It isn’t half of anything….

Last Sunday I ran a “half” marathon. It’s easy for one to hear half marathon and discount the effort because it’s not the full blown ass kicking marathon. Truth is it’s not. The distance is half - but the effort will never be. Similar, some think a 5K is easy. Really? From the sound of the gun you push yourself quickly into the pain zone and those 3.1 miles are hard….they hurt….they test you. My point is simple, shorter does not mean easier. It simply means different. Whew, feels good to get that off my chest.

I should also say that I have respect for every distance and those who compete in them. I saw friends finish the marathon Sunday. Gus who I just met had a remarkable race and an incredible time. Rochelle was the first woman to cross the finish line! Dan with calves that cramped up at mile 25 never stopped moving forward. I believe he was at 3:05 or so at mile 25 and finished around 3:30. Loose math says 25 minutes for 1.1 miles. I can’t imagine 50 feet with cramping calves much less a mile plus. Inspired? Yeah, I think so.

We had a gaggle of half marathoners. Sharon was there to pace Christy. Sue signed up the day before and joined us, running with Jen. Jen who has such a special routine for this race that she wouldn’t carpool with us! She parks in the same stall every year! Freaky yes but we all have “those things” that we do come race day. And then there was Monica who in every photo looked like she was happy to be there! And we can never forget those that came to support. We saw Albert whom we’ve missed, Jim came out (I must note that he was looking dapper - blue shirt and shades), and Ken, who drove up all the way from Redmond – wow! Thank you guys!

My plan was to follow the plan. Sharon has long preached running the first half slower than the second, increasing speed at the halfway point and slicing down (meaning running faster every mile even though you have run further and are beginning to feel life ooze from your pores). I know, I remember thinking the same thing – she is one step away from a straight jacket! Crazy or not the deal is it works. I arrived thinking I’d pace out around 9:20 due to limited distance training, swollen glands in my neck, a bit of fatigue, and oh yes, seems I can be a pussy sometimes. I was feeling pretty good and finished the first half averaging 8:51. My mind quickly went to my PR and as I ran I was working the math and by mile 8 I had determined that it was possible to PR. Crap, so much for taking it easy, I now had time to make up if I was to hit my new goal.

I was doing fairly well but tiring. It was a flat course but honestly flat can punish your legs more than a having a hill. Did I mention the day was warm….and getting warmer. Anyway, I ended up next to a guy around mile 9 who mentioned he was on pace for a 1:56. I told him that would be a PR for me and I’d like to run with him. He gave me a “you bet” and we ran side by side. We had passed mile 11 when he said “you got it, I’ve been averaging an 8:40 pace”. I looked at him and shared that I hadn’t as I ran the first half around 8:51. He said “Then you have to run faster, get going, get out of here”. It was almost like an order. I nodded and took off. I admit those last miles felt like shit but my pace dropped to 8:04 and then 7:56. Coming in I heard the cheers that came at the right moment and pushed forward. No extra speed as there wasn’t any left, just a constant stride to the finish line. Yes, I waited for my new friend to come in and shook his hand as I thanked him for helping me hit my new goal.

Everyone had a good race….we all lived. Sharon took home 3rd in her age group which was funny. Funny because she did this while pacing Christy and running back and forth. Safe to say she ran much further than those who came in ahead of her! I was spent but happy. We all have something that feels out of sorts after a race but after a few days we all seem to get back to normal – with this group (myself included) I won’t even attempt to define what normal is. Fact is we don’t care. It works for us and at the end of the day we justify our crazy world by saying “it’s ok, we’re athletes”. That’s our happy place. Next stop for me is Portland – my hometown and my first 13.1 there. I can’t wait….