I run. Therefore I am a runner. Anyone who runs is a runner. It doesn't matter if the person running can run a 2 hour marathon or a 6 hour marathon. Anyone who runs is a runner. I believe this. I have to believe this. I have to remind myself of this ... a lot. I run. Therefore I am a runner, but that doesn't make me a confident runner.
I filled in for someone and ran the Schaumburg Half Marathon and Turkey Trot the weekend after Thanksgiving. It seems like a lifetime ago, or at least almost three weeks ago. In part because it's almost been that long. Life has been busy and wrapping my head around this race has been a little weird.
My mom ran the 5k Turkey Trot, so early in the morning my parents with my godparents in tow came to pick me up and we headed to the event. I ran a 5k on January 1, 2015 and it was warmer that day than it was on November 28, 2015. Since my mom was running the 5k which began prior to the Half Marathon we got to the event early and was outside for a while. The grass was wet, there were puddles, there was wind, and there was no sun.
My mom has been to several of my races, as well as raced herself. My godmother came to my first triathlon. My dad and godfather had never been to a race. This aspect in and of itself was relatively hilarious and entertaining. I got a cowbell while I was at the Chicago Marathon and I put my dad in charge of it. He really didn't believe me that people live for the cowbell to be rung and it's a serious job. He learned early on as we waited for my mom to go by the 1.25 mile mark of the 5k.
After my mom ran by us I had to line up for the half marathon. I lined up near the back at the 11:00/mile pace group. I know what I can and cannot do, and setting myself up for failure from the beginning is idiotic. The start was pretty bizarre. It's what I would call a funnel start. The mass of people I found myself in and myself had to trickle through a small gate; it took a bit just to get going after that.
I started out strong. I felt good. I was moving right along. I found myself right along with the 10:40 pace leaders. I could do this, I was doing this. I zoomed by my cowbell ringing group with a smile on my face and waving hands. I felt great for the first three miles, I passed the 10:40 pace leaders. It was with timid decision I did such. I knew I couldn't keep at the pace I was, but I was getting stuck in pockets of people. The trail/run itself was pretty weird. It was mostly on a path that was directional, so eventually runners would be on the other side on their way back when I presumably was on my way out.
I found myself running with two women running together. I was keeping pace with them and felt great still. They went on ahead and I had a moment of confusion. Do I keep with them because I felt good? What if they went faster than me after we got out of the pocket of people? Then I'd not have them. I'd be on my own. I might as well run on my own. I ran on my own. It took just those few moments of thought to find myself from pacing less than 11;00/mile to over 12:00/mile. I'll never know what I could have done had I stayed with them as long as I could.
I continued on and as I expected as I was still on my way to mile 5 people were well on their way back. It happens. I'm not the fastest runner, but I run.
Something happened during this race that had not happened before during any race of mine. I had drank extra water the day before so I wouldn't dehydrate. Unfortunately it wasn't hot. I had to stop at mile 5.5 at a portapotty and pee. It was quick. I went back and forth trying to decide if I had to go or not. Good thing I stopped because there was not another opportunity along the way if I remember correctly.
I was still on my way out and a friend from the gym passed me on this way back in. I run-texted Kristine to tell her that Jason looked great and was ahead of me. My split for the halfway point was 1:10:27.7. I had run 6.2 miles in 70 minutes. For me that's not bad. Not bad at all. And my mental running math told me that I was on pace for my fastest half marathon yet.
The course was something else. There I said it. I'm not a snob, but the day before the race we were notified the course was rerouted. At one point and time we had to run off a path through muddy, wet forest preserve grass.
Something happened around mile 8, my right hip started to hurt. It was also around mile 8 I met a group of three women. I eventually began to call them the Lollipop Guild in my head. Anyone who runs is a runner. These women were dressed in bright colors; one in green, one in blue, one in red. I give them credit, they were without a doubt at least in their 50's and probably pushing late 50's if not later. But they were running. Now granted they would only run for a minute at a time taking up the entire pathway, but for that minute they bolted. The next three minutes they'd leisurely walk taking up the entire pathway.
I spent the next 3 miles jockeying back and forth with them. I'd pass them, having to run off the path to get along their taking up the entire pathway walking or their occasional stopping to stretch and do yoga poses. Then their one minute run would come and lightening fast they'd zoom by.
