My number one cheerleader

With just a few hours to go until the Great Bay Half Marathon I can't help thinking about something. It's not the surprisingly hilly course we drove yesterday or the perplexing 11am start time. The thought that has been buzzing around my head since Friday night is how amazing Wifey is.

She never signed up for this. She doesn't even like to run. But sure enough everytime I mention a new race in some far-flung city she is totally gung ho.

Friday night she was making sure I had GU packs and a hat before I even looked at my packing list. Yesterday afternoon she was concerned for all the hills, but said I'd be OK because I run in hilly Central Park. Last night she made sure we ate at an Italian restaurant--even though I told her to pick whichever cuisine she wanted.

I checked our wedding vows. There is no mention of being a weekend widow or having to deal with intricate details of my bowel movements or listening to the inane runner shop talk. But nonetheless she has made (and kept) a commitment to be at the start and finish of all of my races--which really means she has promised to sit and wait for hours on end while I'm off running some silly race.

I've never asked her to go crazy nuts over running, she has just supported me (half)blindly in all my crazy persuits and for that I am crazy for her. I love that she scratches my head after a long run. I love that she's concerned about the aches in my feet. And I love that this afternoon, whether I make my goal of 1:50 or have to crawl over the finish line, she will be there (with a towel) to give me a victory kiss.

Thank you number one cheerleader for being the best wife this runner could ask for.

(Apologies for any typos, I'm writing from my phone.)

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