I was at a Holiday party in December with a bunch of people
I either didn’t know at all or didn’t know well. So basically, I was nervous and sweating at a
table trying to be social when one of the people I sort of knew asked about
running. We went through the whole “are
you still running a 5K every single day?” stuff, and the conversation turned to
running distances. I was asked if I had
ever run a marathon or half marathon, and if I’d ever want to do that. The more social person recommended the Myrtle
Beach Half Marathon but told me that I’d need to break my running streak and
take some days off if I wanted to train for a half marathon.
The rest of the meal was typical Holiday party-ish, but
while all the small talk was going on around me, there was a whole debate going
on inside my head. “Would I really have
to take a day off?”, “What if I just showed up and ran it without training?”,
and “What if I trained but didn’t take any rest days? These were a few of the
questions I was turning over in my head.
When I got home, I may have Googled a few half marathon training plans
just to get an idea of what a plan looked like.
I gave it a week or so of thought before going to the marathon website
and signing up. I took one of the
training plans and made some adjustments to fit my needs. I moved the weekly long run to a convenient
day, and I took every day that was labeled “rest day” and filled it in with “5K
run” instead. Apparently, I was going to
run a half marathon.
My training plan. If you're a runner, I know how bad this looks.
The training plan I found was a three-month plan, and as
luck would have it, the half marathon was about 2 ½ months away. I was already running more than the first
couple of weeks of suggested distances, so it fit perfectly. Each weekend the longer run added a mile, so
after a few weeks, I had to adjust my schedule to spend a little more time
running. Near the end of the training
plan, that longer run edged up to 9, 10, 11, and 12 miles, all distances I’d
never tried to run before. I found that
I enjoyed the long runs for all the reasons I love running shorter distances
each day. Each long run provided a quiet
space to think and have conversations with myself. It provided time outside running on my trail
and seeing animals, colors and skies. It
also increased my appetite, which is cool because I love to eat. On long running days, I’d get up and have a
nice, big waffle. In the afternoon I’d
run and by the time I finished running it would be time to eat dinner and I’d
be ravenously hungry.
When the miles reached double digits, I was running for so
long that when I’d stop at the end, I’d feel very dizzy. The sky seemed to be moving or even spinning,
and my legs wanted to leave my body. On
the last long run before the half marathon I ran 12 miles. When the mileage clicked over to 12, I slowed
down and thought about continuing to walk to see if I could avoid the dizziness,
but I found myself on the ground instead.
My body said “No, I think we’re going to lie here for a few minutes and
think about life.”
Luck visited again with the timing of the race. I was on spring break the week leading up to
the half marathon. The tiny bit of
research I did on how to run a half marathon told me I needed to stock up on
some carbs leading up to the race. This
meant waffles for breakfast every single morning, and I wasn’t mad about
that. There were even some big carb-y
meals at dinner.
Wednesday evening, I was walking out the door with Blue, my 13-year-old
son, and he coughed in my face.
Accidentally, of course, but a cough none-the-less. He had been congested and feeling bad for a
couple of weeks, but since he doesn’t get along with pollen, we figured he was
reacting to the coming of Spring. When I
felt the cough hit my face I wondered if maybe he had been sick and now that
sickness was multiplying on my face.
This will be important to remember in a couple of paragraphs.
Friday, I got up early and ran my usual 5K in the dark. We loaded up the car for the weekend trip to
the beach and headed out. Packet pick-up
was held at a Dave and Buster’s location and came with a free-play card, so the
kids were thrilled to spend some time playing games. Just like everyone else, they thought their
7.6 million tickets would get them a widescreen TV at the redemption desk. They ended up with some gummy bears and two
oversized kazoos. Strangely enough, I
was not the bright parent who decided a noisemaker was a good idea on a weekend
trip.
Blue on the windy beach.
We got to walk on the beach and taste the strong coastal
winds. Tiny sandstorms were blowing down
the beach. The temperature was in the
upper 50s, but the wind cut right through you.
The beach is my happy place, and it was a perfect way to relax before
the pre-race jitters. I enjoyed more
carbs that evening and started calculating when I’d need to wake up in order to
make it to the start line on time. The
race began at 7:00 am. We were staying
about 20 minutes away from the start line.
