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Today is such a weird day. It's a cold morning in Los Angeles. My east coast family is under siege from 'The Perfect Storm,' and I'm recovering from my first half marathon. Yes, you read that right...I, MackDiva, being of questionable mind and out-of-shape body, actually participated in an athletic endeavor over the weekend.

What made me do it? The initial reason was to be with my cousin. She runs marathons as a tribute to beating cancer a couple of years ago. She was the one who told me about it, and I said I'd sign up, too. Well, she changed her mind because she had some other family obligations. Of course, by the time I found out she wouldn't be coming, I was already committed had already paid. Horrid, right?

I thought I'd be able to make the best of it. At first, I was trying to train. I would update my Facebook and Twitter regularly with my exploits. Then reality set in I got bored with the concept. So I stopped. Honestly, I would've dropped out, but I'd paid for it by then...and I was NOT going to waste anyone's money! I tried to get back into training mode, but I just couldn't. And then race day came.

To say it was brutal was a gross understatement. I figured it couldn't be that bad since I was walking. What a crock of delusion and denial. The first couple of miles were okay. By the third mile, I was definitely feeling it. Pain became my friend at mile four, and I wanted to quit right then. Thankfully, the sag wagon made it possible for me to stick it out.

What is the sag wagon, you ask? Because the race was timed, they had to make sure that everyone was off the course in a sufficient amount of time. If your pace was slower than the predetermined time frame, the wagon would pick you up and drop you off somewhere along the course. While I saw other people acting like the sag wagon was a bad thing, I embraced it for the relief that it was.

At mile six, I met up with a couple of ladies who were -- like me -- doing their first half-marathon. One of them wanted to turn around at the halfway point. At first, I was glad to know that I wasn't the only one who wanted to quit. But then I was like, "Why quit now?" I was able to convince her, too, and we both "ran" across the finish line -- and believe me, I use that term loosely. Even though it was the only time during the race we moved that fast, it made the pictures look good.

Afterwards, though, I was in a world of serious hurt. While I walked the whole thing, my legs and lower back were in strict rebellion against me. Thankfully, one of my more athletic friends gave me the right tips to recover. Two days later, I'm almost back to normal.

So what did I learn? I'll never to do any sort of running endeavor without training. I only say it because it's true. Don't go out there like I did. Unless you're some sort of athletic savant, you WILL regret it.

And I've ALREADY signed up for my next half-marathon. My cousin said she'd come out in February to do it with me, and I'm really excited about the possibility of actually doing all 13.1 miles. Training starts next week, and with that, my diet will have to change, too. Pray for a sista...

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