I ran the half marathon in Pittsburgh on Sunday. It's something I've been talking about doing for a very long time, and now I can cross it off of my bucket list. Over all, I had a great experience. Let me start at the beginning of the weekend...
I knew a friend of mine from home was also running the race. We had talked about hooking up, but then decided that it would probably be just way too difficult given the enormous crowd. We decided to make an effort, but if we didn't see each other, then we wished each other the best of luck. On Saturday morning, I sent her a text message asking what she was planning to wear. She said that she was driving, so I waited a while and then called her. When I called, we realized that she was not far ahead of me on the drive, so she agreed to wait for me in the parking garage. We registered for the race and walked around the expo together. Patti had come to the city alone, so I invited her to my niece's birthday party in Wexford just for some company. In the process of our conversation, she told me that she didn't look for a hotel soon enough and was unable to find accommodations. She planned to sleep in her car in the parking garage! What?!? "There is no way you can spend the night in the city on the night of a big event in your car. That's not safe and you can't possibly run 13.1 miles after having slept all kinked up like that!" I said. To shorten a long story, she required much cajoling, but I was eventually able to convince her to come with me. She spent the evening with my family, had some good food, and was able to get a room in the same hotel that Greg and I stayed in. When it was all said and done, I was happy to spend the weekend with Patti. We had a lot of laughs together. The commaraderie was great, and I know that it put me at ease knowing I was with a Pittsburgh Marathon veteran. I wasn't nearly as worried about the ins and outs of the process, having her as my guide.
We settled in to our hotel rooms around 8, hoping to get a good night's sleep. Hahaha! I know. Why on earth would I think that
I would get a good night's sleep? I don't sleep on a normal night, let alone on the night before my first race ever, and a big race at that! At 1130, I was still awake. I feel into a light sleep sometime after midnight. I woke up every half hour or so, convinced myself that I must have slept a little, because I was having odd dreams, and then would pray for God to help me sleep just another 30 minutes. The last time I looked at the clock was 230 a.m. and our alarm went off at 3. If ever there was a day that I needed coffee, it was yesterday!
We gathered our things, ate a little breakfast and then headed to the city around 4. We were paranoid that parking would be outrageous. It turns out that we had more than enough time to get there and get settled. We could have easily left at 5 and still been comfortable with parking and timing. We wandered around the city for 2 hours before the race started. We looked for coffee...there was nothing open. So we sat on the wall of a hotel lobby and ate some peanut butter and bread and basically talked for 2 hours. We also hiked back and forth from our car to the convention center to downtown at least 3 times...I bet we logged about 3 or 4 miles of walking before the race even began! But I felt good, and Patti felt good. And Greg was a good sport about being our pack mule on no sleep.
Around 630, my friends Michelle and Pete called and met us downtown. They waited with me until the race began, and then stayed with Greg to watch me finish. Only true friends would get up and travel into the city at such an ungodly hour just to see someone run across the finish line, especially in the rain. What would I do without them!
The race began at 7. When I registered, I put myself at a slower pace than I actually ran, just to be conservative. Patti registered at a fast pace, so she and I split up at the starting line. You start in corrals that are based on your expected pace, so I was in the last corral, and didn't actually cross the start line until 7:13. But I had my trusty Garmin on my arm and was able to track my own time and keep my pace in check too. As the race began, I felt really good, but I was worried that I felt too good and would peter out towards the end. It was raining, and the streets were wet, so my feet quickly became soaked. I swear I was carrying around an extra pound of water in each shoe. I was also worried about having monumental blisters that would thwart my pace as the race went on. And of course I was worried about my not-so-trusty stomach. I wasn't able to go to the bathroom before the race began, and usually that is a recipe for disaster on a longer run. I was definitely worried that this run would give me the runs. I prayed that my adrenaline would keep me going. I prayed that I would not feel the blisters on my feet until the race was over, and above all, I prayed that I would not have to stop and use one of those God-awful port-o-potties along the way...at least not for my bowels.
God is good. My prayers were answered. I felt great for 90% of the race. Amazingly, I kept a pace around 10 min/mile for the majority of the time. Sometimes I was a little faster, sometimes a little slower, but my over all average was 10:16. That's faster than I have ever trained for on a long run. I am capable of an 8 minute mile, but only for one to two miles. I only go fast on short runs, just for training purposes. I prefer to run at a slower pace. Usually, on my longer runs, I purposefully run around a 10 minute mile to start, but by the end of the run (on an 11 mile run), I am running closer to 11 minutes per mile, sometimes even over that. I have never been speedy, but my endurance has always been decent. Yesterday I proved to myself that I can in fact be
speedier than I thought!
