Through out the first half of marathon training I was preparing for Race for the Cure and Soaring Wings. The prep I was doing for Soaring Wings was mostly just for completion, but hopefully completion without too much struggle. I didn't want to set any goals too early on because I knew the weather would play a pretty big part in how I did at the race. Two weeks out I started obsessively checking the weather. Consistently the forecast showed sun, but the temperature varied. I soon began to realize that there was a good chance it was going to be a warm morning for a race. A day or two before I finally set some goals.
#1- To finish. And be proud of the accomplishment. That's all.
#2- Finish with a sub 10 min/mile pace.
#3- Possibly finish with a pace in the 9:40's.
#4- Get a PR by finishing in less than 2:05. I did not expect to reach this goal, but I had it in the back of my head.
I was ridiculously nervous on race morning. I don't even know why. I kept telling myself to chill out; this was just another run. I guess maybe I just wanted to do well so badly that I was letting it get to me.
We got to the McGee Center with a good amount of time to spare, but not so much extra time that we were waiting around a lot. By the time we walked from the car, made a bathroom stop, and checked our bag, there was just enough time to get to the starting line and find our corral. At Soaring Wings you are not assigned a corral. You decide for yourself where you want to be. I decided if there was any chance of me possibly reaching that PR goal, I should put myself between the pacers that would get me there. I still wasn't counting on it, but I knew I could at least try. So Scott and I found the 2:00 pacer and stood further back from him, but in front of the 2:05 pacer. I expected the announcement for the countdown to happen any minute, but there was a delay for some reason. After the Star Spangled Banner was sung, and a prayer was said, we ended up starting almost 15 minutes late. It wasn't a big deal for us, other than being anxious to get started.
When we finally started, everything went as expected. We kept a steady pace and kept an eye on the 2:00 pacer. He was inching further and further ahead, but that was ok. I absolutely knew I couldn't keep up with him this time. It was at mile three that we saw my parents and our kids for the first time. I love this part! There are 2-3 places I know they will show up, and if time allows they will pop up in a couple others as well. It's always a great motivation when I see them all. This time, we could hear my dad shouting before we could see all of them. It was quite funny.
I was still feeling pretty good heading into the 4th mile, however the first of the very large hills was about to show up. I pushed on and made the turn that I call the teaser. It's the same stretch of road that we take at the end of the race, that actually passes the finish line. It's kind of not fair. lol My family showed up again just past mile 5.
About that time that I felt the slow down happening. The sun had started to rise above the trees and I could feel it was already getting warmer. When the temperature at the start of a race is already over 60, I just know I need to plan on being more chill about how I run the race. A little bit before the 6th mile marker I heard a group of runners coming up behind me and without even looking I knew it was the 2:05 pacer. As she got next to me, without even thinking I said, "Oh no. You're not allowed to pass me!" The girls in front of her laughed and I realized what I had said. The pacer gave me a gentle swat on the rear with the stick of her pacing sign and told me I'd better get going then. I laughed and she gave me some encouraging advice. Things I already knew, but still nice to hear. Then she told me I sounded like I was doing well, not like I was struggling really. I told her I was getting there and it's the back half of the race that gets me. She said, "The back half gets every body." It was nice to know that even someone who I would consider a professional has a hard time with this course. Sometimes I wonder if it's all in my head. I know it's not. I don't think there's anyone that would say the course is easy. There's always self doubt though. So I thanked the pacer and she was on her way. I kept trying to keep up with her, but it wasn't happening. We crossed the 10k split mat and had a good downhill for a minute. I was thinking too much and got frustrated. Even though I had been telling myself I wasn't going to PR, I still got mad that I wasn't able to stay in front of the 2:05 pacer. I had wanted it to happen more than I was willing to admit I guess. Rather than being proud that I made it almost half way through the race at a PR pace, I was just really put out and discouraged. I let it slow me down even more.
I ran with self pity for a couple more miles, which didn't help the tough, hilly parts of the course. We saw my family a couple more times at around 7 1/2 and somewhere past 9.
My family showed up one last time at mile 11. My dad and daughter ran on the sidewalk for a minute as we passed them and my son and mom were on the corner shouting and clapping. Mile 12 hill or not, those faces made me want to push. About halfway up the hill I told Scott I wanted to have a short walk, but then I saw the photographer and refused to be in another Mile 12 picture while walking. By the time we passed him we were almost to the top. I had a short walk and then got going again. The last mile and a half had more walking than I'd normally do in the final mile of any run, but I didn't care. I also soon realized there was another reason for it.
Starting near the top of the hill, close to the mile 12 marker, I noticed a woman who had passed us while we were walking. She was running, but her breathing was harsh. The kind of breathing I know well from when I struggle. The kind that says, "I'm so done right now." I smiled at her in a hopefully encouraging way as we ran past her. We did a little leap frog with her. We would stop to walk and she would run past us. That happened a couple times. She never walked. But our running pace was just a little faster than hers. The last time we passed her I told Scott I wondered if she needed someone to finish the race with. We had about 3/4 mile left and I wanted one more short walk. I was hoping for a really good kick at the finisher's chute. While we were walking the lady caught up to us again and I just really felt like we should stay with her. So we started running again. Her pace was definitely slower than what we had been doing, but I didn't mind. I knew we were making an assumption that she would even want someone around her. I still don't know how she felt about it. About half a mile to the finish line she took an earbud out when I was telling her we were close and she smiled. I told her we were going to run it in with her and she seemed grateful. At about 1/4 left she took out both earbuds and asked how much further. I pointed out what was left and we kept going. All the while I'm trying to be encouraging to her. About a block from our last turn I shouted at her that it was our last turn and that was the finish line chute. "Thank God!" she said. I couldn't agree more. It was hot. The hills, as always, were hard. But there was the finish line and all these people were lining the chute cheering everyone along even though they didn't know the runners. It's pretty awesome.
We made the final turn and I'm talking to this lady as if I know her. Telling her she's almost done, that we are so close. And her kick comes in. It surprised me. What is it about a finish line that makes even the biggest struggles seem non existent? The three of us crossed the finish line almost at the same time. I gave the lady a pat on the shoulder and told her good job as she got her medal and then she was gone. I didn't see her again. Part of me wonders if I shouldn't have assumed she would want someone to run in the last bit with her. Part of me thinks it's better to make that assumption than to let someone who seems to be struggling go at it alone. Who knows?
As we were finishing, I heard, but did not see my parents and the kids. After I got my medal I looked over and saw them all waiting for us. I was anxious to get to them, but first I needed oranges. I love oranges. I would like to fill my bag with oranges after a race. :-D
Scott and I made our way out of the finisher's area and were met with hugs and high fives. I could say it a million times and it still wouldn't be enough, but we have the best support team. Really and truly. They make me so happy. They keep me going more than they realize. Every shout. Every wave. Every bang on a pot (their choice of noisemakers this year lol). Every bit of it encourages me to just put one foot in front of the other. It doesn't matter the pace. It doesn't matter my finishing time. They are proud of me. And I should be proud of myself.
Our official chip time was 2:14:16, average pace 10:14, compared to RunKeeper which has our distance at 13.30 (Scott and I have a theory about the extra distance, but it's not important at this point.) and a time that is the same, but the average pace is 10:06. Of the four goals, I met the first one. :) I'm not even bothered that I didn't meet the others. I finished. That's what matters.
Marathon training or not, running a half marathon is not an easy thing to do. So I will put the middle couple miles out of my head and I will remind myself of how great the first half was, and how I was hopefully that much of an encourager to someone else in the end.
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