back, and finished in the Great Park.
It was my longest half marathon, but having to contend with the forces of nature and lack of training in which we endured was still a successful trip. In two hours and twenty-two minutes, those were the most cold, wet, and testing of all marathons.