After Toronto Half

I enter through the backyard and pull the door closed behind. It's quiet in the kitchen/dinning area. Maggie is crouched over her book in the living room at the opposite side of the house. I can neither see, nor hear her from where I stand, but I know she's there. My breathing is the only sound in the house.
Quietly, as if not to break the eerie silence, I take off my hat and shoes, peel the iPod off my arm and tiptoe toward the stairs. It all seem so anti-climatic. Last week I was bursting with energy, analysing every run and calculating the pace I should hold at the race. I was pacing around the kitchen, mixing energy drinks and chattering excitedly with Maggie. Now, the race is over and the weather turned colder as if Mother Nature only waited for the race to finish before she turned off the heat and switched on the Fall.
The race was fun - a half-marathon along the lake on a slightly humid day. I felt great despite the sleepless night before and ran my personal best, winning the media challenge along the way. I suppose I'm officially the fastest running member of the media in Toronto. That may come in handy if anybody ever gives me a chase.
The route was flat, which was good, and boring, which wasn't. Luckily, there were some weird runners to break the monotony of the course. Somewhere half the way through the run, I came upon an older man with very short and fast stride. I remember thinking how he can't possibly keep the high pace with such a running style. As I was passing, he sped up and stayed just a step ahead. I tried to pull next to him, but each time he added a bit more speed to his funny gait. He looked like that funny roadrunner bird. After a while both of us were going way too fast, wasting energy, so I slowed down a notch. He must have felt me falling back, because he did too, as on a cue. I was getting annoyed when we came upon the turn where at the 12th kilometer the course makes a u-turn and goes back to the downtown. The old timer took slightly wider turn and I sneaked passed him on the inner side, triumphant. However, he just stopped then, slowed to walk and fell way back. It seemed that he lost the competitiveness, or maybe he just wanted to stay ahead until the turn. Either way I foolishly wasted some precious energy chasing him around.
As usual, the last 4 kms were a struggle, but I managed to keep the pace and even add some sort of acceleration in the last 500 meters. People cheering on were great help in those last moments of the race. I finished 84th overall, out of 8000 runners.

In the shower, I re-live those moments again. I can't help but feel deflated, without a goal to run toward the whole long winter. Still, I enjoy those solitary runs, now without the push. I just let my legs carry me, while an audio book play in my ears. Then, in April, I will realize every runner's dream when I lace up at the famous Boston marathon.