(Which is you guys. You're my troops, didn't I tell you?)
Alright! So. This is going to be a long one, better settle in. The half I ran was the Rock 'n' Roll Virginia Beach half marathon, which took place on September 5th. I, my co-runner H, and our Official Spectator E all made a weekend of it, going down on Friday afternoon and returning on Monday. When we got there Friday night we took a trip down to the beachfront (our hotel was actually about 20 min inland) to get dinner and drinks and check out the sights. Virgina Beach has an awesome boardwalk that I greatly enjoyed, and which makes up the last mile of the race. Friday night there was a concert near the boardwalk and some booths nearby where people were selling things. We had a delightful conversation with some young men who were selling hot dogs and pickles "that will change your life." Unfortunately (?), no part of that last sentence was a euphemism. We also found a tent where some people were selling air-brushed tattoos. My friend E wanted one, so I took the opportunity to get something intimidating air-brushed on me for good luck.
The hirsute arm to the left is mine, and my tat is (naturally) a hot pink T-Rex. I'm not sure if you can tell, but there's also glitter on it. One of the girls gave it a name, but I can't remember what it was, so let's just assume it was Clancy. Clancy graciously stuck around through Sunday, and I did indeed look to him for inspiration at some point late in the race.
Saturday morning we got up and went to the Health & Fitness Expo. Apparently, most big races have Expos beforehand where the runners can go pick up their bibs, timing chips, and free t-shirts. There's also, of course, a bunch of booths set up selling running paraphernalia. I didn't end up buying anything, but that's really only because I wanted one of EVERYTHING and I couldn't decide what to spend my money on. (This is how most shopping trips go for me, actually.) Walking into the Expo, I had to fight back tears, and I still can't really explain why. Maybe it's because of the cheerleaders they had lined up to cheer for everyone as they walked in (!!), or because it was the first time the whole thing felt really real to me, or maybe it's just because I was walking around with this gigantic, diverse group of people and they were all Runners and I was a Runner too, as far as they were all concerned. Whatever the reason, I got a little emotional, like I do. But once the tears dried, I could more clearly see all the sweet perks. Free granola bars! A card for 10% off at P.F. Chang's, good for a year! Temporary tattoos from Dodge, for some reason! (They were a race sponsor, not that that really explains the tattoos.) My favorite piece of (not free) merchandise at the Expo was a car magnet that said, "In my dreams, I am a Kenyan." That pretty much sums it up, right there.
Sometime Saturday night was when I started panicking about the race. I wasn't ready, I didn't have my stuff together, I couldn't remember how to run. We were going to get lost on our way there, or be late, and miss the start. It all seemed very serious. I picked a fight with my race partner and everyone went to bed in an uneasy mood.
When race day dawned, however, we were all so excited (and punch-drunk from lack of sleep) that we forgot our anxiety in favor of stumbling around in the dark and laughing at things that weren't particularly funny. We got up at about 4:45 and suited up, and then there were bananas and bagels to eat and coffee to drink and who knows what else. Because our hotel was so far away from the beachfront, we had to drive to the amphitheater to park and catch shuttles to the start line. The shuttle ride itself was 20 minutes, and we were (I was) worried about getting to the start line by the time the gun went off at 7. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, until we got within a mile of the amphitheater, at which point it became apparent that everyone in Virgina Beach was there, as well as some people from neighboring counties who came out JUST TO GET IN MY WAY. Even once we had finally parked, there was a long line for the shuttles, where we had to wait for about 15 minutes while I vibrated with anxiety.
When we finally arrived at the start line, we still had to use the porta-potties, which of course had lines of their own. The first waves of people were already taking off as H and I sprinted to get in line to pee. Luckily, however, there were about 20,000 people running the race that day and they were arranged in corrals in order of their projected finish time. Which is to say that even though the race "started" at 7am, H's and my corral didn't cross the start line til more like 7:30. Here's some of those 20,000 people:
And here's the start line!!:
When we first started, I honestly wondered if I'd be able to remember how to run. I hadn't run since Thursday (3 days before), and I was so anxiously hyper-aware of my body that everything felt weird. Did my ankle always bend in that way? Did my foot always hit the ground at that funny angle? And what is it I'm supposed to do with my hands, again? After about a mile, though, everything sort of evened out. The Rock 'n' Roll races have bands and cheer squads set up every few miles, and right before the first turn there was a band playing Flight of the Conchords' "Business Time," except they had changed it to "Running Time." It was definitely one of the highlights of the race, and it was stuck in my head for days.Going into the race, my friend H and I had tried to figure out a strategy that would balance my misguided NEED FOR SPEED with her bum hip which had been bothering her for the past month. We decided that we'd try to confine our walk breaks to the water stations (which were set up about every 1.5 miles). In training, I had usually only walked a minute a two for each mile, so I thought it was do-able. For the first few miles we were zooming along at a pace a little faster than our goal pace, but we had to run up a hill early on that apparently made H's hips flare up, and after that things got rough for awhile. We had a goal of finishing in less than 3 hours, but H started stopping for walk breaks more and more often, and sometime during the 6th mile I realized that there was no way we were going to make our goal at the rate we were going. I explained the situation to H and she tried to rally, but it wasn't going to happen. She kept telling me to go on without her, but I didn't want to because I was afraid she was going to give up. Finally, I made her promise to at least run some if she could, and then we hugged and high-fived and I took off to try to make up some time.
