…and some of us were now extemporaneously subjecting ourselves to unhcartered levels of tourism.

And this is also a Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon- and for me it is my first experience. I appreciated the bands playing and yelling out to us as we trotted past.

Races present great opportunities to people watch, and I was impressed by this guy’s running attire as I moved through the crowd. As I neared him in order to snap a photo, I could see that he was running with something. From the back, I thought that it might be an American flag. As I got closer, I saw the United States Coast Guard crest. Me being a military service member myself, I asked him if he was a Coastie (he was) and we discussed where we were stationed. (His observation on my duty station: “Senegal’s kind of a long commute, isn’t it?”) I’m not super chatty during races (breathing is far more enjoyable), so I wished him a good race and moved on. I never did find out what the flag was for, but I did manage to score this fantastic blurry image of him as I moved past.

Whoever plotted out this race course did a great job. I have to say that throughout almost all of it, I had a big smile on my face. It probably goes without saying that the ocean is almost a compulsory ingredient of my lifeblood, so I was thrilled that we were routed down to the very edge of the ocean on such a pristine and sparkling day. Here we just passed another band that was giving us high fives as we passed.

I told you we were right next to the ocean. As I looked out from this vantage point, I was reminded of another favorite sight of mine: Dublin’s city stacks found at the end of the Liffey. But I digress…

Looping back inland, we were taken through a number of neighborhoods. It was really great to see people either standing at their front gates or at their living room windows and waving to us. It definitely helped to move me along.

I think everyone knows that Edinburgh is known just as much for its architecture as it is for the rolling hills. I kind of felt like we had gone back in time as we passed some of these old places.

As I ran up behind this guy, I was immediately humbled and motivated by his cause. At home in the States we have our own charities that raise money for injured service members, and I was reminded that we are not the only country who has suffered casualties while in service to our country. In this guy’s small way, Help For Heroes motivated me to dig a little deeper as we made our way up yet another hill. I maybe feeling a bit of pain after not training for this race, but so many other military members have things far tougher than me. Shut up, brain, and keep on running.

Okay, here I will admit that just after mile 7, I walked up this hill. I was pretty tired, and opted to exercise the “I promise that I have checked my ego at the door” mantra. For a girl who has never once walked during a race, let me tell you that this was no mean feat.

See all the yellow windbush? I really felt as though I was running through a postcard, and subsequently I didn’t pay much attention to the fact that my hamstrings were looking for my foam roller.

Honestly, I felt great through course- and if I wasn’t feeling in top fighting form, I would never have noticed since I was too busy taking in the scenery.

Do you know how a country can be inspiring? If you didn’t before, then by now you have a fair idea of what I am talking about.

Ahh another gradual incline up Holyrood Road…this took some mental persuasion…

Cowgate Road, on the other hand, had a bit more to look at in terms of curiosities…

We literally had spectators of all shapes and sizes on this route!

A quick glance at the castle as we passed through Grassmarket let me know that the Royal Mile was slowly moving closer under my feet.

I’m not doing a very good job of showing you all of the stages boasting live bands, but we did have plenty of entertainment out there. At this stage in the race we are exiting The Meadows and a drum corps is winding us up for the final stretch.Thank God because Mile 10 just felt like it lasted an eternity for me.

Man this downtown is much bigger than I gave it credit for….

Here I give you an obligatory self-portrait. The smile on my face is genuine- I may be running uphill on Mile 11, but I am completely ecstatic over how great I feel and how much fun this race really is.

Just before crossing over the Royal Mile, one of the race organizers is off to the side, telling runners that this is our last uphill before the end (although I kind of knew that she was lying on this account). As I passed her, she looked right at me with a serious face that seems to understand that I was running out of gas: “Keep going.” is all she said. I can’t tell you why or how, but this directive gave me the extra boost needed to get over the hump that would spill us down into the new side of the city.

Here we are on Queen Street and closing in on The Royal Mile. Just a gorgeous day, and I’m still not feeling any pain. Only having fun.

The was the start of the last stretch uphill- this time for real. I am completely serious when I tell you that as we made our way up into the old town that someone was playing “Amazing Grace” on the bagpipes. I found so much inspiration along this course. Especially the Scottish couple behind me who were openly griping about their screaming hamstrings. This made me feel better about my own fatigued constitution.

At long last- the turn onto the Royal Mile! I’ve been dreaming about this part of the course for almost two hours, and I just know that we’re running downhill. 

I had seen the tutu guys at the start of the race, and I was happy again to spot this guy as I closed in on Holyrood Park.

Kaloo kalay no more running today!  As I approach the glorious finish line, I can hear the announcers saying that I don’t need to be taking photos because they have hired people on the course to do that for us. “Yeah, but my way is free!” I yell back at them. Seriously, MarathonFoto– I love your service but I hate your prices.

Once over the finish line I score some glorious post-race vittles. I like to see how each country does theirs up. Here we’ve got crisps, Haribo, a muesli bar, and the obligatory banana. Oh and there’s now some shiny metal thing hanging from my neck, which adds a nice glinty touch.

Next comes the obligatory line standing in order to retrieve our gear bags. I scan the shining sea of foil for my pal Jen, who has surely come in ahead of me.

As I queue for my bag, I laugh at the letters designated for last names. Only in Scotland would there be an entire letter category dedicated to “McG”.

Soon I’m reunited with Jen and we give a celebration kick with our magical legwarmers. Mission Run Edinburgh accomplished! General Olmsted would be proud!

Even though I’m in the Navy, I have a special admiration for the hard-working Coasties. I ask this guy (I don’t even know his name!) if he will pose with me for a photo, and he happily obliges. What a cool race!

As we wait for the rest of the Olmsted ladies to join us, we stand and listen to some great finish line music. With free-flowing tunes, I could be convinced to do another one of these races on no notice…

I forgot that I filmed a bit of it! I may have been chilly after coming to a full and complete stop, but Kassidy was jamming with a beat that had me bouncing around in my foil cape.

As we finally exited the finish area, we made our way back up the Royal Mile in search of some hot chocolate. I was cold, but I don’t think my body temp was anything close to how these race walkers were feeling. I also applaud them for their….I dunno….you pick the adjective…

Next to a hot shower, nothing is better than a post-race meal. Here we have a vegetarian Scottish fry served up at Spoon. It came complete with more vegetarian haggis- something that I fancy recreating back here at home. If only I knew what was in it.

How rock ‘n’ roll is this? Our post-race brunch bill came plated on some refashioned vinyl. What a great cap to a totally unplanned yet truly excellent adventure.