I could barely sleep the night before. Partially because our motel room had no air conditioning so it was incredibly hot and uncomfortable and partially because of nerves.
The morning of the race, I was the first one of our group awake. Honestly, it was only because I hadn't slept. I had gone over it a hundred times in my head. I needed to get the baby powder and anti-chaffing gel on my sensitive bits, eat some carbs and protein, pull my short hair back out of my face and hydrate. My stomach was in knots, and my body was already tired. It was a relief when the other girls woke up, because at least talking and joking around helped to take my mind off of things.
The Slacker Half Marathon boasts that it is "the highest, downhill marathon in the country" and as we drove up the mountain to the base of the Loveland Ski Resort, which would serve as our starting line, that OH SHIT feeling was crawling up the back of my throat and becoming more and more nauseating with each mile. What on earth did I sign up for?
I didn't bring my iPhone with me on this run, because I didn't want to drain the battery. Instead, I brought my little shuffle, so that comforting voice telling me my distance and pace every 10 minutes from my iPhone ap, was not going to join me on this run. It was up to my watch and the mile marker signs, to judge pace.
When that gun finally sounded at the start of the race, 1,667 people inched past the starting line and down a dusty path. The first few minutes of the race are filled with memories of kicked up dust, people shoving past one another and surviving other bottleneck issues that tend to happen in situations like this.
Then I got into my groove, found my music, marveled at the glorious Colorado scenery, and ran. The first 4 miles were a breeze. The downhill was working in my favor and I was feeling good. Then, out of no where, there was a hill to climb. I looked at the hill and assessed my skills and said, "Screw this, I'm walking". Since I had only run 9 miles at my max before, I didn't want to burn out on the steep uphills. I climbed the hill at mile 4 and then continued with my run. Thankfully, when I was starting to feel tired enough to talk myself out of running anymore (around mile 6 or so), I saw my friend Ashley up ahead. I sprinted up to her and she was my Godsend for the rest of the run. She motivated me, encouraged me, and even got me to do those crazy jumping photos with the photographers. I am sure that she slowed her pace to stay with me on the second half of that run, but I am thankful that she stuck with me.
Things were going well until around Mile 12. All of the miles had been marked on the same foam like poster board along the race. It had felt like it had been awhile since I had seen mile 11, so after running down several steep switch backs, I saw a turned over foam board sign. In my head and in my heart, I knew that must be the mile 12 marker and I looked at Ashley and said I wanted to finish strong and sprint the last mile. So I gave it my all and started running my ass off. A few minutes later, a sign came out of no where and what it said literally stopped me in my tracks - Mile 12. What the fuck?!? Mile 12? I have been sprinting my ass off for the past 5 minutes and I am just at Mile 12? Ashley realized that I was no longer next to her so she turned around and saw me standing a few feet back, with my mouth gaped open, and my feet heavy as concrete. "No!" she shouted at me. "You are not stopping now". I shot her a painful, puppy dog look and she snapped me a "Bitch, you are going to finish this race" look, so I begrudgingly picked up my feet and started running. Mile 12 was my 'Runner's Wall". I was making deals with myself, one more step. One more light pole, only 10 more minutes. Only 9 minutes and 59 more seconds and so on. But Mile 12 wouldn't end. Mile 12 was twisting and turning through the downtown dirt roads of Georgetown, CO and at every dusty bend, there were more encouraging people, telling us we were almost at the end, the end was two blocks away, the end was at the next corner and lies, and lies and lies. Finally, when I really thought we were almost at the end, we turned a corner and there it was... A WATER STATION? WTF? ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?! WHERE IS THE FUCKING FINISH LINE!?!?! And next to the water station was the 3rd big hill of the race. So not only was Mile 12 never ending, it was adding an uphill obstacle, while dust and dirt flew into my face. Mile 12 was a total bitch. I couldn't run anymore and I had to walk up the hill, at the end of the race. And I felt totally defeated. Thankfully, there were curses from other runners and it seemed like everyone around me, walked up that hill. For a minute there, my skin went clammy, and I was covered in goosebumps and thought I might pass out. But I shoved some nuts and Gatorade in me and that feeling passed. At the top of the hill and around another corner, the finish line rose up - and Ashley looked at me, and in her Southern accent she said -"Finish strong girl". So I started running the last tenth (ish) of a mile and crossed the finish line.
My goal was to finish in under 3 hours, so even with 'Mile 12: Soul Sucker' in the mix, I was incredibly surprised by my time for my first half marathon:
Time: 2:25:54
Pace: 11:09
Lesson Learned: Most of the lessons I learned during this race, have to do with taking care of myself. I should have stopped at some point between mile 6.5 and mile 12 to get some food in me. I needed some nuts or a gel or something to keep me going at the end. Sprinting into uncertainty is not a good idea. And I am much, much stronger than I think. I am proud of myself for finishing, for running the majority of the race and am thankful for the friends who did it with me.
Yayyyyy, that's a pretty good time for walking hills, lady! Congrats on finishing strong :)
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