I ran a half-marathon yesterday.
I. Ran. A half. MARATHON.
That would be 13.1 miles. I did walk up a hill or two, and I also walked through the water stops, mainly because it is damned hard to drink from a tiny paper cup while you're running. But all in all, I ran that sucker. And I'm sore and proud and tired and excited for my next big race - a full marathon, which I plan to run in December. Whether I actually do or not will mostly hinge on how effectively I can speed-train over the next 3 months. Because if I'm going to do a full marathon, I need to be faster than I am right now. I plodded through the half in just under 3 hours. Most marathon courses are open for 6. I don't have to run a Boston Qualifier or anything (at least, not this year!), but it would be good to build up enough speed that I won't be worrying the whole time about whether I'll make it over the finish line before they close the damned course on me.
Anyway. My half marathon.
I ran the Oklahoma City Memorial Half Marathon. We arrived on Saturday afternoon, the day before the race. After checking into our hotel, we went straight to the expo center to pick up all the race paraphernalia for S, who was running the kids' marathon, and I...race bib, time chip, t-shirt, and miscellaneous goodies which, for reasons understood only by God knows whom, included waffle mix. After that, there wasn't much to do before 4:30, which was when the marathon chairman was giving race instructions, so we wandered out to an art festival that was taking place about a block away. It would have been a lot of fun, except for the ridiculous number of people. I was on edge the whole time trying to keep track of S, it was hot out, and none of us enjoyed it in the least. Thank god, we didn't have long to be out there before it was time to be back at the expo for race instructions, which turned out to be exceedingly useful. After that...the pasta dinner.
Marathons traditionally hold a pasta dinner the evening before the race, because most of the runners load up on carbs for the final week or two of training. I probably won't attend the pasta dinner at every distance race I run, but this one had two huge points in its favor - it was being held on the terrace overlooking the Oklahoma City Memorial, and Joan Benoit Samuelson was scheduled to speak. Joan Benoit Samuelson is bad-ass, and I couldn't believe I was going to get to see her up close and personal, let alone hear what she had to say about the race I was about to run. She turns 50 this month, and she looks fantastic. She's a lot shorter than I thought she would be - probably around my height, which is 5'1". I was pretty happy to see that, since it blows all these theories out of the water that you have to be tall with long legs to be a good runner. Afterwards I got to talk to her a little bit, and I think that was the highlight of my entire weekend. When I told her that Sunday would be my first half-marathon, she said that she was running the half-marathon, too, and it was also her first. I feel oddly giddy about the fact that Joan Benoit Samuelson and I ran the same first half-marathon. Of course, she completely friggin' smoked me, but it was fun to stand at the starting line and think of her several yards ahead of me in the crowd, both of us anticipating the same miles in front of us. It also gave me some added motivation during the race to think of her having run in this exact same spot not long before me.
Anyway. The race. We woke up at, God help us, 4:30 am in order to be dressed and get to the starting line by 5:30. Starting time was at 6:30, but there was a prayer service, 168 seconds of silence (one for each of the victims), and several other things that I didn't want to miss before the starting gun. Also, it turned out that I needed the extra time for stretching and for standing in a ridiculously long line to pee.
The first several miles, I felt really good. The sun hadn't warmed things up too much yet, and I just plodded along, keeping myself at a 13 minute mile pace (which is EXTREMELY slow). I did pass tons of walkers, though, so that was encouraging. At least I wasn't going to finish dead fucking last. As we passed by the Oklahoma Capital Building, "Damn, It Feels Good to Be A Gangsta" started playing on my iPod, which amused me so much that I sped up quite a bit, and really had to watch myself.
Spectators were pretty sparse until we started going through the residential neighborhoods, mostly during the second half of the race. A little past the midway point, there was a switchback down a side street in a nice little neighborhood, and some poor pissed-off woman was yelling at the race marshalls that they had to let her through because goddammit, she needed to get home. I have no idea how that one got resolved, since she was still sitting there by the time I was gone. Otherwise, the residents of the neighborhoods we ran through were incredibly supportive, sitting on lawn chairs holding up signs, cheering for us, playing upbeat music from portable CD players, and occasionally passing out bottles of water or Powerade to whoever wanted one (and that was in addition to the water and Powerade stops). Little kids held out their hands for high-fives as we passed. We even ran by one yard that had a full bar set up on a card table. At about Mile 11, someone was handing out leis, and I crossed the finish line wearing a purple one.
