Turkey Day Half Marathon

OK, anyone who knows me or has ever read this blog knows that the last 4-5 months have all been in preparation for a half marathon run on Thanksgiving day. I will skip the whole weight loss history (75 lbs total) leading up to this day and focus on just this one day... This day the scale read 199, I had reached my 200 lb goal set for this day.

I awoke at 4:15 remarkably more awake than one would expect at that hour. The only other times I am so awake first thing in the morning are the mornings of deer hunts. In a way this was similar, I was about to face a challenge of me vs. nature. I could taste it, I wanted the run to start right then. I took my shower and then sat down to... um... "lighten my load" to make sure I didn't have to go in the middle of the race. Problem though... I couldn't! It just wouldn't happen! After 20 minutes of futility I figured oh well I should have plenty of chances before the actual race time... I dressed quickly and headed down to grab some breakfast. I ate two slices of whole wheat toast, a banana, and drank a sports bottle of my favorite Gatorade.

My local Fleet Feet running store was offering a service that a friend had told me about, they provide a bus ride to and from the race from our Suburb outside of Atlanta. She said that it is the only way to go. Being my first ever long race it sure made sense to me to not fight the crowds so I had signed up. The buses left at 6am for the 30 minute ride into Atlanta. I sat with two friends from church on the bus and despite the welcome conversation my nerves slowly started to tingle. When we arrived at the starting line and bailed off the bus around 6:40 I was ready to run... except... remember that futility earlier?

We all went and got in line for the 4 Port-a-potties. As the line slowly crept I looked at my watch and realized it was going to be close. As the race speakers blared out "2 minutes" I was latching the door. Unfortunately this is one thing I can't hurry! The more I tried the more futile it got. When the loudspeaker pronounced 10 seconds, I gave up! Having not lightened my load, I bailed out of the facility as the starting gun sounded. Of course this meant me and my two friends were squarely behind roughly 10000 people now filing through the starting line. I am sorry for the graphic images here but it truly was part of my race day experience.

It took us 3 minutes and 2 seconds just to reach the starting line at which point I started my stopwatch. This meant that the official "clock" time was going to be that much slower than my "chip" time. (For you non-runners - in larger races you wear a computer chip on your shoe that signals a computer when you cross the starting and finishing lines. Official standings are based on clock times but my goal was based on my time which is of course the chip time.

The weather was quite nice as the race began. Average morning temperatures this time of the year in Atlanta are around 40 and just the previous Saturday it had been 29. I don't like running in that level of cold. Luckily, kind of, there was a weather front moving in that had the temperature at 60 degrees that morning. Of course, that same front was bringing in the rain. At about the half mile mark we got our first drizzle. If it had stayed at that level, I think all would have been happy. Lets just say, it didn't...

One of my biggest fears was that I would do what I always had done in my 5 & 10 kilometer races, that is, let the adrenaline flow and fly out of the gates with a first mile in the 6:30 to 7 minute range that would just fry me. My plan was to use my two friends to hold me back. I jogged along with them for that first mile knowing it was a much slower pace than I would set for myself. That had the effect of warming me up, settling my nerves, and providing me confidence as we weaved through slower runners at what I thought was not much more than a shuffle. When we reached the 1 mile mark I noted my watch read 10:50. MUCH slower than I had even planned but hey, I was now ready to let loose. I thanked my running partners and wished them good luck and good bye.

As I upped my pace I had to move to the outside just to avoid the hundreds of people that I couldn't weave through fast enough. My goal was to finish in under 2 hours. 9 minutes per mile translates into roughly 1:58 so I knew that with the roughly 2 minutes I had lost in that first mile, that was definitely the pace I would have to hold or best from there on out. Not long after I reached the outside of the throng of runners and got up to pace, the heavens opened! Monsoonal rain soaked us from head to toe. Large puddles formed and I could feel the water squish in and out of my shoes with every stride. I began to fear that all the wicking action in the world was not going to prevent the blisters from forming this day.

By mile three the worst of the rain was over but it would continue with scattered showers the rest of the way. If you know Atlanta, the course runs from roughly Peachtree/Decalb airport to Turner field through downtown Atlanta. The first 5 miles are fairly flat to gently rolling, then for two miles you descend quite a bit, at mile 7 you start a series of long climbs that go for the next 5 or so miles, then they give you a bit of a break with a slight downhill to the finish line.

One of my biggest concerns was running this thing without the security of my hydration belt. I had gone back and forth on that decision several times over the last month and only the night before convinced myself to go without. This made the aid stations quite important to me. If I hadn't been soaked from head to foot from the rain, I would have been from the aid stations. Drinking from a cup while running is just not a skill I have mastered yet... I had also pinned two packets of Apple-Cinnamon Carb Boom gel inside my waste band for a mid-race 100 calorie boost. I used them at the 40 and 80 minute marks and was surprised just how effective they were. I had used them on training runs but I guess had just not noticed the bounce they gave me.

The hills at mile 7 hit me like a ton of bricks. I had been warned about them but I don't think I was ready for them. Watching my splits to this point I noted that I had been holding roughly 8:45-9:00 mile times but now I was climbing and knew I would be for the next several miles and I began to fear I would fall off my required pace. With this fear I leaned into the hill and attacked it not wanting to resign from my goal.

Around the 10 mile mark my right calf began to cramp slightly but not bad enough to alter my stride. It was about this point that I realized something, I was passing people at a constant pace. Maybe I was blind to those passing me but I couldn't remember them and I was still weaving through people, 10 miles in, like it was that first few miles. In an odd way, starting at the back of the field and taking that first mile slow was now providing motivation to pass everyone that was not my equal. I don't know if other runners do this but all of a sudden it was was like magic for me. I held the field in contempt. I would look up, spot someone ahead that I felt I was surely better than, and would attack until I left them in the dust, only to pick out my next victim. My cramps went away, my breathing settled, my confidence soared, and the final few miles seemed to race by (no pun intended).

Capital Punishment, the last hill on the course which runs past the capital building was really not that punishing to me. At the 12 mile mark my watch read 1:49:50 which meant I had just over 10 minutes to go the last 1.1 miles which meant my 9minutes/mile pace would be about right, but close. Assessing myself I knew I could do better than that and I upped my tempo. Once the finish line was in sight, about a quarter mile out, I broke into an all out sprint with everything I had left. It felt great to be still passing people that didn't have enough left in the tank for the sprint to the end. Perhaps I should have pushed harder earlier and not have had so much left in me to sprint but sprinting at the end is such a great feeling.

As I crossed the finish line the official clock read 2:02:07 but my chip would record my time as 1:59:05 which translates to an average pace of roughly 9:06 min/mile. They don't post overall standings for the half-marathon, only in your age/sex groups. Based on official clock time I came in 272nd out of 573 35-39 year old males. If you review chip times you notice that there were 12 people that finished ahead of me by the clock but had slower chip times, however, there were 9 that finished behind me by the clock that actually had faster chip times so by chip time I finished 269th in my group.

As I got on the bus to ride home I thought of all the things I was thankful for on this day of gratitude. Starting with the immediate, I was thankful it was over, thankful for the towel and dry shirt I was smart enough to pack, thankful I didn't have to drive home, and thankful for the big meal in my near future. Then I expanded my view and was thankful for the moment of clarity 16 months ago that I decided I needed to do something about weight, thankful for a wife's patience that all of a sudden had to schedule around my runs, thankful that I had avoided serious injury during that time, and thankful for the words of encouragement that many had given me. Lastly I became thankful for a savior that has made all things possible, a perfect wife, 4 wonderful children, and a brighter future that the efforts of the last 16 months have brought to my horizon.