Yeeessss!!!
Run Goal #1 for 2019- Run my first sub-2 hour half marathon - ✔!
A quick recap of the fun, for my benefit more than yours:
Friday 9pm - Sat 4:15am: Heavily drug myself with a melatonin and 2 benadryl, but still wake up pretty much every 30-60 min, all night long. Toss and turn for 15-20 min. each time. Total sleep? 4 hours or so...not ideal. But probably average for me the night before a race as I haven't quite figured out a way to conquer the nerves and anxiety. I also think my stress level is higher than usual since it's the first time I've ever set a time goal in a distance run, usually my goals are to just 'cruise and have fun' and 'try not to embarrass yourself.' So this is a new, previously unbeknownst pressure for me. It also doesn't help that a street away, there is the largest rager I've ever heard in five years, so on one of my many bathroom trips, I have to close all the windows and put ear plugs on.
Sat 4:15am-4:45am: Quickly get dressed for the first time using winter running gear in Hawaii, which includes arm sleeves, compression socks, a hat and gloves. The race starts at at 2,600 elevation, so I know it will be rather chilly on the mountain. I also lather on sunscreen, stuff a piece of toast and banana down my throat (nothing tastes good in the four o'clock hour, btw), and hurry to the car for our nearly 55-min. drive to the starting line (I got a special exception to not have to board the busses at 4-4:30am due to my motion sickness in busses. However, they cruelly denied my petition for the company of emotional support pot bellied pig, Horace).
Sat 5:30am: Just 1-2 miles from the starting line is an overturned car, with police and fire on the scene. It's kind of a frightening, sobering sight, and it fills me with a sense of dread. I try to push the negative thoughts about bad omens out of my head. But I can't help but feel like with my poor sleep and now this horrible accident, that things don't feel very good.
Thankfully, once Rich drops me off in the pitch black darkness, I immediately stop brooding once I hear my name shouted out by sweet, sweet Yuko. She's with her husband and two friends, and I get to shiver and chat with them for about an hour, the perfect distraction! We are huddled amongst a sea of other runners, all wearing their silver, metallic blankets. I feel like I'm the only person who isn't wrapped up like a Chipotle burrito or wearing a thick sweater. (It's 53 degrees, but I didn't want to deal with a drop bag as I tend to fly home from a race once it's done, and don't want to have wait for the drop bags arrival at the finish line). But what most of these other svelte runners lack, that I have in spades, is a very generous amount of body fat. So although I'm cold, I'm far from freezing. ;-)
Sat 6:15am: Although I have to pee, the porta potty lines now all look at least 15 min long, so I figure I'll need to suck it up (literally, ha!) since I was chatting and waited too long to get in line. Instead, I make my way down to the large flags where you're supposed to gather and find your pacer. I find the flag marked 2:00, and waited with about 5-6 others for our pacer to show up. I was heavily relying on a pacer for this race, as again, it was my first time with a goal pace, and I wanted to relieve myself of the stress of constantly monitoring my pace. I also don't own a Garmin (I'm one of three runners left on Earth without one, the other two are Amish). So this was a critical part of the plan. Unfortunately, with a minute to go, we realize that there are ZERO pacers other than the 2:10 group. I am stressed, but try to focus on the positive- although the responsibility is now solely mine, I won't have the pressure of having to keep up with a pacer/group...so less likelihood of panic/dejection if they were to drop me on mile one. It's also a fabulous excuse if I don't meet my goal (because yes, I'm already looking for excuses for failure...it's a built in perk of having anxiety). :-D
Sat 6:30am: We start right on time, but for the first couple hundred yards, I'm sort of recovering from the shock of realizing I no longer have a pacer, therefore I no longer have a plan. I waffle with the idea of pulling out my cell phone to turn on Map My Run. On the one hand, it'll help me track my mileage time...but on the other hand, I'm worried it'll depress/demotivate me if I don't hit the mileage goal. I'm seriously torn, as again, I've never run a race needing to hit certain times, but I finally decide to turn it on about 1/3 mile into the race so I'm not running totally blind.
