Crossing the Finish Line

Another 16 weeks of training, and another half marathon under my belt.  I was hoping the third time would be the charm, but I really struggled this race.  I blame adrenaline.  I felt great the week going into the race, and I got up Saturday morning feeling ready – tired, but ready.  I got out of bed around 5:10 am, made my breakfast, and got ready.  We left the house before the sun was up.  It was a little chilly and sort of windy, but it would be about 55 degrees by the time the race started.  Nearly perfect weather.

We parked at the garage I park in for work, and went into my building to take advantage of a no-line bathroom, but of course I had to go again before the race started.  We took our time walking over to the corrals, and then went into one of the hotels lining the street.  No sense in standing outside for 45 minutes.  About 7:10 I decided it was time to get in the corral.  I was feeling pretty nervous, although I don’t know why.  It’s just running.  It’s not like I’m going to win or anything.

 After standing in the corral for about 15 minutes, the beach balls came out.  I don’t understand this phenomenon.  First, I am getting ready to run 13.1 miles.  Why do I want to spend precious energy batting around beach balls?  Second, are all of those balls really going to make it off the course path before the race starts?  Third, who brings things beach balls?  Organizers of the event?  Other participants?  Why do people think this is a good idea?!

It was finally time to go.  I was in corral F, so I had a bit to walk before actually crossing the start line.  Everyone around me began running, but again, why run any more than 13.1 than necessary.  I did not run until I got to the start line.  Despite having been seeded, there were what seemed like thousands of slower runners ahead of me.  My first mile was 9:11, more than a minute slower than the pace I was aiming for.

I tried to pick up the pace, but not too much.  I still only passed people when I could do so without dodging or weaving.  By mile 2, I seemed to be back on pace (or so I thought).  Around mile 5 I finally felt like I was getting my stride.  I’d made a couple of water stops, and on the advice of my new friend/running buddy/nutritionist, I decided I would stop for a few sips of Gatorade at the next stop.  Despite feeling like I had hit my stride, I was also feeling a bit tired.  I was a little concerned because I wasn’t halfway through yet, and was feeling much worse than I ever had during the previous two races.

Around mile 8, I was pretty sure that I wasn’t going to make the time I wanted.  If I kept up my pace, I would, but I was certain at that point that I wasn’t going to be able to keep it up for another five miles.  At mile 10, I decided I was NEVER going to run a half marathon again, a marathon was completely out of the question, who cares about running the Boston Marathon, and I might never ever run again.  I felt like I had no energy.  What was going on?  I had eaten what I was supposed to eat.  I had loaded up on good carbs the last three days and ate the same breakfast I always do.  What happened?  Was I even going to be able to finish?

I stopped at the next to water stops and walked a little bit farther than I normally would, just to try to get a little rest and be able to make it to the end.  I stopped for some more Gatorade.  That helped for like a half mile.  Finally, I got to the point where I had to walk a bit, even though there was no water stop.  I hate to admit that, but it’s what I had to do in order to finish.  At mile 11, I was really struggling, but thinking “Only 2.1 more miles…you’ve made it this far…only 2.1 more.”  At about a mile and a half left, I saw one of my coaches, who cheered me on and encouraged me to finish strong.  That was what I needed.

I made it to 12, and knew I could make it to the end even if it was slowly.  I turned a corner and could see the finish line in the distance.  I got closer.  Three quarters of a mile.  I could do it.  Half a mile.  Almost there.  I wasn’t moving very quickly.  A quarter mile.  Still so far to go.  I kept putting one foot in front of the other, and decided to give it one last push as I crossed the finish line.

 At first I was pretty disappointed in my time.  I still couldn’t understand what had happened.  Then I met up with my husband, and he told me my split for the first 7 miles or slow.  I was running at a 7:36 pace.  Guess what?  I don’t run that fast.  I’ve never run that fast.  I was going for an 8:05-8:10 pace.  Whoops.  So that explained what happened.  I still ran a faster time than when I ran the race a year before, so I decided to focus on that.  I’m also using the fact that I can’t pace myself as an excuse to get a Garmin to track my distance and pace.

 And, after it was all said and done, I still got my medal.  Oh, and after a few hours at home, I decided swearing off running was a bit premature.  I’m not certain that I’m ready to attempt a marathon in the fall, but I’ll do another half (at least one more…).

Starting the Ten-Day Taper

The half-marathon is a week from Saturday, and I am ready for it to get here – both in the sense that I am mentally and physically ready and that I am ready for it to be here and over with.  I am a bit worn out on training.  I am also feeling slow and sluggish, as I my entire lower body were comprised of lead.  I know this is how I am supposed to feel at this point, but it is frustrating.  It makes me a little nervous for the race, but I know with the taper starting and carbo load next week I will feel great Saturday morning.

The 16-week training session seemed to pass more slowly this year as compared to last year.  I think it is because I had no idea what I was getting into last time, and I was so concerned about being able to run 13.1 miles without vomiting.  This time the mileage doesn’t scare me.  I know I can finish.  The issue is my time.  I certainly don’t want to run slower than I did during the last race in November.

Even though there are shorter runs next week, I still have to run six of the next seven days, with an eight mile run.  I’m ready for that to be over.  However, I am really looking forward to the carbo load that starts next Wednesday.  I love pasta, grains, potatoes, and I look forward to this part of every race training.  In fact, this is one of the things that keeps me motivated to sign up for races!  I can’t justify eating that many carbs otherwise.  I don’t enjoy the four days of low carb, high protein before that, but the pasta makes up for it.

It has been raining for the past six days, and it looks like it could still be around next Saturday.  That would be miserable.  I’ve done strong winds and below freezing temperatures, but I’m not sure how I would handle rain the entire race.  I had good practice this evening, though, with rain coming down hard enough that you couldn’t see very far in front of you and soaking all of my layers of clothes to my skin.

I am happy to say that this time around I have no aches or pains.  If I remain injury free for the next ten days (and hopefully I will), this will be the first time I have raced without pain.  I wonder what that will be like!  I need to remember to keep drinking lots of water.  Only ten more days…