During miles 7 and 8, I was running at a pace much faster than I had planned, trying to get back on track. I felt OK though, so I didn't let up until I had 8 miles behind me and I was sure that I could finish on time. After that, I took a break to walk and eat the free packet of Gu some volunteers had handed me about half a mile back. During the race I carried a little bottle of water to drink from between water stations, so at each station I would drink a small cup or two of water and then take another cup or two to refill my bottle. Apparently at some point during my snack break, juggling the water bottle and the Gu packet and keeping my feet moving became too much for me, because about 10 min later I looked down and there was sticky blackberry-flavored gel dripped all across the front of my running shorts. Sexy! Something about running by myself, covered in Gu, while my friend struggled along somewhere behind me struck me as both hilarious and sad, all at once.
Of course the bright side is that when you're running for hours on end, the scenery is always changing, so I didn't have a lot of time to dwell on my berry-scented shorts. Overall, the route was really pleasant, as were the bands and the cheering crowds. The only part that dragged a little was the few miles in the middle that went through the naval base. At that point, there weren't a lot of trees for shade, and there weren't a lot of spectators either, so you were sort of on your own for motivation. As the race went on and I started to get tired, though, everything sort of faded into the background. After 10 miles, every step I took was officially The Farthest I Had Ever Run. From mile 10 to mile 11.5 or so, all I could think about was making it to the water station that was supposedly set up around mile 11.3. I say supposedly because it was definitely about a quarter-mile farther down the road than that, and at that point in the race a quarter mile was about 2 miles too far. I finally gave up and started walking early, only to see it in the distance about 30 seconds later. I ran again to mile 12, where I walked for a minute or two and gave myself a pep talk. It went something along the lines of, "You have to run now, and you have to run for a mile, and you can't stop until you're on the other side of the finish line. Don't be a loser, OK ready set go!" And then I ran.
The last mile is along the boardwalk, which you turn onto just past the 12-mile marker. As soon as I was by the beach there was a nice strong breeze in my face, which I think really helped sustain me through the end. My feet were so beaten up at that point that they were just kind of numb, and it felt like they were coated with concrete. I had that all-over tingly feeling that I get when I've pushed myself to the limits of my endurance, and even though my stomach wasn't exactly growling I had the distinct impression that food would be necessary soon. I was running as hard as I thought I could (and still maintain it for another mile), but I felt so worn out I was sure I must be going incredibly slowly. And yet... I looked at my watch and I was going a full minute per mile faster than my goal pace! All of the myths about race day adrenaline were true! After I got done being excited about how quickly I was going, I realized I was going to have to maintain that pace until the end and I became a little alarmed. Although it felt like the loooooongest mile of my life, I persevered, mostly because I started mentally listing people I was running "for." When I ran out of people to dedicate the last mile to, I moved on to abstract concepts, like social justice and H's hips. THEN I started listing things I wouldn't stop running for, as a way to convince myself that I was more dedicated to finishing the race than I was to money and happiness. Things that wouldn't have made me stop running included: a free PhD, a billion dollars, a brand-new dream home, a bear covered in razor wire, a threat on my family's life, and who knows what else. Finally, 8 years later, I crossed the finish line, arms over my head, a determined look welded to my face.
Time: 2:52:30ish. Under my goal by 8 minutes. And I'm confident I would have been faster if it weren't for the rocky start.
After that, it's all kind of a blur. There was free beer on the beach, and cooling our feet in the ocean, and naps and showers and dinner at P.F. Chang's (10% off!). And of course, celebratory booze. And then the next morning, we got up and returned to the scene of our recent glory for bike riding along boardwalk and a little lounging by the ocean. It was the best Labor Day weekend ever.
Postscript about my running buddy: She finished about 15 min after me, sprinting across the finish line like a champ, and then we dragged her to the medical tent to ice her hip. She went to the doctor today and they told her she might have a stress fracture, so now she has to be on crutches until they can take a picture of her bones. Basically, if you haven't run 13 miles on a broken hip lately, you can't touch my girl H. ;)
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