A Runner at Heart... or How I Rocked a Half Marathon

As if there was any doubt, I'm still a runner.

I suppose there was some doubt for me since I don't typically think of myself as a "runner" anymore, at least not in a defining sense, not the way I used to see it as an aspect of who I was, not just an activity but a hobby/sport/passion/obsession that literally helped define my self. And it's been a long time since that was true. Still not. In fact when I think of people who are "runners," I think of people who claim to love running, and do it often. I suppose I love running. Or like it. It's just... what feels natural, what feels like exertion and exercise to me... it's the treadmill that draws me in at the gym, though I'll mix it up and bike or walk or hike or do other activities, but nothing feels as complete as running.

I decided in January to train for a half marathon. My first. I needed something to work toward over the winter. Some good motivation.

Many many years ago (2005) when I was young and nimble and had time for training (age 23 and just finishing grad school (took one class my last term, had finished thesis and was teaching) then working a temp job in Santa Barbara for the summer)... I ran the Portland Marathon. And that was rough, mainly because I slacked on my training for a few months then tried to make it up in the end. On the other hand, my classmate Allison, while not at all a runner when we started training, stuck to the training plan religiously and though we started in March at very different paces and abilities, on race day in October we ran the first 20 or 21 miles stride for stride (a good example of the importance, and magic, of training!). I have no desire to do another marathon. One in a lifetime is fine with me. I limped for about a week afterward. Plus I don't like the length of the training runs. Running for three hours on a Sunday is not my idea of a good time.

But a half marathon seemed do-able. I signed up for the Eugene Half Marathon-- May 2nd, partially because I was just drawn to it and partially because some of my co-workers mentioned they might train for it. They did not. My training was... okay. I was still not fond of the 10mile or 12mile Sunday training long run. In fact, while training I'd decided that this would be the only half marathon and the longest I would even train for again. Maybe if I did anything else, I do 10k's (6.2 miles).

Best training story-- so Devin's sister Kate was also training for the Eugene Half. Two weekends before the race, when I was supposed to do my last long run (12 miles), I was going to be in Eugene just for Friday pm/Sat for 1- work meeting, 2- family bbq. So I thought it'd be fun to do the long run with Kate because at least I'd have some company, and she agreed. We ended up having to meet at 7am to run on Saturday though because Kate had something to do at 10am and I had a family bbq to get to later. Now drinking at all the night before when I was out with my co-workers was probably not a great idea but I kept it to two beers and felt relatively okay by the time I went to bed, which ended up being much later than I wanted because I was up talking with Elizabeth (my boss/friend). Then I spent a very uncomfortable tossing/turning anxious-about-getting-enough-sleep-so-I-could-handle-an-early-run-so-that-I-actually-couldn't-sleep night on Elizabeth's very hard futon. But Saturday morning I felt just dandy. Kate had mapped out a route around the river and it was a lovely sunny, cool day for a run. Kate and I actually got along pretty well.

Anyhow... a few miles into the run, we passed a bathroom near Skinner's Butte/rose garden and I thought hey, maybe I should stop and use the restroom. Nah, I don't want to hold us up and we just started. We continue running along the river trail and there are tons of runners, bikers, roller bladers, etc out. It's a wonderful day to be in Eugene. Well eventually I start to get cramps. Not women cramps, poop cramps. Running long distances tends to be a pretty strong laxative for me. Let's just say in the last mile of the marathon, I nearly had to stop to use the port-o-potty and really, really had to bear up to finishing without stopping. So it's pretty uncomfortable and at first feels like it's maybe just gas. Thankfully we are in motion so we're not sticking around where I'm passing some gas. And I'm working to do it silently because, while it's a common runner thing I'm sure, I'm not entirely comfortable with Kate nor do I know how she reacts and I don't want to make our run uncomfortable by rippin' one then feeling embarrassed. We keep running and cross the river over by Delta Ponds/Marist HS.

