Posts Tagged ‘13.1’

We walked out the door a few minutes later than I would have liked. I knew I would still have time at the start, but at that moment I was feeling the nerves and wanted to get moving. Beth walked me to the shuttle, where I boarded up with fifty other runners to be taken up to Balboa Park.

Waiting in the crowd, I was expecting more nerves. As I slowly shuffled towards the start line in my corral I was expecting fear, anxiety and self doubt. I envisioned having to tell myself over and over that I could do it and not to give into the fear. There was none of that. There was… Nothing. Only determination.

The closer I got to the start line the calmer I felt. I emptied my head of all thought and just focused on the present. Everyone around me was texting, or taking selfies or facetwittering, and having made the decision to leave my phone behind, I enjoyed these moments of being unplugged from the world and just listened to the music and the MC for the event. By the time I found my corral, she was about nine ahead. Several minutes later, she launched the corral in front mine and I put one earbud in my ear. Then the count started, and at five I put the other one in. At one, I pressed play.

Nice job iPod. I seriously could not have picked a better song.

I started my watch as I stepped over the line and got to work. I made an effort to stay slow at first. I picked a few other runners to pace behind, but eventually broke away. The first thing of note was working the water stations. I wasn’t sure how this was going to work, but it quickly became clear that I had made the right choice in leaving my hydration belt behind. It’s true that maneuvering through the water stations can be tricky and I found that actually drinking from a cup while running is even trickier. The first one I damned near drowned myself, and after that decided, screw the time, I was going to walk through the stops when I needed them. Which, by the way, turned out to be just about all of them. I had considered skipping one or two, but once I got a routine down, there was no reason not to grab a quick drink along the way.

The thing I was totally not expecting was the elevation change. Hills, man. Steep, gnarly hills. All my running here has been down by the water, and while I was aware that San Diego had hills, I wasn’t really expecting to run them. As it turns out, I was quite wrong. I saw the first couple coming, and quickly came up with a plan: take advantage of the downhills and go easy getting up the other side. A couple of the downhills were so steep that I just had to focus on keeping my balance rather than going fast. A small price to pay for not toppling my fellow runners.

I settled into a comfortable pace and before I knew it, four miles had gone by and I came up on mile five. Sponsored by Wear Blue Run To Remember, this stretch of road was lined with the names and faces of service men and women who have been killed in action overseas. Running along the left side of the pack, I made sure to look at every name and every face as I went by. I was struck by how many of these heroes were just in their twenties, some with young families. So many young and promising lives cut short. Just following these pictures, were what I assumed were veterans holding American flags and giving up high fives and words of encouragement to us all as we passed. It was a touching display of respect for these brave people that have sacrificed so much for our country and way of life.

The halfway mark blended into eight miles, then ten and before long I was running up to the twelve mile marker. Up the hill and into the tunnel lit with flashing lights and a disco ball, I reached into my right pocket and pulled out this small piece of metal and rubber.

image

This shifter knob and the tail light are all I have left of my Triumph Bonneville. In a homage to it, and my story I decided to carry it with me for all 13.1 miles. For the last mile, I closed my hand around it and pushed just a little harder.

The crowd thickened considerably as the pack got closer to the end. I made the last turn and I could see the finish line. I picked Beth out in the crowd and gave her a high five as I ran passed. It was so close. Just keep pushing.

My feet stepped over the line, and it was over. So many miles run, injuries sustained and years to get to here. I slowed to a walk and made my way through the crowd towards our prearranged meeting point. We embraced in the street, and she said “Did you see the time?” I had been keeping track along the way, but the accuracy of my watch was a little off, so I mostly just watched my pace. I had no idea what my time actually was. I started the morning with a goal of 2:10:00 and in the end, I crossed the finish line in 2:05:48. I couldn’t have been happier with that.

Back in the hotel, I feel pretty good about what I accomplished today. The last time I ran 13.1 in training, which was a few years ago, my time was somewhere around 2:20:00. I’m pleased to see the hard work and training paid off. The plan for now is to get home, take a few days off and rest, and then start planning the next race. I’ve got a time to beat.

Here are the official stats of my run:

Advertisements

Up before dawn. 

From my hotel window the city appears to be comfortably asleep, but I know that at least 30,000 other people are starting their day the same way. The water is heating up for my coffee and oatmeal, and I stare nervously at my race bib. I’m relatively confident that today is going to go alright, but still the nerves manifest themselves in a quickened heart beat and a minor tremble in my fingertips. Just in the last six months alone, I have run nearly two hundred miles to train for this race. I know I can do this. I have a reasonable plan for the race, and if I stick to that, everything should be just fine. 

Welcome to my early morning pep talk. 

I know it’s easy to be overwhelmed at the thought of running 13.1 miles. I can feel it now while having my coffee. It’s a good time to remind myself that like everything else in life, rather than be overwhelmed by the enormity of a problem, or event, breaking it down into smaller parts makes it much more manageable. So, what do I need to do right now?