Mile #1: Map My Run announces that I've run my first mile at 9:38. I gulp and start to panic a little, as I'm only on mile one, and already need to make up 30 seconds. But I also know it's the first mile, it's still kind of crowded (plenty of dodging and weaving), and I can't exactly feel my toes so I'm running a little like a hobbit. So I'm not quite warmed up, and shouldn't throw the towel in just yet.
Mile #2: Sure enough, I clock a 8:38 for mile two without feeling much exertion, and I breathe a sigh of relief that I've already made up most of the lost time from mile #1.
Miles #3-8: These miles were nearly identical to the trial run I did on the race course 3-4 weeks ago...fairly uneventful in that I felt strong. I was clocking on average, between 8:48-9:02/min miles. I took a few breaks here and there to take a gel, and when those happened, I'd clock a 9:10 or so. Every time I clocked something below 9:00, I breathed a sigh of relief, as I knew I needed to bank some slush time for the final miles (when I fully expected to slow down a bit). So although I could have pushed myself to go a little faster at this point, my goal was to stay as close to 9 min miles as possible...and save my energy for the final 3 miles when the course flattened out a bit. The wind was steady, but not too strong. I caught mostly a side wind, but there was occasional head and tail...nothing that cost me more than a few seconds per mile, however.
Miles #9-10: These were the miles where the exhaustion started to set in, and I started to get irritable/tired as the miles seemed to stretch a bit longer. At one point I felt like I was barely trudging up a hill, with my legs feeling like they could start to cramp...so I started to grab a few cups of Powerade hoping the sodium would stave off cramping.
Miles #11-13: For whatever reason, I caught a second wind and miles 11-13 were not as tiring as the previous few miles. I think I was just nearing the finish, which lifted my spirits a bit, and I also felt reasonably confident at that point that I would probably come in at under 2 miles. I knew I had two more 9 min miles left in the tank, so I think once I passed mile 12, I started to pick it up a bit. I was tempted to pull out my phone and check the time to see if I needed an all out sprint to the finish, but decided not to as it was buried in my vest pocket, under my gloves and sleeves (both of which I'd peeled off at mile 3). I hadn't looked at it the whole run, so I figured why start now? So I really didn't know if I'd run a sub-2 until I saw the finisher's chute. And once I saw the 1:57 on the board, my heart just soared.
In that brief sprint to the finish, I felt so lucky as I thought about everything that could have gone wrong, but didn't- no high winds, no motion sickness on the drive out, no nervous stomach/bowel issues, no water/fueling issues, no injuries/illness, no cramps, no dead legs...it was almost unbelievable how much went right for me, despite a somewhat lackluster training regimen. I had reduced my speed workouts each week due to an irritated Achilles, failed to do any weight bearing/cross training exercises, and Lord have mercy, I'd gained a few more pounds. So although part of my success was actually doing speedwork for the first time (for a half), an equally large part was just pure luck. I've had God-awful runs for no discernible reason, and the same could have happened today, but it didn't. For that, I am very, undeniably grateful.
There will always be as asterisk next to my two, recently achieved PRs in the full (4:25) and half (1:57), as they were both fast, downhill courses- but I'm still happy. I'm a lot older, slower and heavier than I used to be 12 years ago when I set my previous PRs. So I'll take it. Lord knows they're not anywhere near age-group podium finishes, and most of my friends could still run circles around me, but this Kona Kupuna is still thrilled.
Now that this goal has been checked, it's on to the much harder goal #2... This will involve a much longer distance sometime this summer (more details TBA). I'm excited, nervous, and praying to be blessed with such fortune a second time. Without being too melodramatic, I do believe I'm rounding the bases on what you could call my final, decent (run) performances. It just gets harder to run longer distances as you age. This is not true of everyone of course, but it's certainly true for me. I am ten times more injury/fall-prone in my forties than I ever was in my thirties...and I want my knees and cartilage to last me a long time. So I think after my next run, I'll take a good long break before I figure out what's next.
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| After the run...schlepping back to the car...wearing the single largest medal I've ever received from a race. It's heavier than my head. Seriously, it's kinda funny. This one will get donated with the rest, but it was cute. |
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| The final results. Just missed the win, only 123 other people were ahead of me by a hair. Just kidding, the winner clocked 5:33 min miles. Seriously, what a-hole does that?! I can't even run that pace for 100 yards without puking and peeing myself. Way to make us all look like jerks! :-D |
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