Photo courtesy of Bri Nitsberg

Before the start: 

Alarms going off at some time around 4:45 a.m., we begrudgingly got out of bed to go run the half-marathon that some overly ambitious versions of ourselves signed up for months earlier. 

After a dark drive downtown and some questionable parking (we may or may not have moved a couple of cones to make our own parking spot), it was go time. Moments before the race, Ella Giere stretched and Bri Nitsberg pretended to stretch. All glittered up and running on zero rational-decision-making skills, we headed to the start line. We told ourselves that we would be running at a nice and easy “party pace.” 

Mile 1: 

Ella: The sunrise over the arch was beautiful. I felt so lucky to be able to move my legs and explore the city. 

Bri: I genuinely could not stop smiling. I had run a half-marathon and a full marathon in past years, but this was my first time running with friends, and I was so incredibly happy to be there. 

Mile 2: 

Ella: We were still feeling great, and we were passing people. Us. Passing people. 

Mile 3: 

Bri: Vibes were absolutely immaculate. According to my very broken Apple Watch, which I wasn’t sure would last the entirety of the race, we were running significantly faster than our planned “party pace.”

Ella: We started running across the Eads Bridge into Illinois and then back into Missouri. With hundreds of runners, the bridge began to shake. Just slightly. Just enough. I chose not to think about that.

Mile 4: 

Ella: At this point, we were crushing it. We entered Gateway Arch National Park and ran through a tree-lined path. The glitter was holding. Morale was high. We were athletes. We were running under a 10-minute pace and feeling the runner’s high.

Bri: I have to admit this race snuck up on me. The grand total of my individual training were two five-mile runs (both of which included many walking breaks and the occasional sitting break). The race day adrenaline was getting me through the miles, though, and I was feeling on top of the world. 

Mile 5: 

Ella: I genuinely believed that St. Louis was flat. I was very mistaken. My legs, for now, were still on board.

Mile 6: 

Bri: During our first walking break, I ate some arguably gross energy chews that felt impossible to chew. I tried my best to get Ella to eat something too; we needed all the energy we could get. 

Mile 7: 

Ella: We spotted two of our friends on the sideline. Seeing a familiar face at mile seven of a half-marathon is genuinely one of the top emotional experiences a human can have. We may have screamed. 

Bri: After seeing our friends, I mentally noted not to jump up and down screaming like a crazy person next time we saw them. I desperately needed to conserve the dwindling energy I had left. 

Photo courtesy of Bri Nitsberg

Mile 8: 

Bri: My Apple Watch appeared to have died or broken. I surrendered to running the rest purely on vibes.

Ella: This was the farthest I had ever run in my life at that point! My lack of training started to creep up on me. We saw more of our amazing friends who made amazing signs to cheer us on. We would have cried tears of joy if we had the hydration to spare.

Mile 9: 

Ella: Toward the end of the mile, I was getting nauseous from the small handful of Swedish Fish I had eaten. Bri, ever the rationalist, told me I could throw up at mile 10. Thankfully, I didn’t. The Swedish Fish survived. So did I, barely.

Bri: As we were running toward Lafayette Park, Ella said she had to throw up, and I began to panic. She wanted to take a walking break, and in fear of her puking if we did, I told her, “Let’s run to the corner of the street, and then we’ll take a break.” We got to the corner, and I think she forgot about throwing up.

Mile 10: 

Ella: Pain. Just pure, unfiltered pain. A very nice older man told me I could keep running, and I chose to believe him even though my legs were gone. Bri was the best pacer in the entire world and encouraged me to repeat a mantra over and over in my head — a genuine act of friendship I will never forget. “Champagne Problems” by Taylor Swift came up on my playlist, and that was a mistake. I didn’t mean to add that. It was not the motivational energy I needed. I do not recommend running through existential slow-burn heartbreak pop at mile 10.

Mile 11: 

Bri: I kept saying the same three phrases of encouragement to Ella because I was so tired and I couldn’t think of anything else. You got this. You have more in you. You are so much stronger than you think. Every time I gave her the same words of wisdom, random runners around us kept thinking I was talking to them. I guess the more the merrier.

Ella: I was incredibly grateful for Bri’s encouraging words. It was time to put on Hamilton. This was not a casual decision. This one was strategic. “My Shot” does something to a person. I became a different woman.

Bri: There were these random blown-up arches towards the middle of mile 11 that I thought meant we only had a mile left, a fact which I very loudly proclaimed to Ella and the rest of the runners around us. I was very wrong and seemed to have just made up this fact.

Mile 12: 

Bri: I swear whoever made this course was lying to us because there was absolutely no way mile 12 was only one mile. As we passed the mark where the half-marathon and full marathon split up, I said to Ella, “At least we aren’t running a full marathon right now.” Unfortunately for me, the woman running directly next to us was, in fact, running the full marathon and did not seem too happy about my remark. 

Mile 13: 

Bri: By this point, I had told Ella the finish line was right around the corner for the past three different corners, so finally seeing the actual thing was a relief for many reasons.

Ella: There it was. The finish line. The glitter was still inexplicably intact. We crossed together, which felt right, because there was genuinely no version of this day that made sense without the other person in it. 

Bri: As we crossed the finish line, I went to hug Ella, and she said something along the lines of, “If I hug you, I’m going to collapse.” We hugged anyway and then proceeded to fill our arms with free snacks, both in shock and relief that we were done. 

Photo courtesy of Bri Nitsberg

After the finish:

We finished in 2:24, which exceeded our expectations for the “party pace” we planned. We got our medals. We took dozens of photos. We went and got brunch. And then we went to our respective apartments to wash the glitter out of our hair and nap the rest of the day.