The Dids and Didn'ts Of the Half

Immediately after yesterday's Half, I said to Aaron and the Crew, "I have no idea how that  just happened." I mean, I did, but I didn't. It was a wee bit surreal. I trained for that run, but I didn't know I trained for that run. Here's its story ...

Pre-Race: For once, the entire family had a great sleep the night before a Half. Usually, I'm tossing and turning fearing the alarm isn't going to go off. Often, at least one other Crewer is also restless. Not this time -- even though 5:50 a.m. comes early on a race morning, everyone seemed pretty ready to go!

We were at the starting corrals well before the suggested 6:40 a.m. time. Things were already hopping:

Okay, things were hopping on the other side of the street and
not yet in the corrals, but whatever.

My biggest fan and I before I got my stink on.

Veterans of the spectator sport, the Crew and I soon parted ways so they could get just the right spot to view and cheer!

This is always a bitter sweet moment for me. I love that they're
there to cheer, but I'm left without my friends to talk to!

This is the point where I go ahead and get in the corrals and work my mental magic keeping myself from being too antsy. It's like when you're totally ready to take a test and just want to get it overwith but the teacher is taking forever to take attendance and answer last-minute questions. The wait can be trying! I do things in the corrals like stretch (Yes, me. For real. I'm not even making it up.), listen in on others' conversations (totally), scope out others' shoes because there are so many pretty colors ...

But, are there any as pretty as mine?! And, look close ... my
friend Mary Kate sent me a running charm the same as her own
as a symbol of running together solidarity.
HOW COOL IS THAT?

... and, this time, kick off the money-finding bonanza:

Super-score!! A penny in the corral!! That's a sign of a healthy
harvest waiting to happen, right?!

The length of the corrals was long enough that we non-elite runners couldn't hear a thing of what was happening up front. We could hear the announcer but not what he was saying, and we certainly missed the National Anthem which was a shame because I love that moment.

Hellooooo up there!!

Finally, there was movement. Then it stopped.

Here we go! Oh, wait. Not really ... huh?!

I learned (from eavesdropping -- is it eavesdropping when you're not being secretive about it?) that we were being let out in two, separate waves. No one knew that which was okay for the runners because we knew we were starting at some point), but it was reportedly a little unnerving to the spectators thinking they missed their runner going by! My Crew was among that set of people but relieved when they saw our wave approach.

Having cracked the system code, Aaron got the start of our
wave. See me? That was a joke.

Of course, I always love seeing the Crew!

That's Aaron's yellow "Only 13.09 miles 2 go" sign on! He said
the second wave found it much funnier than the first. I told him
the first wave was more focused on running than on the crowd!

Away I go!

There I go, there I go, there I go again!

In mere moments, I rounded the course corner, and the whole run changed for me. Here are the did-and-didn'ts of this run!

Mile 1: It was here I saw my first penny on the run!! WaHOO!! But, it was also here rounding the congested corner that I knew if I tried to snag that penny, as skilled as I am in the stoop and snag technique, I was going to cause major problems for many. I stepped away from the penny no matter how much it hurt!

Mile marker: I did see money. I didn't pick it up.

Mile 2: I fondly remembered this mile from last year as it's where I saw my first pennies! It's also a nice, flat-to-downhill-ish easy mile. Those stick with you. Anyway, I saw another penny along this mile, but it was again way too congested for me to do anything about it. This was weird. It's usually more thinned out for me in the second mile, but there were people all around with very little elbow room. I was wondering why were all of those people were right there when I happened to look to my right, and I understood. I was right behind a pacer.

Um, what ? For me, pacers have been more like elusive creatures that people claim exist, but I've never seen them live and in person as they relate to me. I've come close depending on the cut-off increments, but they've not been a part of my experience. And, here I was comfortably with this group. It wasn't even the last pace increment. I was definitely in foreign territory. And, that's when my mind started the race: If I stayed with her, was I pushing myself too hard to where I'd run out of gas way too soon? Should I drop back to conserve energy? Should I just keep going and see what happens? Crap! I suddenly had to think and make decisions, and it was only the second mile !

The mental coaching doesn't usually start until after Mile 6! I was not counting on this ... but, I was suddenly kind of excited about it! You might remember last week I realized, if all things lined up, I could probably cut 30 seconds per mile off of my Half time. The pacer, though, was at a full minute under what I typically run, and that's a big difference. But, I didn't want it to scare me, so I decided to ignore her for a few moments and listen to my body. I did a mental scan, all systems were not only firing but felt extremely comfortable, so I set a goal on the spot to see if I could keep her until Mile 6. If I could do that, that would be a big accomplishment in and of itself. If I needed to drop back, that would be fine, too.

