Head Games

I’m not really sure what happened.  The first part of my race went perfectly – better, even, than I was hoping.  And with 5K to go I kind of, well, fell apart.  I think that if my friend Jan hadn’t been there with me I would have just sat down on the curb and cried.  Because I really really wanted to.

Today I’ve gone about my day smiling when people ask me how it went, and saying fine, I had lots of fun, because I did.  But truth be told, I’m disappointed.  And I kind of shouldn’t be.  But I am.

I had three goals (I’m a big fan of the fallback plan): the basic goal was to simply beat my previous best time for the Half Marathon, which was 2:11:07.  The second goal was to be able to run it in 2:05.  The third and most glorious goal was to run it in 2 hours.  I know, 5 minutes here and there doesn’t seem like a big deal, but it is.  Just trust me.

So I came in at 2:09:58.  Check to goal 1.  Big fat X for 2 & 3.  So, on the one hand, yay.  But on the other hand, boo.

So that’s my complaining out of the way.

On a more positive note, the day was perfect!  I woke up (ridiculously early) to the sound of birds chirping and the sun shining.  I headed over to my friend Jan’s house in town and made lattes for her, her husband, and myself, and then we all piled into their car with their oldest daughter and one other friend and headed out for the city.  We made it to the race barely on time, and then had to wait around anyway as they delayed the start a bit to accommodate those who were still trying to get through the traffic jam.  The sky clouded over a bit, which was perfect (not too hot then) and Jan and I started out on our run.

I loved running with her – it was so great.  I’ve never raced with a friend before, and I really loved it.  We chatted a bit in the beginning, we laughed at some of the funny/strange things that we saw, we reminded each other to relax our shoulders, and then we hit the 16K marker.  That was about when I started contemplating puking.  Shortly after that I started to get the “running through wet cement” feeling.  Both feelings came and went, but by 18K I was ready to quit and cry.  And Jan pulled me through – she kept reminding me of the stuff I told her about at the beginning of the race; what Suzy’s son said to her, the Henry Ford quote, and how Suzy had told me the night before that it was going to hurt for the next two days anyway, so I may as well make it worth it.  And she reminded me that Berry Guy and the boys were waiting for me at the finish line.  So I kept going, and when I saw all my boys standing on the sidelines waving at me, I cried and ran as hard as I could over those last 100 meters (or so).  And then I tried not to dry heave after they draped my finisher’s medal around my neck.

We went for brunch with Jan and her husband and daughter (the two of them had run the 10K) and spent more than an hour talking and joking together.  It was great.  I picked up my Caramel Macchiato after (full fat milk, triple shot, extra hot) and we headed home, and not even three shots of espresso were enough to keep me awake when we got there – I crashed with Berry Baby for two hours before I’d even hit the shower.

I’m not quite satisfied, which is not necessarily a bad thing.  As in my spiritual walk, it’s never a good thing to become complacent.  So I will keep trying.  I will keep trying to improve as a runner, just I as keep trying to improve as a mother, and as a wife, and as a child of God.  If we don’t keep reaching forward, we fall backward.  And so here, as in all the other areas of my life, I will keep reaching forward.

 

This is probably close to what I looked like the last few kilometers (note how Jan is sill fresh.  Note also our matching capris…*special*)

 

and this is pretty much what Jan was doing for the last 5K…