Oh geez, there are seriously no bathrooms anywhere near us in the last few miles or in what I remember of the next few miles. Holy crap (literally), I am seriously needing to find a place to poo. We make to Valley River Mall. No port-o-potties in sight. We pass all the motels/restaurants along the river. I strongly consider asking Kate if we can go inside and use their restroom. But I know we're on a short-time schedule and she needs to be done by a certain time and I'm not even sure how we're doing pace-wise, or how much longer we have at this point. Wow, why are there so many friggin' people on this damn path? So even if I tried ducking into the bushes, people are gonna see me. Plus the bushes/trees are not very dense so I will be quite visible. Plus I'm sure that's not legal to just take a dump in the middle of the city. Plus some of those bushes could be poison oak. UGH! Then it happens. I try to let out a little more gas... but it's not just gas... oh nice, well hopefully it's not showing through my pink running shorts (course I couldn't have worn black or something dark), maybe I could make up a story about sitting in some mud while I was waiting for Kate in the morning...
FINALLY we reach Alton Baker's duck pond and there's a bathroom. I can't even make it there running, I have to ask her to stop and walk because the cramps are too bad and I'm barely holding it in. We get to the bathroom and the stalls have no doors (awesome!) and Kate walks in first so she picks the farthest one from the door, meaning that when she's done, she'll walk right past my open stall where I'm trying to... umm... fix my problem... and quietly (not Austin Powers "who does Number Two work for" style) finish my business. Then she finishes, walks past, and just stands in the bathroom waiting for me. GO OUTSIDE and stretch or something! You don't need to wait in here within earshot! Geez when did I become so... self-conscious about bodily issues? Usually I don't really care. Hey, everyone poo's (isn't that a book?). But every so often, you don't want it that apparent that you're having a real issue. Anyhow, that was about the end of it except that when I got back to Elizabeth's house and all I wanted to do was shower and change my clothes, her daughter Sophia was insistent on showing me a million different books and videos on the computer, etc. That's nice, kiddo, but I've got bigger concerns at the moment.

That's the only nice thing about running on a treadmill at the gym, which I had to do for my other 12 mile training run -- quick access to the bathroom! Although on that training run (because it was SNOWING in April so I chose to run at the gym) I chose a treadmill with a tv so I could be more entertained while running for two hours but I couldn't figure out how to change the channel. I decided not to waste time asking for the trainer's help and just start my workout and get it over with, but the tv was stuck on the Soap Network, which was playing the end of a 90210 episode then back-to-back Gilmore Girls. I kept trying to figure out if it was worse to run just staring at the blank tv screen or to actually watch GG. Painful. More painful than the running for sure.

So my half marathon goals were pretty minimal:
1- don't crap my pants during the race
2- finish my training and the race injury-free (this really was my main goal, I had already decided early on that even though I'd paid the entry fee, if at any time I felt like I was pushing my body too much, into injury, I would back off, even if that meant not racing, it's just not worth it to push through the pain and risk not being able to run much later)
and loosely 3- finish in two hours
The latter goal I figured may be feasible since years before I finished a marathon in just under four hours. So half that distance. Plus the fact that I've aged five years and that I'm not training hard, just to finish. It would be about 9min/mile which is about what I was doing my training runs at.

So race day -- Sunday, May 2nd -- the race started at 7:00am at Hayward Field but there would likely be no parking so they provided shuttle buses to/from the Hilton and a few other locations. Amazing coordination for this race! I have to get up around 5:30am to eat a little yogurt, throw on my running clothes, chug a cup of cold coffee I'd bought the night before (probably my best idea), and drive down to catch the shuttle. Even though I got down there just after 6am and was afraid I wouldn't make it on the bus in time for the race start. There were 8,000 participants in the race apparently. Thankfully I make it there. Then, also impressive, they have a whole bag check area where you basically tie your bag shut with your bib number pinned to it and throw it in a huge truck. Then they cart it to the finish area and organize it so when I finish, I show my bib number and get my stuff. I tried to find Kate at the start, we'd said we'd meet near the four-hour marathon time marker, but I couldn't find her. Of course the start was Agate Street right next to Hayward field and the entire street width was packed with people pretty much shoulder-to-shoulder. I heard someone joke "nothing like a Sunday run with 8,000 of your closest friends!" Oh well, probably for the best because I wanted to run my own race and was sure I'd be faster than Kate and didn't want to make her feel rushed or leave her behind, etc.