There were a few times along the way when I came across some mental hurdles. I'm not calling them "walls," because I truly did not have a single time during the race when I felt that I had to dig deep into myself to persevere. God was with me. My grandmother was with me. My friends and family channeled their energy into me, and I felt powerful. A friend of mine who runs marathons frequently and is a great inspiration to me, suggested that I break the run into thirds. She said, "run the first third with your head, don't go out too fast and focus; run the second third with your body - keep track of how you feel and make adjustments; and when your brain can't think anymore and your body is exhausted, you run that last third with your heart. You got this!" I thought about that several times throughout the race. I put my mind, my body and my heart into it, and it actually made covering the distance, in the rain, on practically no sleep, seem almost easy!
I think breaking the race into parts is a great idea. It makes it feel manageable. I actually broke the race into quarters in my mind as well. When I thought about 13.1 miles as a whole, it felt somewhat overwhelming. That's a long distance to cover. But when I thought about 4.25 miles, well, then it felt easy. 4 miles is a breeze. I can do 4 miles. And when I felt tired, I pulled out some other mind games. If I looked at my watch and it said I had run 7.29 miles, then I told myself to just run to the next half of a mile. If I still felt so tired, then I would allow myself to walk. I've done this on my training runs and I know it almost always works to my advantage. I would get to 7.5 and feel fine, and keep going. Or I would forget to look at my watch, and when I would look it would be 7.62. Being the anal-retentive, type-A personality that I am, I could never stop and walk at such an uneven interval as 7.62, so I would
have to run until at least 7.75, and by then, I would have made it over the hurdle.
Someone else told me that instead of walking when I felt tired, to run faster. It sounds absolutely crazy to run faster when you are tired and have already run 10 miles, but it works. Longer run tax your muscles and your mind, and short bursts of energy can give you the adrenaline jolt that you need to keep on going. I used this tactic several times. I think the energy bursts helped tremendously, but I also think the confidence boost of passing people helped as well. I would think, "I'm faster than her! I can do it!"
I had been texting Greg and Michelle in quarters along the way, letting them know how far I had gone, and that I hadn't walked at all. They texted back with encouragement, and knowing that I had told them of my progress made me feel accountable for the remainder of my run progression. By the time I got to the 11 mile mark, I knew that no matter how tired I felt there was absolutely no way in hell I could walk. Pride kicked in and I pushed through. 2 miles is nothing. I can run two miles in my sleep. No matter how tired I felt, I knew that I didn't need to walk at that point.
At about 12.25 miles, I was running a stretch that was relatively uncrowded. No energy to pull from the other racers. I was focused on the finish line and feeling a little worn when I heard my name being yelled from the side of the road. There was another friend of mine from college with her husband and kids! I ran to them, got high fives and heard her yell, "We're so proud of you!" It actually choked me up a little. I really didn't expect anyone to come to see me when I signed up for the race, and having two sets of friends as well as my husband there was a great surprise. I instead of wasting energy on weeping, I channeled it into that last mile. I ran the last mile at a 9:22 pace! I zipped over the bridge, around the corner and saw Greg, Michelle and Pete standing near the finish line, yelling at me as I ran by. I finished the race in 2 hours and 15 minutes and felt damn good!
I met up with Greg, Pete and Michelle behind the finish line, I got hugs, drank my coconut water and ate a banana as we walked back to the car. The walk back to the car took almost an hour because of my stomach. God or adrenaline, or whatever, kept my bowels under check during the race, but shortly after finishing, I needed a bathroom. We stopped at the first set of port-o-potties. In the past, one visit to the restroom has usually been enough. There have been times I needed two or more, but that's not the norm. Yesterday, my body had another idea all together. I stopped at that first port-o-potty, then about 10 minutes later I had to stop at a bar/restaurant that was open. I then said thanks and goodbye to Michelle and Pete and Greg and I walked back to the parking garage, about a mile from the finish line. On the way to the car, my stomach started rumbling again. I used the bathroom at the hotel by the parking garage before we got on the road. On the way to my sister's house in Cranberry, I made Greg stop at Burger King so I could go again. By then, I was feeling rather sick all over, actually.
