Tuesday, April 7, 2009

The Race for the Roses Half Marathon-2009

This year's marathon brought about a record number of participants at about 4000 runners. Impressive. I with my sweet mum in tow, arrive about 6:45AM to the scene. The race started at 7AM. Although I was suffering from a small cramp in my right calf, and I was a bit stiff still from waking earlier that morning, I figured the run would limber me up. I wasn't feeling the normal excitement I had experience on my other runs. More fear and panic. But my mom was there, so I did my best to put on a good face. I now see from the photos of that day I failed terribly at that.
Typically at mile 2 or 3 I begin to loosen up. Not so this time. This was perhaps the most demanding run ever. The first and most significant hill forced me to walk and curse the very notion of running for sport. "Why would anyone in their right mind pay good money to partake in a run, on city streets, at 7am, for 13.1 miles?!" I continued and then something wonderful happened. I started to run down hill. This was awesome! I could run faster! I felt no pain! I should have questioned this logic. But no, I continued on my new wild pace until mile 8. That is when disaster hit. My Nike+ failed. Utterly and completely failed. The announcer told me "Congratulations, for completing my 8.4 mile run." I stopped. For the first time in the entire race I stopped moving. This is when all madness began. I began walking and fidgeting with my IPod to fix the Nike+ (how to fix something that only plugs in is beyond me!), and I realized that although I only stopped for a moment my legs began to stiffen up. Running faster than my base pace down the hill was resulting stiffened legs and greater exhaustion. I started to jog lightly while cursing the damn Nike+. I got it to restart but after .3 of a mile again I heard the announcer congratulate me on my "spectacular" run. I checked the sensor in my shoe, I checked the sensor in my IPod, I reset the IPod; nothing worked. Oh, inventor of the Nike+, how you could create something that I could so dearly love and make it betray me in my greatest time of need! I continued with my run, but my pace had slowed considerably. Now I was just listening to music, which somehow was less inspiring knowing that my miles were no longer being logged. I passed mile ten. My hips had the most amazing sensation. As if the ligaments had become as stiff and brittle as overdone jerky. A speed walker and some tumbleweed passed me by. My knees were throbbing and my feet had filed a formal protest. I had consoled myself that at least there were no more hills. Until I reached the bridge. That damn bridge had the steepest incline yet. I tried to jog, up the bridge; being the last mile and all, but the body had refused to follow the mind's instruction. The only thing keeping the body moving was the knowledge that no more movement would be required after the finish line. I finished the race at 2 hours and 24 minutes. I was so relieved that I practically cried. I am overwhelmed that I was able to do it and although I am still surviving the aftereffects of the race, I can’t believe I did. I now know what I need to do and what to expect for my next 1/2 marathon and hopefully have a bit more insight for my future marathon. I will also try to follow my own suggestions about knowing the course & pacing myself.