It was in this mile, too, after seeing another penny that I had to leave behind (drat!) that I decided to mentally tally what I find, and put it in the stash for the Food Bank anyway. That seemed safest for myself and these strangers who would trample me ... probably on purpose once they realized I'm actually getting in their way for a penny!

Mile marker: I did decide to trust what I knew about myself over anything I could decide to fear. I didn't put myself down and decide I somehow didn't belong with this group because, evidently, it was possible I did.

Mile 3: Along the route, there are organized cheer squads, and this mile has a doozy of one. They really get into it. They're not always family friendly, but they have a good time:

Miles 4 and 5: I was still with the pacer here and, you'll be shocked to know, I was listening in on her conversations with different people. I'm always interested in why people do what they do, running included, so this definitely made the time go by without my stressing about going too fast.

I also watched the pacer as she chose Mile 5 to ingest a gel for energy. I had not yet planned to eat any of the Jelly Belly sport beans I had with me, but I thought if now's a good time for her, then maybe I should go ahead especially when I was burning energy faster than I'd expected. Seems reasonable, right? Yeah, well, monkey-see-monkey-do, people, I paid a price for that one! I know way better than to have one of those (or my grapes) without having water to make sure it washes down. No sooner did I bit into one than I realized I'd just passed a water station. Not wanting it to stick to my teeth, I figured it best to swallow as-was.

Question: Do you know how big a Jelly Belly sport bean gets after one molar bite and how readily that will stick in the back of your throat? I do, and I don't suggest it. All turned out fine, but it was a mental (and, frankly, physical) struggle I did not need!

Mile marker: I did get my mental game back to my own. I didn't pick up the dime I saw along the way. (a dime!!)

Miles 6 through 8: I was looking forward to this stretch because I was very much looking forward to it being behind me. This is the stretch dubbed Holy Hill. Two miles. Up hill. Well, there is a dip at about 6 1/2 but, in fairness to all who ran it, we also actually started going up hill around mile 5 1/2. So, in total, it worked out to two miles of pain. I was truly mentally ready for it especially when I already knew I could do it from last year, but the hype of the contest really brought out the drama in many around me. I guarantee a duo of women next to me lost all kinds of time and energy just complaining about it. I got away from them because it's not that I didn't agree, I just didn't want to go there in my head! It's hard enough, let's not focus on the pain!

But, look at the pretty colors ...!

We were even timed to determine age-group winners for just this hill. The winners received a medal and huge chocolate bar. As my own prize, the fam bought fudge that was waiting for me to enjoy no matter how that hill went!

Take that, Holy Hill! Booyah!

It is on this stretch that I get to see the Crewers on the route. I always love seeing them en route even when I don't muster a loving expression (like this time) to show them what I'm feeling. I was getting pretty hot as we started the race 15 degrees warmer than any of my training runs this year, and I was determined to figure out just what I was able to get out of this run physically. Both of those factors had me in a mental zone that I feared breaking before heading up this hill. I hated not being very social at that moment, but I knew they'd understand.

Right after seeing the Crew, I realized I lost the pacer.

And, then, I realized she was behind me.

Holy Hill? Holy crap ! I trained to run, but I was pretty certain I didn't train for this  run!

Mile marker: I did just what I did last year on this hill -- right around Mile 7, I thought to myself, "Um, this isn't really that fun. Why am I doing this at all?" I didn't give in to the sentiment, though, and I immediately dimissed it.

Mile 9: One of the jedi mind tricks I like to use is to not look for mile markers in the miles 7-9 zone. Therefore, if I miss one, it makes seeing the next one feel like things went faster. It totally works for me. I knew we had to have passed the 9th mile when a man ran up alongside me and said, "You know, they've done a terrible job posting the mile markers this year." I totally disagreed with him having seen all of them to this point, but I decided to give him an affirmative, "Uh, huh," because I didn't want to debate someone who was clearly more irritated about not seeing them than I was stoked missing this one. Then, the same dude started in on the lack of photographers on the course. He told me all about how GO! changed picture companies from last year (um, 'got the email, dude) and how there were more obvious photographers on the route last year and how those photographers were positioned creatively for really cool shots. I didn't tell him that I had first-hand knowledge of what he was spewing, nor did I debate the merits of these very expensive pics (we're all extra lovely when caught off guard after running 10 miles in the heat, just sayin'). Instead, I looked straight ahead where we saw three photographers in bright, yellow shirts standing on platforms in the middle of the course taking the very pics about which this man was complaining. I said, "Ask, and ye shall receive!" thinking he would laugh. Instead, man started lecturing me about how they weren't in as good of position as last year ...

I don't know what all he said from there. I glazed over, phased him out and, evidently, looked disinterested enough for him to know his audience was no longer captive. Off he ran to his next sounding board.