1. Eat, drink, shower and get dressed.

2. Find the shuttle to the start line

3. Warm up and stretch

4. Run

And that where it gets tricky. Running the first few steps and thinking about the 13.1 miles ahead can be daunting and demotivating. After I cross the start line, what’s next? Salt every couple miles, a gel every 45 minutes. I also break the race into quarters. Counting up to the halfway point rather than down from 13.1. Giving myself these smaller goals inside the larger one helps to not get overwhelmed. Most of all, I have to stay positive. I think I’m pretty good at that. Am I nervous? Of course. But am I going to fail? Nope. Am I going to quit? Not on your life.

As I have checked off my training runs, logged the miles, and finally arrived at the morning of the race, it has occurred to me that training for and running this race has become about more than just running a race or checking off some bucket list item. This year it has become a part of my survival story. I didn’t die on that road in September. I’m still in the fight and I’m not quitting.

Here goes nothing.

We got on the flight yesterday afternoon. Just about six hours door to door, I forgot how long the transcon flights can be. The captain was a friend of mine from my days on the Airbus, so we chatted for a few minutes before I settled into my seat next to Beth. It’s always nice to see a familiar face. We got in late-ish last night and grabbed an Uber to our hotel in the Gaslamp Quarter. This morning, I was up at 0530, just before dawn.

Twenty-four hours to go.

In my entire running career this is the closest I’ve ever been to running this race. I have mixed emotions as I sit here in bed waiting for the sun to come up. My default is to say I’m nervous. That’s mostly true. I’m not especially worried about the distance, or the course. I’ve run in San Diego many times, and while the route is different and certainly longer, none of that really bothers me. It’s all the unknowns that come with running my first real half marathon. Things like, where do I get the shuttle? How will I find the right start line? And mostly, water. I’ve trained all my long runs with a hydration belt, carrying 40oz of water with me. My impression is that this isn’t something people do on race day, so I’m going to have to hit the water stops. I know that’ll slow me down, and I know I can do ten miles without water, but since that’s not ideal on race day I’m going to have to make it a point to stop. Since I’ve never actually done this before, I suspect it’s going to be a learning experience.

I’m putting together a plan for tomorrow morning. The timing will depend on when I start, which I’ll find out later today. I’m assuming I’ll be up at 4ish, make some coffee and oatmeal, relax for a few minutes and get my gear together. Since I’m not running too fast I’m expecting to be on one of the later busses to the start line. I have a plan for the race, and I think it’s reasonable. I’ve been training my long runs at a 10:00 per mile pace, so I’m hoping to be done in around 2:10:00. Is it lightning fast? No, but it’s who cares? I’m getting it done. After this race is over and I start looking to the next one, I’ll start figuring out how to get faster. Right now, the goal is to get it done, the time doesn’t matter as much.

Considering my history with attempting to run races, I’ll spend the rest of the day wrapped in bubble wrap and looking both ways before crossing any streets. This is happening.

Twenty four hours to go.

image

Here’s something you probably don’t know about me: I’m a half marathon runner who has never actually run a half marathon race. In my running career I have trained for three different half marathon events, always scheduled late in the season, and each year something has happened that has prevented me from being able to actually run the race. The first year I couldn’t get the days off, and the second year poor running shoe choices led to crippling shin splints that derailed my entire season. Now, this past season everything was looking great. I was healthy, no injuries and by late September I was right on track in my training program. Then, in an almost absurd escalation of stupid things preventing me from running races, an impatient pizza delivery driver cut in front of me while I was on my way home on my Triumph Bonneville, causing an accident that landed me in the hospital, and put an abrupt end to my 2015 running season.

I was two weeks away.

I’d like to think that in those few moments spent under engine block of a Volkswagen, I had a moment of clarity. Not of the meaning of life, the universe and everything. No, I’d like to think that while I was laying under that car and fighting my way out, somewhere in the far recesses of my mind it occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, I need to adjust my running schedule so I can run a half marathon earlier in the year. This October thing is clearly not working out.

Right now it’s February 2016 and where am I? I’ve been trying to stay motivated and keep running through the winter this year to maintain some level of fitness in the hopes of not starting at zero in the spring. I’ve been doing mostly 5k’s because well, it’s winter, and who wants to be outside in the cold ever, let alone in running gear? It hasn’t been consistent, but I’ve been going when the temps are 30 or better. Consistent or not, that’s the best I’ve ever done since I start running six years ago. A couple days ago I was able to pick up a long layover in Florida and took the opportunity to go for a longer run in the warm weather. Since I didn’t have to worry about being cold, I decided to push myself to do a five miler. I was initially going to run/walk it but when I got started I decided to just go and see how it went. All in all, not bad. Not fast, but whatever, it’s winter.

So a long run of five miles, in mid February. That’s my starting point. It’s not great, but it’s not completely awful either. I started looking around and discovered that San Diego has a Half/Marathon event in early summer. That’s roughly 15 weeks away. If I chose the most conservative training program I would likely not have enough time,  especially considering it’s still very much winter here. It’s going to be tight, but I think it’s worth doing. It also helps that San Diego is one of my favorite places in the country, and this would be a pretty good excuse to take a long weekend to go visit.

And just like that, the goal is set.

San Diego, June 5, 2016.