As some of you know, I ran in the National Half Marathon on March 17, which was also... St. Patrick's Day! Naturally, many of the racers wore green (I even saw a few bright green tutus). I wore a neon green shirt and matching socks, and borrowed a white bandana with a shamrock on the top from my roommate. I had originally wanted to get a shirt printed with the tagline from my title on the back- since people who were running behind me would see it- but I never ended up having time to make it.
Anyway, had been training to break my previous half marathon PR of 1:54, which I did last year, and I have been running fast enough in training that I was pretty sure I could do it. In fact, my actual goal was to get under 1:50 (in case you're wondering what that shakes out to, it's averaging about 8:20 minutes per mile). Ever since the marathon, I had been working more on my speed and the quality rather than quantity of my workouts. Additionally, the fact that I have been training for triathlons seems to have vastly improved my cardiovascular fitness, and I'm not as likely to get "burned out" from just running every day.
As the race day sun began to peek its head over Capitol Hill, the temp was in the 50s- perfect, though a bit warm by the end of the race. My roommate Bee and I got up in the darkness to get ready (I had my prerace meal of toast with peanut butter and banana), and headed out towards RFK stadium. Since we live on the Hill, we were able to walk for a bit until we caught a bus running toward the stadium, which was packed with racers (this reminded me forcibly of the day of the marathon, when of course only racers were on the metro at 5 am). We finally got there, and I was a nervous wreck (poor Bee, she had to deal with me being crazy!), worrying about getting our bags checked and finding Flash in time. We had a set meet-up time and place, but we never found each other there- so Bee and I walked to the starting line. She was in a different starting corral, so I hugged her goodbye, wished her luck, and jogged up towards mine.
I still had not given up hope that I would find Flash. I was not afraid to run by myself, since we almost always have to split up during a race, but Flash and I had rarely started one without each other. I stood up above the corral and searched for him, combing the crowd for a tall guy in a hat... and finally, I felt someone hug me from behind, and it was Flash! Flash, Speedy and M were all together and had gotten stuck when there was a metro fiasco. Now that I was able to calm my pre-race nerves down a bit, I settled down and waited for the starting gun.
Once our wave started, we began to run at a nice warm-up pace, still under 9 minute miles but not uber fast. As we started running down East Capitol and eventually turned onto Constitution, we got caught up in our adrenalin and were going at a pretty fast clip; our third mile was under 7:30. I realized that I needed to slow down a bit to make sure I could finish the race at a sub- 8:30 average, so I told Flash and Speedy we needed to take it down a notch. By the time we turned around on Constitution and started heading up 18th toward Dupont and Adams Morgan (also known as the loooong hill), I started feeling really good. My third-to-fourth-mile kick had begun, and right at that moment "The State of Massachusetts" by the Dropkick Murphys came on my ipod, and I really started kicking it into gear.
Unfortunately, at the same time, Speedy said he was feeling pretty tired already, and I told him to run at his own speed, but he insisted that he wanted to keep up with us. A woman near us said "run your own race"- and that's very true. You may have to run faster or slower than your running buddies (even if you want to stay together) because everyone has their own pace during different parts of a race. I learned that the hard way in the marathon, which may have contributed to my less-than-desirable last six miles.
As we started to run up the hill to Adams Morgan, which is the worst part of the race, I started to feel like my legs were really getting in gear. I still ran conservatively because I didn't want to run out of gas and bonk, and I told myself that I would wait until about mile 10 or 11 and let it shake loose. I could feel Flash and Speedy starting to hang back, and I tried to stay with them as long as I could. By the time we got to the long straightaway down North Capitol around mile 9 or 10, though, I had to just let myself fly. I felt amazing, and it was so much fun- I had been in such misery for the marathon, I forgot that racing could be such a heady experience. I felt like I was gliding over the pavement, caught up in the current of people all running down toward the Capitol in the distance. I looked down at my watch a couple of times, and I was running well under 7:40 minute mile pace, sometimes 7:20.
My new triathlon training buddy, Jewel, had agreed to run with me for the last two miles and pace me to the end- I knew it was more than likely that I would need moral support because Flash and I would probably be separated by then. As I rounded the corner and turned onto H street, and I spotted her (she was beaming, looking at all the racers and cheering) and yelled "Jewel!!" She looked almost surprised, but quickly started running with me. She chirped, "Look at you!! How's it going?" I told her that still felt pretty great, and that I was running at pace to beat my goal time.
About a mile to the finish, which is where I "hit the wall" (as in, got a wave of fatigue) the year before, I started to feel the wall creeping up. I had a mental arsenal, however, that I did not have last year- that there is nothing anywhere close to the physical and mental pain I went through during the marathon. I kept telling myself: "It is only one mile. You can do anything for one mile. This pain is NOTHING in comparison with the marathon. You know you can do this." I popped another gel shot (the clif shot blocks I use in a race) and a little while later I got a second wind back. By the end I was running at low 7's.
I was checking my watch a bit by that time, and I realized that I was going to be VERY close to 1:50. When Jule peeled off and yelled "see ya at the finish!" I yelled back: "meet me at the beer tent!" and I started sprinting up the last hill. I kept looking at my watch to see how close I was to 1:50- one minute, 40 seconds, 30 seconds... (oh no!! I'm so close!) I rounded the corner and kicked it into high gear as I saw the finish line, running as fast as I possibly could. I crossed the line and stopped my watch- 1:50:06, just barely over. I was still really happy with that time, but I now know that I could have probably raced slightly less conservatively at the beginning. Still, I beat my previous PR by several minutes.
Anyway, running the half marathon made me remember how much fun running mid-distance races can be. As much as the marathon was, shall we say, a traumatizing experience, it really taught me how much mental and physical pain I can endure. I am now training in full force for my triathlons- my first one is in a couple of weeks, so stay tuned!
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