173 – The Heights Half

No, those aren’t gang signs, that’s sign language for PR!

Maybe there’s something to the whole “poor dress rehearsal equals perfect performance” thing, after all.

I ran the 2nd annual Heights Half Marathon today, and despite a very challenging race, had my best performance at that distance to date! My “ramp up” for this race consisted of exactly two distance runs, one of eight miles and the other of ten, and neither were particularly stellar performances. I missed the early registration deadline, then the online registration deadline and so had to register the morning of the race, something that I hate doing both because it’s more expensive and because it subtracts from my warm-up and mental preparation time before the race.

But I got there and registered, warmed up a little bit and felt good. The lessons I’ve learned over the past few years about race prep, specifically rest and nutrition, paid dividends in that I felt as good as I possibly could have at the starting line. In fact, none of the nagging injuries I’ve fought for the past year were present, either. Despite my somewhat haphazard training and non-standard morning, I lined up feeling as good or better than I have for any race in a long, long time.

I lined up towards the back third of the 270+ runner field, since I always get a boost by passing people, instead of getting passed. And despite the downhill start out of the YMCA parking lot, I made a conscious effort to go out easy, maybe 60% of race pace, until my heart rate and breathing were up to speed and I was in a rhythm.

When the time was right, I picked a couple people who had passed me, and started reeling them back in. The increased pace came easy and my legs felt good, and soon I was running with the people I had been chasing. A little pack of us formed, and I stayed with them for the next few miles, getting pushed and pushing them in turn, the way a good group can work. Then just before mile 5, we turned East, into the sun and on an open road, and our pack splintered.

The next 5 miles proved to be the hardest of the race. The course went up and back on a fairly new boulevard, devoid of trees or shade, and on this morning, without a breeze. To make things worse, the race organizers had somehow managed to include only one water stop on what was easily the hardest stretch of the course, and mid-race too.

The race became a sufferfest, as the sun rose and the humidity seemed to load each breath with weight. I charged on, the benefits of my endurance training and racing this year carrying me forward without too much of a dent in my pace. Fortunately, I had stashed a Hammer Gel in my waistband at the last moment, and I sipped on that for a half mile to help keep myself going. Still, by the time we reached the residential section of the course and the water stops began again, I was flagging, and so was everybody else.

This is more than an inconvenience. I saw no fewer than three people collapsed on the course, which is extremely unusual at my speed bracket. None of us are pushing fast enough to win the thing, but most of us have some experience at this distance and won’t get ourselves dehydrated, provided the support is right. One guy left in an ambulance, and I thought I heard CareFlight later on. I don’t often criticize race organizers, but the “desert” in the middle of the race today was a huge oversight.

After I got back into the residential, the race got really hard for me. My energy level had dropped noticeably, and I was working hard to go slow, a predicament I hate being in. The usual parade of dark thoughts crossed my mind; thoughts of stopping, of quitting running altogether, of cutting the course, walking back to my truck, and never running again.

But I stuck with it, kept the pace as strong as I felt I could keep it, and tried to break the remaining distance into manageable pieces in my mind. “Just run to the next water stop.” “Only 3 more miles, you do that all the time.” “2 miles to go, that’s only 20 minutes, tops.” The conversations I have with myself in all of my endurance races. The same negotiations between mind and body, to just keep going a little further.

Finally we were back on the main road, and we could see the finish at the YMCA. I pulled my headphones out and listened to the spectators, trying to use their enthusiasm as fuel to get me to the line. The finish was uphill, and so my usual kick was relegated to only a determined charge that increased my pace slightly. But as I came to the top of the hill, I saw the clock and found just a little extra kick! It was still under two hours! My goal for the half marathon distance for the year was to finish in under two hours!

I was too delirious and exhausted to tell what the rest of the numbers said, but I ran as hard as I could, and then a little harder. I was making noises quite involuntarily, groaning and shouting with each quick breath, doing everything I could to get up the hill and through the traps.

And I made it! I finished in 1:59:23, under my goal, and a full TEN MINUTES under my previous best, set in April! In the nine months since I finished my first half marathon, I’ve knocked off 18 minutes, something I couldn’t have dreamed would happen when I was training last summer.

In the end, I finished 69th overall, and 7th of 20 in my age group, both placements I am very satisfied with. I would need to knock off a further 16 minutes to make the podium, but if I stick with this… who knows?