Good race (Webster's definition): Finished. Can walk the next day. Came close to meeting goal time.
My goal going into the event was to finish in less than 2:30. My earlier half marathon in July was a 2:49, but we had walked a lot at the beginning and I felt like I could shave off a lot of time. Maybe I was overestimating how much time I could shave off, since I remember running by the time I passed the Mile 1 marker. But I'm in a lot better shape than I was in July. My projected time for this race was a crap shoot, in other words. (There's that underlying theme again.)
But I am running a heck of a lot less than I was in July. Oops, I haven't really been running at all.
But I cycle all the time now. I told everyone that this very closely correlates to biking. Well, maybe it does, maybe it doesn't, haha. Certainly my cardio is good, and my legs are sure in great shape.
The lead up to this event took forever! Oh my, it seems like I've been talking about it and thinking about it for months and months and months. I was glad the day had finally arrived. I was less glad that the day arrived super rainy and bleak. Yuck. Thankfully, Jen picked me up and provided expert luxury door to door service for the whole event. This cut down on my whininess factor quite a lot. :)
I was...hmm...not nervous about the event. A little unplugged, since I hadn't been running in preparation. Lance Armstrong and one of the massage therapists at my clinic assured me that cycling = close correlation to running. My final verdict on this subject? Yes. It closely correlates. Not perfectly, but pretty closely. Certainly if I were running regularly I would have done better and enjoyed myself more. But I got out there and got the job done and I felt strong enough to do it.
My final time was 2:32:56. Very close to my goal time of less than 2:30! I totally would have gotten it, too, if I hadn't...
Had to stop and poop in the bushes. Twice. Laugh!! Oh my, that sucked. I got to about mile nine, and my digestive system went into total meltdown. I was afraid of this happening. See, since my weight loss surgery, I just tend to be on the plugged side. Why is this? I was nervous about it a couple days before, but not insightful enough to consider taking a laxative. Sure, the night before the race I thought about it, but IT'S TOO LATE THEN, isn't it?
Sigh. So I was running along with my new friend Kevin, who was paced about where I wanted to be. And he was chatting away until I finally said, "Ack. I have to stop. Now."
And into the bushes I went. Thankfully, there were lots and lots of bushes along the way! I felt very sorry for myself, but I decided to do it because my choices either seemed to be "shit in the woods" or "walk the rest of the way until you find a bathroom."
I have to say that this was the inaugural year of the race. There weren't enough potties. Now, if I hadn't been desperate for a potty, I wouldn't have noticed how conspicuously absent they were at the beginning and along the route. But next year? Add more potties.
Well, after that first movement, I felt much better, but sadly, I had to stop again about a mile down the road. Sigh. That'll teach me a thing or two! It really goofed with my time, too. :( This, after an early potty stop in which I realized I didn't actually *have* to pee! I have mom-bladder, I think. It's time for me to accept that when I run (or jump rope, or jump in a bouncy house) I feel like I have to pee. Darn babies and their bladder-wrecking ways!
Okay, so after a couple poop-stops, I was able to chug through to the end of the race. I got really surly at about mile 10, when I no longer wanted to play runner. I wanted to get in the car and go home! It was made worse by the fact that at about mile 10, I actually had to run right past Jen's car. And I was carrying the car key. And I wanted to stop. I was never really going to stop, but I really, really wanted to stop, haha. Besides, I had just told the Huffington Post the day before that I was doing a half marathon, not that I was *quitting* a half marathon!
The last bit was an out and back along a paved trail. I was so tired, but the trail was pretty. Out and backs at the very end of a race really suck, though. Or, maybe they don't? I liked seeing the runners coming back toward me - it made me feel like the end was in sight. And on my way back, I like passing the runners heading out...that made me feel like I was almost done. Oh, I don't know. I guess I'm largely indifferent to the out and backs.
I was never so happy to see a finish line as I was that day. Damn, it was rainy and cold. They had hot soup and bread, and chips and salsa; I picked at it but it was really raining so hard I just wanted to get back out to the car. Jen had left me her key, so I walked out there and changed into my warm, dry clothes and turned on the engine (oh jeez, after running to a porta-potty to poop again, sigh) and cranked the heated seats. It was bliss! I told Jen she has the very best mobile spa around: she had brought me her roller stick to use on my legs afterward, and I was so happy I bought myself one that afternoon, too.
|Half marathon veteran. :)|