THIS.WAS.ANNOYING. I had to remind myself "Anyone who runs is a runner." I got annoyed with them. The only way I could get through it was to call them the Lollipop Guild. They weren't whimsical like The Wizard of Oz, but they were however dressed in the colors of the three main Lollipop Guild Members which then made me think of when I saw The Wizard of Oz on the big screen and the last living Munchkins were there. Basically I found my happy place with these women. Each time I'd pass them I'd start humming "We represent the lollipop kids, the lollipop kids, the lollipop kids" and picture the scene from the film.
Finally around mile 10 I got ahead of them and there was no turning back. It was also around mile 10 that it hit me "Crap, I'm running 13.1 miles". I knew I was, I hadn't stopped yet, I had run the whole time. I kept running and around mile 10.75 I got a pain in my left knee cap. Not my knee, but my knee cap. I kept running. I knew how much further I had to where I thought the finish was because I had just run that part of the course a few weeks prior.
I saw the finish chute ... which was just up a hill. A hill. A HILL in the last 1/2 mile. At that point and time all I could think was "Fine, whatever". As I got closer to the end I saw Matt and Kristine cheering me on! Right after them was my mom!
I finished. I finished 16 minutes faster than the Chicago Half Marathon two months prior, and 8 minutes faster than any other Half Marathon. I had a new PR!
I was done. I was so done with that race, the course, the people, the weather. All of it. I had done it. I ran the entire time. I oddly felt satisfied, happy. I had completed my fourth half marathon ever, much less in one year.
I looked back later at my splits. 10:27/10:42/10:55/12:04/11:51/12:20/12:08/13:09/13:05/13:27/13:07/14:17/13:48.
I'm a runner. I'm not a consistent runner. Well if you factor in that I consistently come out too fast and consistently around mile 8 of every half marathon I get hip pain; I'm consistent there. I'm not upset. I could make excuses and wonder what if I had stayed with the girls I met up with near the beginning. What if I stayed with the pace group. What if I hadn't gotten stuck continuously behind the Lollipop Guild. What if my hip hadn't started to hurt, or my knee. What if there hadn't been a hill in that last 1/2 mile. What if it had just been 5 degrees warmer, or if the sun had been out.
None of it matters. Maybe that's the wrong attitude, I don't know. What I do know is that I'm a 4-time half marathoner with a new PR. And that's what matters. Well, that and following my own Yellow Brick Road.
I filled in for someone and ran the Schaumburg Half Marathon and Turkey Trot the weekend after Thanksgiving. It seems like a lifetime ago, or at least almost three weeks ago. In part because it's almost been that long. Life has been busy and wrapping my head around this race has been a little weird.
My mom ran the 5k Turkey Trot, so early in the morning my parents with my godparents in tow came to pick me up and we headed to the event. I ran a 5k on January 1, 2015 and it was warmer that day than it was on November 28, 2015. Since my mom was running the 5k which began prior to the Half Marathon we got to the event early and was outside for a while. The grass was wet, there were puddles, there was wind, and there was no sun.
My mom has been to several of my races, as well as raced herself. My godmother came to my first triathlon. My dad and godfather had never been to a race. This aspect in and of itself was relatively hilarious and entertaining. I got a cowbell while I was at the Chicago Marathon and I put my dad in charge of it. He really didn't believe me that people live for the cowbell to be rung and it's a serious job. He learned early on as we waited for my mom to go by the 1.25 mile mark of the 5k.
After my mom ran by us I had to line up for the half marathon. I lined up near the back at the 11:00/mile pace group. I know what I can and cannot do, and setting myself up for failure from the beginning is idiotic. The start was pretty bizarre. It's what I would call a funnel start. The mass of people I found myself in and myself had to trickle through a small gate; it took a bit just to get going after that.
I started out strong. I felt good. I was moving right along. I found myself right along with the 10:40 pace leaders. I could do this, I was doing this. I zoomed by my cowbell ringing group with a smile on my face and waving hands. I felt great for the first three miles, I passed the 10:40 pace leaders. It was with timid decision I did such. I knew I couldn't keep at the pace I was, but I was getting stuck in pockets of people. The trail/run itself was pretty weird. It was mostly on a path that was directional, so eventually runners would be on the other side on their way back when I presumably was on my way out.
