As is a tradition for most people, a Turkey Day run is a great way to start a day of gluttony. A side note, I ended up not eating too much.  I got to race with a best friend, and mother of my god child, and her father.  I woke up early because the closest race to the beach house we were staying was an hour away from the race.  This is ironic because the race was practically across the street from my parents house.

The morning was cold, as you can see by the photo which was taken after the race.  We warmed up and hopped back in the car until race start.  They finally lined us up and we began the race.  This course reminded me how much hills are not in my racing vocabulary.  It's amazing how when a race starts at the top of a hill you some how forget about it at the end of the race. I kept a great pace for the first 2 miles, but man that last mile was a killer. I pushed through the hill and beat a guy I had my sights since mile 1 at the finish.  You knew I wasn't going to just let him beat me.

I was so proud to see Erin and her dad cross the finish line. It's always awesome to see your friends race hard. Sometimes I get more excited for them than for me. Both posted impressive times and looked strong. Looking forward to racing with them soon.

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