Not sure if you can tell the route from this small map, or have any interest, but we went south down Agate to 24th St, over to Harris (past Richard's old apt), up to 18th, down Hilyard all the way to Amazon and down very far, started going up a hill but thankfully we turned to go back down about 1/4-1/2 up, whew!, back up Amazon past Amazon Park to 19th, up 19th (past our old apt), back up Agate to Franklin, down Franklin to Knickbocker Bridge where we split from the full marathon people, along the river path to the Autzen Footbridge, then finish at Hayward Field.

Self portrait before checking my camera:


At some point during the week prior to the race, I realized that I'd forgotten my watch at home. And I didn't feel the need to buy another one. After all goal #2 was just to finish at a pace that was right for my body. What better way to accomplish that than just to run at the speed that feels right. Plus I figured that there'd be timing clocks, or other people with watches, or maybe people yelling splits. I started off running with the four-hour-marathon-finishing-pacer. Someone volunteers to be the pacer and he/she runs with a GPS that helps calculate that they're going the right pace, and that pacer in this race was carrying a sign with a bunch of balloons tied to it... for the entire race... running a nice, even pace. Amazing.

I figured if I just stayed just ahead of the four-hour-marathon group (about 9 min/mile), I'd be doing just fine. Sure enough, at the first mile mark, I heard someone say "we're right at 9 minutes." Awesome, right where I want to be, now just commit this pace to memory and keep at it for another 12 miles.

But that was pretty much all I heard, so aside from just staying ahead of that pacer, I actually had no idea how fast I was going. Which was a good thing because then I actually got to listen to my body, gauge myself by the tightness in my thighs, the heaviness of my breath, the heat in my cheeks, and the fact that my right foot fell asleep and was completely numb for at least a few miles. Something about just felt so... natural and good and right. Oh, and no music either. Aside from the fact that I also forgot my iPod, I like to enjoy the sounds of the race-- the other footsteps padding along, the panting, the cheers, the banter of other runners (only in the beginning as you might imagine).

I'm sure I'm must look like a complete goober in races because the same jubilant feeling came over me that I experienced for most of my marathon-- just an uncontrollable urge to smile while running, thinking wow, it's so amazing that people get up at 7am to stand outside and bang drums and pots and cheer for complete strangers who PAY to do something as ridiculous as run! I felt all this gratitude for people on the sidelines, and the volunteers who are so great and fill up tiny little water cups and try to hand them to you at the water stations. Anyhow I remembered in my marathon how great Richard and Jake and mom were about finding places to cheer and making themselves seen. That made me smile. Although I knew no one was there for me, I kept looking out. I'm sure I could've encouraged Elizabeth or other coworkers to come cheer but I always assume people will think it's just boring to stand there and scan the runners for a few seconds of cheering for a friend. But I thought maybe Devin's parents would be there- no. Actually Jake and his girlfriend Rachel were in the crowd to cheer on some friends, but unfortunately we never saw each other. Probably because I was like white lightning.

The only other split I knew was my 10km because they had a timing station and the chip attached to our shoe recorded that time for us. Things are so high-tech now I actually was able to set a Facebook feature to make a post when I passed the 10km with my time. Anyhow, I was expecting (with 9 min/mile) to be at the 10km around 54mins. Surprisingly I was there at 49 mins 20 secs! That's nearly a minute per mile faster than I thought I was going, more so because my first mile was 9 minutes. I couldn't calculate it but found out later that it was average 7:57 min/mile!

It was a gorgeous day to be out running early. Partly cloudy, there were some sun breaks which were unfortunately right in my eyes, cool, no/little wind. Early May so everything was green and in bloom. Eventually (strangely) my eyes glazed over, I swear, everything was a bit blurry. After a certain number of miles -- the 10km actually -- I made sure to drink at every water station, just in case (yes, I have to slow to a walk to drink the water, I'm not talented enough to drink and run). I had no idea how I was doing except that I saw ahead of me another pacer... hmm, which group could that be? Maybe I'll try to take a few more steps per minute and see if I can get close enough to read the sign. Not too much, just a few steps per minute. Oh! That's the 3 hr 40 min marathon group -- which is the women's qualifying time for the Boston, fyi, and would've been my dream marathon time. Oh, oh, I'm just gonna pull ahead of them a little bit and just stay right in front of them so I know I'll finish well...

