If you want to find serious people with splits on their arms grinding along on a mission, run a half marathon in San Antonio.
If you want to find joy, run a 5k with a hundred kids.
Splits? What’s a split. Pace? Not happening. They’re running the ultimate fartleks: chasing after a friend, a seagull, a crabby old man.
Sometimes you forget that running is supposed to be about having fun.
It just takes an 8-year-old crossing a finish line to make you remember.
Thanks, guys. Good race.