Mile marker: I did retain my manners. I didn't tell this guy to just shut it and run like I wanted to.

Mile 10: I love Mile 10. It's where I call Aaron to let him know that's where I am so the Crew can meander to the finish line. It's also where I remind myself, "Just a 5K to go." This stretch also provided me with a funny. There were two older teens running together, and right when we passed the mile marker, one started walking and dramatically bellowing, "Make it stop! Don't make me go any more ! Please let me sto-oooop !" I get you probably had to be there, but, trust me, it was good stuff.

Mile 11: This is the mile last year where I started questioning my ability. It's also the mile where I took my first walk break during a Half Marathon, and while I was resigned to it, I wasn't too thrilled about it. This year, the same up hill that zapped me last year seemed like not much of anything this time around. But, I was getting tired. I walked through the water station and felt smart about doing so. Gatorade in the mouth, water over the head (did I mention it heated up?), and I was on my way.

In the middle of the mile, the pacer I'd passed caught up to me. And, that was more than okay.

Mile marker: I did admit to myself I was tired. I didn't mentally punish myself for feeling it.

Mile 12: OF COURSE I love Mile 12!! It's almost finished!! It's here the crowd starts yelling about how close you are, that's there's beer waiting at the end (clearly, they don't know me), that this is "the mile you've been training for," cheering you by name as they read your bib, etc. It's a good time. And, because we were cruising along, I found myself in a group who cared far more about their exact end times than I, so they were spouting out their expected times. With their data, I realized I could walk the rest of the route and still PR by a minute or two (a PR is a PR no matter how you slice it; that slice doesn't have to be big). That was an awesome feeling. All systems were firing well, and that's all I ever want regardless of actual time.

Mile marker: Knowing I was in PR position, I did want to just hang it up and walk the rest. But, I didn't.

Mile 13: There's nothing like being cheered in by those who love you. This might be my favorite pic of the event:

Moments after that picture, I passed the Crew and crossed the finish ... 10 minutes faster than my personal record from this past October. Ten. (It is also 17 minutes faster than I did this same course last year. That course-to-course comparison is pretty sweet.) I was barely absorbing the reality of things going that well while making sure my legs didn't totally spaghetti-out while taking a huge breath of I'm-not-running-anymore when I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. I turned to see a medic who sought me out to make sure I was okay. I immediately realized what he saw to make him reach out. Well, for starters, he saw this:

Less than a tenth to go ... I can't say I wasn't hurting, but I can't
say there was anything wrong with it, either!

The medic also saw someone pretty doggone thirsty, and the only thing I really wanted to do was get some water. I smiled (as best I could), assured him I was fine and that I just needed some water. Satisfied with my self-assessment, he went about his way. It was nice to know there were people looking out for us ... which was a completely different experience from the water station people! Check this out: I was seriously in water need (did I mention it was hot?), so when walking toward the table, I held up two fingers to the dude passing out the bottles assuming it was a universal symbol for, "Two, please." He handed me one and looked away. Um, 'scuse me ? I have never, ever been declined water at any race. In fact, it's always the opposite. There are understandable limits on the rest of the goods, but water ? I know I signed a waiver, but I did not agree to being declined water then accepting responsibility for it, just sayin'.

Not wanting to ask nor explain myself, I reached between him and another volunteer for another bottle. The other volunteer saw I already had one (oh, no!) and very snidely said, "Umm ... you're only supposed to have one, but I guess that's okay." Needless to say, I kept walking.

Right after the water stop was the medal distribution. I asked the lady handing them out if she would mind putting mine on me (because I had two water bottles to juggle after all ...). She said, "I'd be honored to do so!" I refrained from suggesting she go coach the folks at the water table about their manners.

Mile Marker: I did cross the finish line feeling awesome about myself. I didn't knock out the stingy, snippy water people.

The Crewers and I lost each other for a little bit at the finish which never happens, so it was kind of funny ... also nice this wasn't our first rodeo, therefore, we knew it would all work out. Once reunited, it was time for hugs ...

PC#3 will be the first to tell you mama was smelly ...

... and, kisses ...

Awwww ...

... and, smoothies!

Awesome!! Berry smoothies ...

... goodies for the peas in a pod!!

This run was a perpetual mental puzzle making it a whole new experience. And, that was awesome. That "hard work pays off" saying? Yeah, it's true. I still hold I didn't train for the race I just ran. But, I did do it, and I did it well!

Here's to another in the books! (Oh! And, the Food Bank bank has 16 more cents in it from this run! Wahoo!!) Thanks for hanging in there on this post -- sometimes, more miles = more words!! Tomorrow, we rundown the Expo!! Until then, I must share another fave in the picture file ... me and my biggest fan!