Full Metal Lunchbox

 



Yesterday I ran my first half marathon.






Here is the route:







This was my first real road race since the Shamrock Shuffle and is what I'd been training for the past three months.

Overall I did better than expected, though the going was tough the entire way.



30 minutes before start time.  Shea provided us both with some inspiring warmup music.

We didn't start together and I saw Shea only once during the race, as he was passing me at mile 2.  

For Shea it would end up being a very challenging day.

1600 people showed up, many of whom were excellent runners.  I started in the front 1/3 of the pack to avoid any bottleneck at the starting line, but none of the faster runners shoved me or cut me off (unlike at Shamrock).  I would also like to point out, for what it's worth, that I have never in my life seen such patient and polite lines for the port-o-potties.

Mile:  1
Pace:  7:56

Typical for my lack of discipline, I started out at a brisk pace.  I don't know what made me think I could keep up with all the Boston Marathon alums and other serious runner types, but I gave it my all.  Being passed by people is never fun.  (I would be passed by people until at least mile 7.)

I was struck by the tranquility of this suburban course.  Especially early in the race, when there were no cars and few spectators along the route.


Mile:  3
Pace:  9:28

After a couple of miles I came to my senses and settled into a comfortable nine and a half minute pace.  I had trained to run this race at a 10:00-10:30 pace, but those plans fell away when I was faced with an intimidating crowd and my own overconfidence.

My new goal was to finish the race in under two hours.


Mile:  9
Pace:  8:59

The big hill the race promoters warned us about ended up not being that big a deal, and may have even provided some relief to my overworked leg muscles by temporarily re-focusing the stress on different muscles.  But all the turns of the course around residential neighborhoods were unwelcome distractions, serving to remind me how far I still had to go.  A straighter course would have allowed me to zone out better.



Jeanne took this picture just as I was starting to realize that the last few miles were going to be difficult.  My motivation was slipping, my quads were screaming with pain, and the Cliff Shot I had carefully divided into three portions hit my stomach like a rock.

Jeanne's cheering helped just when I was starting to wonder what in the hell I was doing out there.


Mile:  11
Pace:  9:21

The woman I had been pacing behind for six miles finaly fell away and I was on my own.


I tried to sprint, but my legs wouldn't budge.

C'mon, damn it!

Saw a number of injured runners fall by the wayside and a couple of bicycle collisions.

I tried to slow down at one point, but running slower made the pain more intense.  So, unable to sprint or rest, I maintained a steady pace.

This was the only part of the race where I passed people by.  Everyone appeared to be in some kind of pain.


Mile:  13
Pace:  8:37

My goal of finishing in under two hours was frustratingly in sight... IF ONLY I COULD FUCKING SPRINT!

But my legs, finaly fed up with the oppressive instructions from my brain, took over and would not respond to my commands.


I did manage to pickup the pace a bit, but it wasn't enough.




It was when I reached the rubberized track for the final lap that I realized I would just barely miss my goal of finishing in under 2:00.



Unofficial Time:  2:02





Now I know what some of you are thinking: "Isn't 2:02 pretty much the same thing as 2:00?"

No, it's not.  Not when it's the goal itself that keeps you going.

Overall, however, I was extremely pleased with my performance.  When I started training for this race I never in my wildest dreams thought I would do so well.  And as an added ego boost, many of the runners with whom I originally trained in the CARA program finished at least 20 minutes behind me.

Now I have a new goal: run the distance at 9:30/mile or better and still have something left over for the end.  Few people run their first marathon in under 4 hours, but I'm going to try at the Chicago Marathon in the fall.  Yesterday's race did not make me any less stubborn.  I have learned nothing.





Aaah, sweet pain!





I finaly took my first ice bath.

Justyna's cosmopolitan helped with the shock of getting into the icy water.  Once submerged I felt quite comfortable.




Later that night myself, Shea, and Justyna enjoyed dinner at Wildfire, followed by more drinks and cigars at Sheffields.

 


After we dropped Shea off, I returned home for one hour of sleep before having to go into work early to cover for a co-worker.

As I type this my shift is nearly half over.  I can't wait to go home later this morning and take another ice bath.

--
Acknowledgements:  Thanks to Shea for being such a great role model, to Jeanne for her photographs and enthusiastic cheering, and to Justyna for everything (including the best pancakes).




----
UPDATE:  

My official time was 2:01:57 (9:19/mile pace).

As of 5AM Tuesday morning it still hurts to sit down or descend stairs.  But I successfully took a couple of short bike rides this morning, and that helped.  Getting a combined afternoon/evening total of 9 hours of sleep yesterday didn't hurt either.