Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of the congrats on my Wineglass PR! A few weeks after the fact, I’m no longer on Cloud 9 about reaching my long-reached-for-but-never-achieved sub-2:30 goal. I’m still on an adjacent cloud, like Cloud 6. That race day was a very good day that I’ll continue to draw on when the going gets tough. Because the going always gets tough. That’s just the way going goes.

Tanja and I at the Pit Run start. She ran her first half this year like a champ.

Because Wineglass was a week earlier than usual this year, I was able to pin a number on for the Pit Run, my local 5/10K. Other 10Ks have their charms but the Pit Run course will always have my heart. It nearly pounds out of my chest on the big hill in the middle of the course. Even though it is the hill I live on (and have run up more times than I can count), tackling it as part of the Pit Run is always more exhausting because I don’t want to stop, walk, and swear in front of my neighbors.

Which is why I opted for the 5K this year. I didn’t have 6.2 in my legs and a nice little scamper through the park seemed like more fun. Despite the 90 percent humidity and occasional drizzle, it was. Any starting line I can walk to from my own bathroom guarantees a good race, no matter what my finishing time is.

The race ends with a grilled chicken lunch. The smell alone pulls you to the finish line. #EarnYourChicken

I’ve been thinking a lot about what comes next. For now, the idea of trying to beat my PR (did you know I just set a new PR?) makes me want to throw up a little bit. I discovered during this weekend’s long run that I still have the speed and focus for one zippy mile but maintaining two zippy miles is a non-starter. That may change, mind you, but right now, I’m good with ambling along.

In a text chain, a BAMR friend floated the idea of running a half in every state. I poo-poo’d it at first, because I am a poo-poo’er by nature, but the idea is starting to grow on me. Running a couple of half marathons every year seems like it’s within my reach. I looove to travel and haven’t seen anywhere near enough of the U.S. yet. Mostly, though, a woman’s got to have a quest in this life and I can think of very few reasons why this shouldn’t be mine.

At first, I figured I’d already knocked out at least ten states, given all of the places I’ve run because of AMR. When I isolated races that started with pinning on a number and ended with a medal, there were six. While I’ve run a bunch of half-marathons total, many of them have been the same race over a series of years. I love the Pittsburgh and the Wineglass weekends, mind, but it’s time to see something new.

With 44 states left and, realistically, at best, 25 more prime running years, that’s less than two races per year. Plus, if my plans hold, I’ll knock Massachusetts off during the upcoming retreat. Plus, plus, the rest of New England should be fairly easy. Plus, plus, plus, I’ve decided that I don’t have to run any of these races with any great haste; I just have to get from the start to the finish on my own two feet. That seems reasonable, yes? I have myself about 80 percent convinced that it is.

Like a Bachelorette at the beginning of the season, I haven’t yet given any races a rose. The Anchorage half is on my “maybe” list, just because SBS seemed to dig it. I kind of want to do the Little Rock half simply so that I can stay in the Capital Hotel again. Other than that, I don’t have any strong feelings — but suspect you do.

Which 13.1’s do you love and why?