13.1 - Done

At 4:30 in the morning I stated the day’s mantra, “here goes nothing”. In just a few short hours I would be starting my very first half marathon. Now I fully acknowledge that 4:30 is mighty early, but this early start to my day was not for mental preparation. Not only was the Phoenix advertised race starting 22+ miles away in Mesa/Apache Junction, but per the grand design of the race planners I had to catch a ride on one of the buses running between 4 AM and 6 AM that dropped runners off at the start line waiting area for a 7 AM start time. Heading the warning that not all runners would fit on the last bus I planned to catch a 5:30ish departure.

Jonathan and Jackson dropped me off at the buses at 5:30, 20 minutes before the sun was even expected to rise. I rode with fellow runners in the darkness to the start line waiting area and huddled distantly and strangely in solitude with strangers around one of the many small fire pits. The temperature was somewhere in the 40s and I was having difficulty understanding why we were made to stand around in the smoke filled waiting area for about an hour before we could even head to the start line.

After jumping about in place in a sad attempt to warm my semi frozen extremities the race started promptly at 7 with the blast of a cannon. I knew right away I wans’t off to a good start and it was going to be a very long run. As my frozen feet thunked down on the downhill pavement I tried to figure out a way to slow down to no avail. While thawing my left toes started to protest joined by a twinge of pain in my right knee and foot. Mind you, I’ve barely hit 1.5 miles. I tried my best to enjoy the desert scenery without thinking about how much further I had to go.

After we left the park the run continued along the back streets of the boomburb that is Mesa. Scenery included massive stuccoed walls barely containing the monstertron development neighborhoods with homes where residents could pass salt shakers between neighbors. At the finishing line I heard someone comment that the run included beautiful scenery, I wondered where she had just run and which massive stucco monster she resided in. Back to the run at hand.

Since I knew Jonathan had dropped me off and I had provided the locations of suggested cheering locations I searched for him around every minimally populated cheering hang out. By mile 7 it was a good thing I hadn’t yet seen him since I was pretty sure I was about to tell him to pull up the car because I was done. By this point my frustration had built to the point of a near emotional moment. No single mile had been pleasant, I was barely over half way done, my right knee was so tired it was starting to tighten making a long stride out of the question and I was going to have to walk in a race for the very first time. Before one ounce of dramatic moisture could leave my eyes I pulled it together and decided I needed to take a breath and walk for a bit. I walked for just a about 20 seconds when I realized that the slower tempo actually gave my knee cap what felt like a better opportunity to dislocate thanks to an exhausted IT Band. Back to running I went.

Despite my very early onset of survivors shuffle I was surprised to see my mph was still in the low 9 minute range. Around mile 10 I tried to convince myself that the 5K remainder of the run wasn’t going to be bad at all. A mere 3 + miles, I can do this. Despite best effort it was no pleasure cruise. I started seeing a few buddies along the remainder of my run, people who I would pass while they walked, and who passed me up until they started walking again. It was semi calming to see I was not alone in my uncomfortable, slow going situation. Rounding the corner at mile 11 I knew I needed to walk a little before I started shuffling a hole in the pavement. As I started walking, scooting to the side as not to interrupt fellow runners three people passed me, one making the comment “running by yourself has to be so lonely”. Thankfully I didn’t have any rocks on hand because I couldn’t guarantee one wouldn’t have pinged off the back of her head. I took minimal satisfaction when I passed their little threesome after returning to my running shuffle.

No this is not me finishing, but this is around the time
I finished despite getting no pictures : (

Seeing the mile marker for 13 was a beautiful thing, but mind you, still not enjoyable. As I made my way to the finish line I managed to break away from any other runner and actually had my name called out as I finished. Hooray!!! 2 hours and 2 minutes later it was all over. I tin man walked to pick up my finishers medal and a few snacks before meeting up with Jonathan and Jackson to head home. 

Before I ate breakfast I was 98.9% sure I would never do that again. But after some food, a shower, a trip to the dog park and a very much needed nap I began to re-consider. My frustration and disappointment in how difficult the run turned out to be, as well as my lingering stiffness would eventually subside. Just like everything else in life, these feelings were not permanent, this too would pass. As the day continued and we celebrated with dinner out I started to realize the sickness that is athletic addiction was creeping in. Yes, I would likely give this another shot, but the next time I’d be sure to train with more consistency and find a better course. Till next time : )