40:11

Hot run. Everyone broke into smiles around three quarters of the way through where a spritzer was set up to cool us off. In the mugginess, the sweat, spritz, and cups of water dumped on my head were not evaporating.

Still fun. I started out in the last starting pen because I had estimated my pace at an 11 minute mile at registration. There are thousands of seriously overconfident (or clueless) registrants out there, because there were herds of people ahead of me who ended up running at a 13-15 minute pace. By the time I hit the starting line, I could already see the elite runners all the way on the other side of the park. I was a bit disappointed that I didn't get to see them up close.

The first mile and half was a lot of weaving between very slow runners and bobbing and leaning out of the way of people faster and more frustrated than myself. I had no idea how quickly I should have been running. I found a woman about my age who seemed to be going not crazy quickly but was clearly in better shape than I am and a great weaver. I kept three steps behind her until the three mile mark, which is where the long hill started and I couldn't (read: didn't really want to) keep up. I looked for my cheerleader in the 70s, gave up on him in the 80s, and saw that smile and wave in the 90s, right where I needed it for a little bounce in my starting-to-drag step.

For the fourth and last mile, I alternated between bursts of powerful steps to the beat of my music and just wanting to stop and walk already. The NYRR volunteers are awesome, and it's amazing how nice it feels to have strangers make eye contact and cheer you on at end with reminders that we'd made it and the finish was just around the corner.

At the finish, I dumped one more cup of water down my throat and one down my shirt, grabbed a wonderful tart apple and a french toast bagel.

I'm happy with my 10 minute mile pace and happier that I felt good before, during, and after.