Good plan until... oh, oh, what is that?! ANOTHER pacing group that I'm gaining on (albeit slowly)?! And this was the 3 hr 30 min pacing group! Wish they'd put the min/mile on the sign too. That group was silent, about 10 people all running next to the pacer, who seemed completely fine! Close to the 10 mile mark where the half and full marathon split, the pacer looked at his watch and made a comment about them getting some water at the next station and how they were a little ahead of pace so it'd be fine. Not out of breath at all, seemed like he was just jogging leisurely, but he's running a MARATHON!

Soon after we went different directions, the marathon runners heading out toward Springfield while us halfers crossed the river at Knickbocker Bridge. I actually didn't "hit the wall" but between miles 8 and 11, I was feeling tired and sluggish. But after passing mile 10, hey there's only three more to go, and three miles is nothin'. This is where I have to start getting creative to keep myself engaged. When I was young, I used to imagine that there were little energy packets, like mushrooms in Mario Bros. (true story), so I tried that. I also just focused on people in front of me -- super tall young guy, you're going down! Lady in neon pink, I will catch up with you then we can stride in the last few miles together, oh never mind, pump fake, I'm passing you... Hey you gotta make it entertaining somehow.

And then, to get very spiritual about it, I have some moment between miles 11 and 12 in which I realize how much it feels like me to be doing this, and how thankful I am for the opportunity to run, to stretch out my legs, to be here in this day exerting myself, pushing my body, sharing this earth and living this life and I actually say a little prayer of gratitude and wonder if "discovering who I am" might be done through running, at least somewhat.

Finally we cross Autzen Bridge, and I remember all the runs I've done along there and all the training I've done leading up to this and I try to push it even more, probably to about 90%, I really was wondering if I could keep it up to the finish. Then, excitingly, we end on the track (which is the best!!). The best race of my life (an invitation in Madras, 1st race of the season my senior year) ended on track when I passed the 3A 3000m state champion in the last 200 meters. That was an epic moment. This... not so much though I did try to pass a few people. The best part... my finishing time... which I was shooting for under two hours... was 1 hr 42 min 27 secs! A full 18 minutes faster than I thought I'd be, than I HOPED I'd be!

Official race pics at http://www.asiorders.com/estf.asp?EVENTID=63487&PWD=&BIB=4370

So I entered the finish area, a banana with a little peanut butter never tasted as good as at that moment (though that's practically all I could eat cause my stomach was very upset), I picked up my bag and brilliantly I packed a face washcloth and a change of undies and shirt, which felt so amazing. Ahh the little pleasures. And I picked up my preliminary results-- I finished 367 overall out of around 4058, 25 out of 402 for my division, average pace 7:50 min/mile (which means I actually was faster after the 10km if my average pace dropped from 7:57 to 7:50)-- BOOYAH! The winning female ran a 1hr 17min, wow, that's a 5:55min/mile pace. Top male was 1hr 6min. Top marathon finisher was 2hrs 23min, which is a 5:30min/mile pace. Top female was 2hr 44min. Oldest runner -- age 85 -- he did the half in just under four hours.


So geez, with a time that good, now I'm pumped to do another half. On my HUGE runner's high, I start having these little fantasies (forgetting about the actual training) about how I might just make my main focus now training for halfs. Actually I'd signed up to be part of a team with people from my gym that I've never met to do the Cascade Lakes Relay on July 30th, the longest relay race in the U.S. so they claim on their site (teams consist of 12 runners with each runner completing three legs over 216.6 miles from Diamond Lake Resort to Bend).

There was a moment (actually when I had to ask a stranger to take this pic of me so I'd have at least one that wasn't a self-portrait) that I realized wow, I have no entourage here. There is no one here to congratulate me. Or take me to lunch. Or even take my picture. I'm truly on my own. But, as is true lately, that felt okay.