theSmudge.com

One-word summary: Bummer.

Three-word summary: Started too fast.

One-sentence summary: My legs are in better shape than I’d realized, but the rest of me needs to catch up so I don’t crash and burn like I did Sunday.

Sunday morning, I woke up well before the sun and drove north-west for about 75 miles. I was supposed to run the Santa Rosa Half Marathon last year; I was running well and even doing some speed work. Then, three weeks before the race, I got a stress fracture in my leg. It was confirmed with a bone scan 10 days before the race. So, no race. No pricey marathons that were already paid for, either. Cue life melt-down.

This year, they let me in the race so I decided to exorcise some demons and once again try to run Santa Rosa. The past few weeks have been pretty “blah” in the running arena for me. I’ve actually had a long enough time of being injury-free that it got normal, so then little aches seemed bigger and being lazy seemed more appealing. I’ve slacked off on stretching and on cross-training, and I haven’t followed my own orders to lose weight. It’s no wonder that the running has been less than stellar, and I really didn’t know what what would happen Sunday, though of course I hoped for a PR (personal record), which would be anything under 1:49:59. To do that, I’d need a pace faster than 8:23, so about 8:20.

I had a bit of mix-up finding packet pickup, but I finally got my bib. By the time I took the (reusable!) bag of stuff back to my car and returned to the race, the port-a-potty lines were quite long. The gun went off before I got to the starting line, but I wasn’t worried because the race was chip-timed, so my clock wouldn’t start until I crossed the starting mat. I was right: I even took the time to recoil my earbud cord before starting, and I was still able to jump in with no problem. Dodging people was effortless.

Mile 1: 8:16.
Mile 2: 8:09. First “oops, I’m going too fast” realization.
Mile 3: 8:10. Didn’t learn.
Mile 4: 8:08. No comment.

My average pace in here was showing 8:12. I knew that was a bit fast, but my legs felt fantastic. I was occasionally looking at my heart rate (a new training thing for me), and I’ve noticed that if I think a bit more about my breathing, that helps keep the heart rate down a bit.

Mile 5: 8:17. (Ate a gel.)
Mile 6: 8:22.

Those two miles were on hardpack trail, which always makes my legs happier and wards off calf cramps. This actually slowed me down for once, but I think that was a good thing. I thought I hit the 10k point at 49:50, which would be a 2-second PR. Looking at it now, I see that wasn’t quite right. Still, I was going way too fast.

Mile 7: 8:37
Mile 8: 8:24

At this point I knew things were going bad. In March, I hit the halfway point and had the opposite realization — and proceded to run the second half faster than the first. Sunday, I knew I was about to lose it. That’s a bummer of a feeling, and I had that happen in May 2010 during a marathon.

Mile 9: 10:04.

Yep, that’s a 10 there. I couldn’t breathe and everything was getting fuzzy and blurry, so I actually stopped. I bent over to get the blood back to my head and to calm my breathing and heart rate. I was right near a volunteer, who asked if I was OK, and I assured him I was fine. This was a good place to stop, because other runners didn’t get distracted wondering if I was all right. I’d hate to be the one to slow them down.

Mile 10: 9:25. (Gel.)

I think this is the point where I began thinking, “I need a new sport. Like golf. Or curling. Or badminton.” Seriously, if we hadn’t been running in a huge park/trail area (which was gorgeous, by the way), I would have gone in search of a taxi.

Mile 11: 8:59.

These two miles were also on hardpack trail. Around this point a guy I’d seen earlier came along cheering for everyone he passed. He could see I was struggling and told me I was looking good and had a steady pace. I thanked him and he asked if I had a goal. “Well, it was sub-1:50, but my lungs decided otherwise,” I told him. I think he knew I was right, because he actually didn’t have anything to say. At that point I knew I would have to run sub-7:30 miles to reach 1:50. It was not going to happen.

Mile 12: 8:43.
Mile 13: 9:35. Walked through a water stop, kept walking.
Last 0.19 miles: 8:31 pace.

I finished in 1:54:44, for an average pace of 8:42 per mile. Of the seven half-marathons I’ve run, this was my fourth slowest. I know that also means it’s my fourth fastest, and that having a median half-marathon time of 1:54 is actually pretty good. But I also know that I ran the first half in 54 minutes and the second half in an hour, which for me is appallingly bad.

BUT I crossed the finish line and was promptely given the coolest medal I’ve ever seen. Not only is it big and shiny, but it spins! In fact, it is a DOUBLE SPINNER! The race organizers out-did themselves; the shirts are also really, really nice.

They had plenty of room in the finish area, so it wasn’t a big cluster. They also had bagels, bananas, oranges, water and sports drink right at the finish. (I actually only ate one bagel bite because I wasn’t hungry at all.) Volunteers were very nice, just as they had been throughout the race course — the ones at the aid stations were more organized than many, and they did everything right. Just outside the finishing area, vendors were giving away more recovery drinks — Zico chocolate coconut water made my life better again. Then I found Ryan Hall, the country’s fastest marathoner and half-marathoner.

Then I got a free $15 Macy’s gift card. Then I found free Cold Stone ice cream. By this point I was chilled, but I ate some anyway. The race also providing a free pancake breakfast, but I really wanted to change clothes and get warm more than I wanted to eat anything.

So, after somehow getting lost despite being in a small town and having GPS, I found a McDonalds to change in. (Another girl was changing there, too, but she was off to meet her husband for their first wedding anniversary. She was the cutest thing ever.) Then I went to explore the Charles Schulz museum and adjacent shop, which will have to be another blog post. Then I got stuck in miles of slow traffic, which is always fun with a clutch post-race.

A friend texted and asked how my race went, then extended condolences when I said not well. She asked how my body felt and I said it was fine, and she said that was good to hear that I hadn’t been injured. Suddenly I realized she was right. I am very injury-prone, and I started that race much faster than I should have, given my training. But this morning, one day later, I walked down my stairs without problems and am wearing three-inch heels. And I finished a race I never thought possible five years ago.

(Edited to add official race times.) It turns out that I came in 6th in my age group, out of 43, which puts me in the top 14%. I was a mere 14 seconds off 5th place, which is annoying. And I was 125th overall, out of 473, in the top 26%. My placement in my age group is actually surprising, though, because the top three women were in my notoriously hard age group.

Running is often my outlet, and I go on what I call “sanity runs.” Until I took up running, I never understood the concept of being able to clear my mind. I love racing and trying to beat my own times, and it’s good to have goals to keep me motivated. Lately I’ve been dreading the day when I’ll realize I peaked and won’t get any faster. Maybe I’ve had that dread because I’m subconsciously reminding myself that racing is fun and fine, but it isn’t everything.

This time last year, I was injured and I wouldn’t be back to running for four months. One year later, life is much better. And I am running.