Classic Kathryn

I finished the Crescent City Classic in 66:24.  Over 2 minutes more than my goal time, which was pretty disappointing.  That's why I've compiled a list of reasons that I was unable to finish 6.2 miles in the goal I set myself: the heat, the [lack of] altitude, the wall of chubby walkers pushing double wide strollers I had to weave through, the heat, the late start time, the position of the sun, and the crappy New Orleans streets riddled with cracks and potholes - just to name a few.  Totally not my fault I couldn't run faster.

But now I know - for my next 10K on June 2 - 66:24 is the time I'll have to beat!

Matching headbands! Gifts from Dad.

Ready to Run!

And an 'Awkward Runner' picture:

When I picture myself running, I look a lot more cool, calm and collected than this.

And of course, it wouldn't be my life without a ridiculous story at the end - so here goes.  After crossing the finish line, herds of runners continued down a path to the after party collecting water bottles, gatorades, and Muscle Milk.  Never one to turn down a free, um, anything - I suddenly found myself juggling four bottles right before I entered the festival grounds.  I stepped onto the grass to put away my phone, tuck my shirt into my belt and better handle the bottles - placing those on the ground while I situated.  Finally collected, I picked the bottles back up, cradling them in my arms like a baby.  About 10 steps later, I felt the first pinch, then the next and the next.  Looking down, the bottles were covered in ants which were hastily crawling all over my torso, and arm, and legs.  

19 bites later, I looked something like this:

And this week, I look like I have chicken pox.

Ugh, Classic Kat.