The short version: 2:56:37, a 3 minute PR at this distance, over 10 minutes
better than last year.
Full pot of coffee, dog at my feet version:
Even though the addiction of triathlon runs through my veins, my blood is the
blood of a runner. Running serves as truth serum, divining rod, and compass
for my athletic journey. What I find along this winding path is that the
athletic journey is not separate from me. The journey started with a single
step towards roomier clothes and lower scale readings but became part of who I
am.
And so with a full triathlon season under my belt, I headed towards the Disney
1/2 marathon. My goal: get faster, stronger, and don't hurt yourself. To that
end, I hired a coach. Part of me didn't believe (and still doesn't believe)
that I deserve a coach. For heaven's sake, my new 1/2 marathon PR would be a
personal worst for most runners. But hire a coach I did. I feel no regret.
This is a race report, however, coaching gave me something I never had before:
a strong base. All those weekly workouts that seemed "useless" to my newbie
brain became my safety net. And when a last minute cold virus tried to push me
over the edge, my safety net came through.
Race day dawned early. Disney requires we arrive in the starting area by 4AM
for a 6AM start. The virus left me tired but I felt good enough to race, ~80%.
Regardless, waking up by 3AM and standing around in the cold did not top my
list of things to do.
The race started with a few fireworks and (inspirational?) speeches by Mickey
Mouse and Donald Duck. My plan was to take the first mile easy. I wanted to
feel like I could run that pace all day. "That pace" arrived 14:48 minutes
later. OK, maybe I could run a little faster. Before my cold, I had wanted to
PR this race. Would it be possible? I didn't know but 14:48 was not going to
get me there. Mile 2 passed in 12:50, a little better, then a 13:44, not too
bad. We ran through Epcot's World Showcase. Many of international cast members
cheered us on. The pre-dawn sky created an indigo and pink tapestry behind the
beautiful buildings and lights. Then, fantasy met reality. My body made it
clear there were serious problems coming down the intestinal pipe. Mile 4:
15:08. Did I mention Disney provides lots of port-o-potties? :-)
A PR would now depend on making a solid effort to run faster. I had no idea if
my body could/would hold on. Miles 5-7 are out on the interstate. Lovely
trees surround you. Three miles of lovely trees. Soon I began the mental
"you're tired, just walk" game. While I managed to keep my pace around 12:50,
it felt hard. Mile 7 was even slower. Then I saw a young man whose shirt told
me his struggle with arthritis had lasted 17 years. His body showed signs of
the battle but he was out there. These dedications always touch my heart.
They also make me cry which makes it hard to breath.
At this point I decided to make my last push. Mile 8 plagued me. You can see
the marathoners heading into mile 14, you can see/hear the 1/2 finish line, but
you have miles to go. My body and mind told me there was no way I could keep
my pace going.
As a slow runner, it's hard to wrap my head around the idea of going faster. Up
to this point, I've been a "to finish" runner. Pushing the pace involves
accepting a certain level of discomfort and the possibility of failure. I'm
only starting to learn how much discomfort I can maintain and how much will
break me.
The discomfort of mile 8 rewarded me with an 11:48 split. I was sickly happy
with that time. Maybe I couldn't maintain 11:48 but that meant there was
enough left to keep me in the 13s. During mile 9, I found Michelle. We
started the race separately because when we run together, we push each other
too far. At this point, we needed that edge to keep us on task.
Miles 10 and 11 take you through the Magic Kingdom. This part of the race
always lives up to my expectations. Spectators line the route. Disney
characters everywhere. Someone getting married? WHAT THE HECK? Yep, more
power to them. My body tired but my spirits stayed high, feeding off the pixie
dust.
Then, the spell broke. The last bit of the race takes you past the resort
hotels, golf courses, and more vast expanse of lovely trees. Not exactly
inspiring. Even with the end so close, my pace slipped. Eventually, the
sounds of the finish floated through the trees, luring you in. When I turned
the final corner, the official clock still read 2:58. Could it be? Could I
finish the race with a PR in clock time as well as chip time?
This possibility pushed me into a vanity sprint. Any remaining GU, pixie dust,
or random carb went into running faster, faster, faster. As the clock ticked
2:59:19, I crossed the finish. I could barely breathe, my left quad screamed
protest, and my laughter hurt my stomach. It was great.
Through the magic of chip timing, I now know I earned a 2:56:37 PR. I love it
when my chip time is even faster than my watch. :-)
Of course, with the PR comes with muscle soreness but the pride will last
longer.
Take care,
Linae