Through about the last third or so of the race course, each water and Powerade stop also had a medical tent, but you didn't really notice that because each stop outdid all of the others. One was set up with a tropical theme, complete with blow-up palm trees and reggae music. At each water stop, the volunteers handing out water cheered us on, every one louder than the last, and sometimes they encouraged us by name (our race bibs had our first names on them). At another, there was a woman blowing bubbles at us. At one point, there was a deejay. By the time it had gotten warm out, there were even sprinklers set up along the course for us to run under if we wanted to. It was fantastic. I swear, if I had that kind of support for every long run I did, I'd be ready for a marathon by June. I'm sure I looked like a slow, sweaty, pudgy, plodding butterball, but I'll be damned if the race volunteers and spectators didn't make me feel like a total rock star.
I could see the finish line from quite a ways away. About a block before I reached it, I saw my dad, who had come to watch both S and I run. I was able to say hi to him, but I don't think I slowed down any. Then about 50 yards ahead was S, with The Ex (whom I mostly tried to ignore, to tell the truth). S and I were so happy to see each other. By that point, I was extremely close to the finish, and it kind of becomes a blur from there.
I remember looking for J. I found out afterwards that he was sitting up in the bleachers that lined the finish line (and which I don't even remember seeing, even though he took a picture of me looking almost directly at him). At some point, I went into overdrive. In movies at times like that, they always do slow-motion, and you can hear the crowd cheering but it's dim and in the background, and the only thing you can hear is this slow, deep pound-pound-pound, which is the feet of whatever character is running to the finish. That's EXACTLY what it was like. I could feel my body speeding up and my strides lengthening, and I could hear the cheering, but I wasn't really registering it. The only things I was aware of were my own legs and the finish line coming toward me.
I don't remember a lot about the first few minutes after I crossed the finish line, either. I do remember that my race number belt and my iPod had to come off NOW. I remember a race volunteer asking me how I felt, and I remember that it surprised me, because I didn't feel ready to faint or puke, so surely I didn't look like I was about to. I remember walking toward whoever hands out the medals, and they didn't know what to do with me because my race number was already off. I hope to God I was gracious. Then my dad was there, and J, and Spencer, and unfortunately The Ex, who wouldn't leave me the fuck alone, and he got all hovery and repeatedly demanded that I keep moving like he knew jack shit about running 13 miles, and he was getting the fuck on my nerves and I wished he would go the hell away so that I could enjoy my moment already, for chrissake. And I almost cried when I hugged my dad and heard the pride in his voice (no idea what he said, but he got his point across). And S was so proud and happy and keyed up, and we got to show our medals off to each other. And there was a cinnamon bagel and revolting yellow Powerade and an orange slice and an apple involved somewhere in the mix. And I forgot to turn in my time chip and had to go back and find someone to take it off me, thus avoiding shelling out $30 for the damned thing.
My finishing time was 3:01 and change, but I'm pretty sure my chip time will be a few minutes under that. It really isn't much to brag about, breaking 3 hours in a half-marathon, but I came in under what I thought I would. Also, J told me later that he had one of his friends check my pace online (at the halfway point, our time was logged via the chip on our shoes), and I finished the second half faster than I did the first. That's called a negative split, and to a distance runner - which I think I've now officially earned the right to call myself - it's a very good thing. So overall, I'm really pleased with how I did.
I didn't get to see S run his kids' marathon, because I was only about halfway through my race when it started. I plan to be there for the next one, though...he's already wanting to register for another kids' marathon, and I know of one coming up in November in our hometown. He's also asking me about downloading the tally sheet for next year's Oklahoma City Memorial Kids' Marathon. I had to explain to him that they're still cleaning up trash from this one, and we have to give them time to at least set the date for the 2008 race, but he's still really excited about the November race here at home, and wanting to register for that. Exactly the same way I feel about my December marathon.
I think I may be raising a running partner.
I know this was a long entry. Sorry if it was boring. I just wanted to remember everything I could about yesterday, and putting it here is as good a way as any.
Tomorrow evening: a two-hour massage. Damned if I don't deserve it.
