The longest run I had done was 9 miles. But it was 9 miles in the Chicago winter, bundled up, and usually rather cloudy. This was going to be 13.1 miles in the New Orleans sun and humidity. I was more than slightly apprehensive. Based on how my training runs had been going, I was pretty sure I would be able to pull of a 2 hour time. I had only ever done that last year in training for IMFL, and never during a 70.3, but I was fairly certain that in a stand-alone half, I was capable. But again, weather was weighing on my mind. Shocking that a triathlete would be obsessed with the weather, I know!
I arrived in Atlanta, GA, and then got a ride down to Columbus, GA on the Friday before. It was pretty great to get to see my S.O. again (long distance is super, super dumb in case you didn't realize). I'm not sure what we were more excited about, our first race together, our first vacation together, or just being together again for 5 whole days! Four of us made the six hour car ride to New Orleans on Saturday, checked in, continued eating all the food, and then it was off to bed early to get ready for the big day on Sunday.
Unlike typical me, I actually slept surprisingly well. I rarely sleep well to begin with, and a night before a race? Forget it. But call it the calm of the S.O., the joy of being on vacation, or the yummy seafood digesting in my tummy, woke up refreshed and ready to run. My knees and hips were feeling remarkably loose as well, especially considering sitting in a car for so long the previous day. We made our way to the start line, did the pre-race rituals, then said our brief goodbyes as we split to our separate corrals. (As an aside, I probably should have moved back to start with him, but he was so incredibly supportive about my goal time and wanting me to run my own race--truly a unique experience to have such unconditional support!).
The gun went off and I was on my way! My watch buzzes every half mile and at first buzz, I was a t 4:19. Way too fast! I knew I wasn't going to be able to sustain that. But I felt good, so I didn't want to overthink things too much. Backed off a little bit, and half mile after half mile ticked away. And so did aid station after aid station. I was thrilled to get to the first one and get some water. The humidity was really starting to get to me after only 1.8 miles. Uh oh. Second aid station was supposed to have SIS (some sort of sport gu electrolyte thing), but the boxes were empty. NO!! I was worried. I didn't have any nutrition of my own as I hadn't really started training with anything yet, so I was really relying on that. Deep breaths. It was only 3.5 miles in (or something like that--I can't actually remember the exact distance). I had run way longer on way more dehydration. And I still felt good, so keep on keeping on. My half mile times were slowly ticking faster until I was evening out at a solid 4:25 pace. Unfortunately, I was doing math the whole damn time. "If I go this fast, I can make this time, but if I blow up, then I will only do this, and blah blah blah blah blah." Instead of shut up legs, it was shut up brain!
Halfway through. The SIS gu!! Next aid station had it and holy crap I was so excited to squeeze shitty fake chocolate flavored gu into my gullet. It was the bolt of sugar (and whatever else is theoretically in there) that I needed. I felt refreshed and ready to hammer out the last half. Buzzes were still consistently coming every 4:25 and I was still hanging in there. Sun was getting hotter, humidity was getting stickier, but the wind was also picking up a little bit and cooling me off. So was the water I was dumping over my head at every chance I got. All of a sudden, I was at mile 9. How did that happen? Then it was mile 10. Wait, I only have a 5K left? That's it? Done. Easy. No problem.
And it wasn't! My times were getting faster. My legs felt spectacular. My lungs weren't pleased with my pace, but I was also telling them to shut up! Mile 12, last aid station. Woo! 1.1 miles to go. That's a walk in the park. I knew what I had left, so I started picking it up. Passing people like it was my job. Half mile to go, let's go even faster! Mile 13. All. Out. Sprint. Well, as much as a sprint happens at the end of a half marathon. But there it was, the finish line! I did it!!! With a spectacular time of 1:56.14. Beat my goal by 4 minutes!!! Oh the ecstasy. There was no ugly crying, thank God, just a lot of catching my breath and chugging water (don't worry, beer came later).
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| We're ridiculously goofy and adorable, I know. |
