It’s been a month since I ran my first half-marathon, but I am finally writing the race recap. Hopefully my brain remembers all the sensations I felt during those 2+ hours.
Race Arrival
I’m really bad with arriving to races on time. I just don’t like standing around pretending to stretch and watch people doing strides. I just don’t do prep. When I go running, I walk outside my house and just go, so I follow the same motto at races. I showed up about 8 a.m. (start time was 8, but I knew I wasn’t going to cross the start line for about 30 minutes). Lots of standing around. I thought I would meet my new running BFF, but I didn’t speak to anyone until about mile 8.
Miles 1-7
So stupidly, when I was doing all my standing around to cross the start line, I had to pee, but I was hesitant to get out of my corral because what if they left without me? So I waited until mile 2 when I saw porta potties without much of a line. I knew I was losing minutes off my time, but it’s not like I was about to win any medals here.
I can’t even believe I am typing these words, but miles 1-7 flew by and miles don’t ever fly by for me. I remember and feel each one. But I was running along and just enjoying it. I also saw my husband twice and he had made a sign (aww!).
Still smiling at mile 5
Miles 8-11
Around mile 8, my left knee started to hurt. And then the right one followed. I was forced to take walk breaks and stretch breaks to try to get a little relief. The course also started to suck at this point because we’re winding along a river trail and since there is basically no parking, there are really no spectators to cheer you on until you get much closer to the finish line.
This is the moment when someone finally spoke to me. A woman turned my way and told me she wanted to die. Not feeling particularly inspired by her energy, I took out a GU and trudged ahead.
By around mile 10, I was just annoyed at my knees. But suddenly all the clouds in my brain cleared and I realized as the 11 mile marker was in sight that I only had 2 miles left. The end was near.
Miles 11-12
These really just sucked. I knew I was near the end, but the pain was rough. I also saw an ambulance coming to pick up another runner, which is always scary.
Less smiling is involved at this point.
Mile 13
I was never so pleased to see a finish line in my life. I hobbled my way across, took my medal, and sat down to enjoy Bret Michaels. (sidebar—does he have hair or is that a bandana attached to a wig?)
Final time: 2:46. Not what I wanted. I was hoping for 2:30. But I learned a few things. One, don’t trust your Garmin. Mine had me finishing miles before they were marked. However, this could be because I don’t run very consistently and veer all over the course, so maybe I added distance on myself.
Two, don’t doubt yourself. The week before the race I felt unprepared and wanted to drop out. I dragged myself there and ran 13 miles for the first time.