I found myself running with two women running together. I was keeping pace with them and felt great still. They went on ahead and I had a moment of confusion. Do I keep with them because I felt good? What if they went faster than me after we got out of the pocket of people? Then I'd not have them. I'd be on my own. I might as well run on my own. I ran on my own. It took just those few moments of thought to find myself from pacing less than 11;00/mile to over 12:00/mile. I'll never know what I could have done had I stayed with them as long as I could.
I continued on and as I expected as I was still on my way to mile 5 people were well on their way back. It happens. I'm not the fastest runner, but I run.
Something happened during this race that had not happened before during any race of mine. I had drank extra water the day before so I wouldn't dehydrate. Unfortunately it wasn't hot. I had to stop at mile 5.5 at a portapotty and pee. It was quick. I went back and forth trying to decide if I had to go or not. Good thing I stopped because there was not another opportunity along the way if I remember correctly.
I was still on my way out and a friend from the gym passed me on this way back in. I run-texted Kristine to tell her that Jason looked great and was ahead of me. My split for the halfway point was 1:10:27.7. I had run 6.2 miles in 70 minutes. For me that's not bad. Not bad at all. And my mental running math told me that I was on pace for my fastest half marathon yet.
The course was something else. There I said it. I'm not a snob, but the day before the race we were notified the course was rerouted. At one point and time we had to run off a path through muddy, wet forest preserve grass.
Something happened around mile 8, my right hip started to hurt. It was also around mile 8 I met a group of three women. I eventually began to call them the Lollipop Guild in my head. Anyone who runs is a runner. These women were dressed in bright colors; one in green, one in blue, one in red. I give them credit, they were without a doubt at least in their 50's and probably pushing late 50's if not later. But they were running. Now granted they would only run for a minute at a time taking up the entire pathway, but for that minute they bolted. The next three minutes they'd leisurely walk taking up the entire pathway.
I spent the next 3 miles jockeying back and forth with them. I'd pass them, having to run off the path to get along their taking up the entire pathway walking or their occasional stopping to stretch and do yoga poses. Then their one minute run would come and lightening fast they'd zoom by.
THIS.WAS.ANNOYING. I had to remind myself "Anyone who runs is a runner." I got annoyed with them. The only way I could get through it was to call them the Lollipop Guild. They weren't whimsical like The Wizard of Oz, but they were however dressed in the colors of the three main Lollipop Guild Members which then made me think of when I saw The Wizard of Oz on the big screen and the last living Munchkins were there. Basically I found my happy place with these women. Each time I'd pass them I'd start humming "We represent the lollipop kids, the lollipop kids, the lollipop kids" and picture the scene from the film.
Finally around mile 10 I got ahead of them and there was no turning back. It was also around mile 10 that it hit me "Crap, I'm running 13.1 miles". I knew I was, I hadn't stopped yet, I had run the whole time. I kept running and around mile 10.75 I got a pain in my left knee cap. Not my knee, but my knee cap. I kept running. I knew how much further I had to where I thought the finish was because I had just run that part of the course a few weeks prior.
I saw the finish chute ... which was just up a hill. A hill. A HILL in the last 1/2 mile. At that point and time all I could think was "Fine, whatever". As I got closer to the end I saw Matt and Kristine cheering me on! Right after them was my mom!
I finished. I finished 16 minutes faster than the Chicago Half Marathon two months prior, and 8 minutes faster than any other Half Marathon. I had a new PR!
I was done. I was so done with that race, the course, the people, the weather. All of it. I had done it. I ran the entire time. I oddly felt satisfied, happy. I had completed my fourth half marathon ever, much less in one year.
I looked back later at my splits. 10:27/10:42/10:55/12:04/11:51/12:20/12:08/13:09/13:05/13:27/13:07/14:17/13:48.
I'm a runner. I'm not a consistent runner. Well if you factor in that I consistently come out too fast and consistently around mile 8 of every half marathon I get hip pain; I'm consistent there. I'm not upset. I could make excuses and wonder what if I had stayed with the girls I met up with near the beginning. What if I stayed with the pace group. What if I hadn't gotten stuck continuously behind the Lollipop Guild. What if my hip hadn't started to hurt, or my knee. What if there hadn't been a hill in that last 1/2 mile. What if it had just been 5 degrees warmer, or if the sun had been out.
None of it matters. Maybe that's the wrong attitude, I don't know. What I do know is that I'm a 4-time half marathoner with a new PR. And that's what matters. Well, that and following my own Yellow Brick Road.
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