We got to Megan's house and I used the bathroom before my shower, after my shower and one other time before we left, all in a span of about 45 minutes. I had Greg take Andrew in his truck, and I drove home alone. That way, if Andrew fell asleep, he wouldn't be disturbed by my possibly frequent stopping. I didn't even make it five minutes from Megan's house and I had to stop again. When I stopped at the McDonald's in Cranberry, I was really feeling ill all over. I felt weak, nauseated and crampy. When I used the restroom, the toilet was full of blood. I mean, scary full of blood. I have never seen anything like that, even on my worst menstrual period. I was a little worried at that point. Greg had gone ahead of me. I was alone, feeling very sick and my colon was bleeding! Then I blew a gasket in my car and it started making this extremely loud, ghetto rumbling. Oh boy, this could be a long ride home...I prayed that I didn't end up broken down on the turnpike somewhere, bleeding internally, just waiting for some good Samaritan to rescue me! Don't worry, that didn't happen. The car was fine (loud, but fine) and I was OK too...
I thought about my situation and remembered that after the race, I had just been talking to Michelle and Pete about exercised induced nausea. I had told them that the best thing you can do when you are feeling that over-exerted stomach, is eat - even thought that's the last thing you want to do. I forced myself to eat a bag of pretzels and drink a bottle of water. I felt like I was going to heave with each bite. I could barely make myself chew and swallow, but within about 25 minutes, I started to feel better. I should have known better and eaten more when I first started feeling ill. Had I been at home, I would have eaten more. But I was out in public, and then at my sisters, and I really didn't want to risk getting sick anywhere other than home. I have a pretty strict policy against pooping in public. Well, it was broken over and over yesterday!
As time passed, I did feel better. Not great, but better. Further down the road, I ate an energy bar and drank another bottle of water, and although I needed to stop one more time to use the bathroom, it was less bloody. All evening I continued to be very aware of my gut, but I remained stable. Next time I run that far, I will eat more afterwards, regardless of what my body is saying. I know better.
OK, now that you are totally grossed out by my post-run bowel account, let's change the subject and end this with a few thoughts I had during the race:
1. A lot of people have some very unusual running techniques. I'm not just talking about the oh-so-common heel strike. I saw people who moved their arms all over the place, people who kicked their feet practically all the way up to their butts, people who barely lifted their feet off the ground, people who kept their feet so close together I'm not sure how they were actually moving, and people who kicked their feet out to the sides at unhuman angles at the knees. I saw people hunched over, and people dressed in all kinds of wacky outfits. There was even a man in a prison suit who ran the entire race with his ankles shackled. I hope I never become one of these people. I want good form, for the health of my body, and I hope to remain normal in my dress. Running, for me, is not about getting attention from on-lookers. It's about pushing myself, finding my own groove, and reaching my own inner peace. I don't need flare to do that.
2. Large groups of people huddled together can create some awful smells, especially when it's muggy and wet.
3. On the same note, you should shower at least the night before a race, so that you don't stink up the whole street when you start sweating during a race. And don't eat garlic at least a few days before the race. I'm a garlic lover, and I'm sure I stink from time to time. I know it's great for your health and it tastes fantastic, but holy cow! Oozing garlic in a huge crowd on race day is not cool! Stick to some milder spices, please!
4. I was shocked by rudeness of some people at the water stations. Most of the runners were courteous to the volunteers and to other runners, but there were a few who pushed. Don't do that. We are all in the same boat. Be nice.
5. And speaking of water stations, why on earth do people feel the need to throw their cups on the ground! I don't mean one or two cups, I mean hundreds and hundreds of cups! I even saw many people throwing cups on the ground directly in front of the garbage boxes they had out! That's just so unnecessary. If you slow down to toss your cup, it would cost, what, a few seconds of your time? I'm not in it to win the race. Perhaps if we are talking about the winners, those few seconds would make an overall difference, but for the majority of racers, it doesn't. Those volunteers worked so hard, were so nice and so encouraging - I didn't encounter anyone who was short or snippy in the slightest - the least you can do is not litter the streets with cups, ponchos, etc that you just decided you didn't want and threw down along the way. In the picture Greg took of me at the end of the race, I am actually waving with a cup. I carried it across the finish line, because I didn't see an easy access garbage can after I took the water. It's paper. It wasn't heavy. It didn't slow me down. I could not bring myself to carelessly throw garbage on the street. Making messes is just not my style!
6. I was surprised at the number of spectators and supporters during the race, especially given the weather. There were all kinds of individuals, groups of people, people handing out candy, giving high fives to strangers, cheering everyone on. It was really nice and the encouragement was notable. Thanks to everyone who came out!
In the end, I would say that the half marathon was a good experience. I surprised myself with my time and I felt good. I came away with a few blisters, some nasty chafing from my bra, a very distressed colon, and a renewed confidence in my abilities as a runner. Is it simply another item crossed off of my bucket list or will I do it again? Well, we'll see.
