Distance: 13.1 miles
Pace: Started off pretty well, then slowed down to a crawl.
A painful crawl.
Glasses of wine: 2 the night before (for medicinal purposes); 3 delicious post-race mimosas
How I feel the day after: Like I need a day off—preferably spent sedated
and seated in ice bath
5:55 a.m. Flash arrives at my house ready to rumble. It is
still dark outside. She has packed a bag with a change of clothes, Gatorade,
and flip flops, and is perfectly coordinated in pink. Our other friend, Pixie,
arrives around 6:05 to pick us up and drive us downtown to the race. Pixie is
perfectly coordinated in blue. I need to rethink my race outfits.
6:15 a.m. We arrive and the hunt is on for portapots! We are
so early that the truck is still unloading them, so Flash encourages Pixie to get
in there while they are fresh. I decide to go, too, and manage to OPEN THE DOOR
ON SOMEBODY. I scream. The surprised occupant makes a mad dash to grab the door
again. The crowd laughs. When I later found an unoccupied stall, I found the
door lock remarkably easy to use. How on earth did that person eff it up?
6:45 a.m. Pixie has to pee again. She is nervous. Flash and
Pixie have not done a half marathon before, although Flash is experienced at shorter races.
6:55 a.m. There are no corrals to this race, so we all sort
of mill around and try to pick an appropriate distance from the start line. Our
race plan is that Flash and Pixie will stay with me for three miles and then
can go as fast as they want. The idea is not to go out too fast. I say we are
going to do 11s, 11:30s to start.
7:00 a.m. We are off!
7:01 a.m. I think I’m running too fast. I’m the pacer.
Shoot.
7:30 a.m. Am going too fast. But man, I feel good. I sing
Waterloo to the crowd, “MY MY! AT WATERLOO, NAPOLEAN DID SURRENDER…” Flash and Pixie
pay no attention to me, but I'm pretty sure the crowd loves my singing. I chat with a speedwalker. I
whoop when we pass mile markers. I'm the Fun Pacer.
7:33 a.m. or so. We pass the mile 3 marker and Flash sort of
gracefully (I don’t know how she does this—she looks like she is barely moving)
dusts me and wanders off to go run faster. Pixie follows her. I don’t speed up,
because I feel like I’m already pushing my pace. But then I can see
them ahead of me, and I keep pushing. So my first six miles look like this:
(Not too shabby for me, right? Look at those 10:20s. I never
run 10:20s. And here I was at miles 4-6 doing 10:20s.)
8:02 a.m. I am flying along. Push back with feet. Keep it up. I'm not the Fun Pacer anymore. I'm fast! I'm too fast to sing Abba! I'm keeping up with Pixie and Flash, sort of. My time is going to be AMAZING.
8:03 a.m.-ish. Man, is this course all uphill?
8:05 a.m. My knee hurts.
8:07 a.m. Now my other knee hurts.
8:15 a.m. Think I’ll have a delicious GU to give me some
energy. Who put this slow song on my running mix? I don’t want to listen to "Linger" by the Cranberries this second. I need “Work, Bitch.” I need “Boom Boom
Pow.” I don’t need soft Irish melodies.
8:17 a.m. That GU made me nauseous. Not feeling so great.
Knees hurt. I’m getting slower. Pace has dropped into the 11s.
8:25 a.m. Hey, there’s Flash’s fiancé on the side of the
road! He gives me a high five and tells me to keep it up. This gives me a total
boost. I will now always come watch people race, because I felt so much better
after that. I think he is responsible for the 11:23 speed increase in Mile 10.
(Okay, slowing down a bit. I suspect this is where I should have been for miles 4-7...)
8:48 a.m. I hit the wall.
I’m nauseated. My knees hurt. My thighs hurt. I have a
blister forming on my foot. I hate running. I’m not running at all; I’m doing
the zombie lurch. People start to recognize that I’m in visible agony and
become my personal cheerleaders. The security guard for the light rail tells me
to stay in the shade. Older men with their dogs let me know it’s just a few more miles.
Scott Jurek appears and tells me I should eat less animal protein. I am not so
good.
Some lady starts cheering me. She says, “I’m looking at YOU,
girl! Yay! Good job! Keep it up!” Through my bleary focus, I eventually realize
she is Flash’s sister. Yay! Flash’s family is basically keeping me alive at this
point.
9:00 a.m. I have got to make it to the finish in 20 minutes
to beat old time!
9:01 a.m. Eff my old time.
The last three are ridiculous. It was so hard. I admit I had
to walk a little bit, which was a mistake because walking felt SO GOOD. I just
ran out of steam.
(OMG look at that last mile. Seriously, Slo-Jo.)
9:28 a.m. I manage to lug my aching body across the finish
line. 2:28 was my time. Not that impressive overall, but it was a training run
for the full.
I’m pretty sure that those early 10:20 miles were just too
fast for me, and so I burned up all of my energy. This is a REALLY IMPORTANT
LESSON that I need to learn for the full, or I will never make it. “The first
half of the race sets up the second,” Coach reminded me later, and I have to
keep that in mind. So I’m really glad I did this race and got that reminder.
How did Flash and Pixie do? Pixie killed it at 2:17. She did
really well! Flash unfortunately threw up right before the finish line, and
that added a few minutes to her time…she came in at 2:19. Those two first-timers did a great job. We hung out at the
finish a while, then went and had well deserved mimosas. It was really a
perfect day.
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