The only big race I did before this one required absolute chaos just to
get to the start line, so I didn’t know how difficult it would be to get
there. Roads were going to be closed. Everyone
was going to be headed to the same place at the same time. We ended up deciding to get up at a little
after 5:00 am and planning to leave at 5:45 am.
That night I went to bed around 10:00 pm dreading the early
alarm. I also felt kind of bad. I had a headache and my nose was stopping
up. I kept thinking about Blue coughing
on me. After 2 ½ months of training and
being lucky enough to stay healthy and avoid injuries, a single 13-year-old
cough was going to bring me down. I
slept from 10:00 pm until 2:00 am. Then
I woke up at least once an hour until finally giving up on sleep just before
the alarm went off. I felt terrible. I couldn’t breathe and my head was
throbbing. I knew I was still running
but now the pre-race fears were amping up and making me think about dropping
dead on the course. What if my head
exploded? What if my heart stopped? I’ve been told I can have an overactive
imagination.
I tossed a couple of Ibuprofen down my throat, ate a banana
and a granola bar, and threw on my running clothes which suddenly felt a lot
less warm than I would have preferred. I
did look at the weather forecast in advance and planned what I would wear. At home I run in low 30s temperatures all
winter in shorts. I don’t bother with
long sleeves unless it’s below freezing.
I expected to start out chilly and warm up quickly from running but
since I knew there’s often a good breeze at the beach, I opted to take a long
sleeve running shirt just in case. I
walked to the car in shorts, a short sleeve shirt under a long sleeve shirt, a
beanie, and my running gloves. I was
cold.
We got to the drop off point fast, and I was able to walk
right up to the start line. The wind was
barreling down the street, and there was no protection from the wind except
inside the line of port-a-potties. I had no intention of going in one of those
unless I had an emergency. I jumped in
place and turned my body sideways to offer less wind resistance. I swayed, walked in circles, and thought
about hot summer days. I was still
freezing. As more and more bodies
crowded into the space, the wind didn’t seem as bad. I kept my mind busy and didn’t really get
nervous about the race. I told myself I
could run the distance, and I wasn’t concerned about my time because I really
had nothing to use for comparison.
The starting line beginning to fill in with bodies.
I had looked back at my pace over the last several long runs
and figured out that I wanted to be as close to the 2-hour mark as
possible. I expected 2 hours and 15
minutes would be my finish time, so I made my way between the 2-hour pacer and
the 2 ½ hour pacer in the corrals. When
the official gun started the race, it was a good minute before we started
moving beyond a slow walk. As with most
races, people who had no intention of going fast were at the front and 90% of
the other people had to maneuver around them in the first mile. I was happy to be running, and I was warm
almost immediately. Runners started
shedding their outer layers and tossing them on the sidewalk. Everyone was jockeying for position to pass
and trying to find their pace. I had
been warned by Blue’s cross-country coach that everyone goes out too fast and
then regrets that error, but my first mile was slower than all my other miles
except for the last two.
As I squeezed between slower runners, and tried not to kick
anyone’s legs, I watched the people around me.
There was the female runner just past the start line who got tripped and
then almost trampled. She was smiling as
I looked back at her to make sure she was OK.
Someone was helping her up. Then
there was the lady who ran in front of me for almost 3 miles before swerving
hard to the right toward the sidewalk.
There was a cute little family with signs on the sidewalk, and I assumed
she was going to high five or hug them.
Instead she ran around them and into a small grove of live oak trees
before turning around and dropping her pants as she squatted down. Once I realized what was happening, I averted
my eyes.
I admit to being a tiny bit competitive when it comes to
running. I know I’m not trying out for
the Olympic team in my lifetime, but if you’re in front of me, I’m going to try
to change that. In a 5K race I figure
out my place easily. I eyeball the
competition before the race. I see who
is where during the first mile, and I set my sights on the people I need to
pass. For the most part, runners’ bodies
in a 5K will provide the information I need.
In a half marathon, all of that was out the window. I was getting lapped by people three times my
size. People who looked like they had
never run a day in their lives were speeding by and staying ahead. People who looked fast were stopping to walk
(or heave). It was a new game to
consider, but I had picked my spot, and I was happy to just see if I could
cross the finish line alive.
Luckily, running is great for congestion. My head and nose cleared as soon as the race began,
and I felt great. I had cursed Blue for
giving me the Corona virus and potentially killing me while I tried to run a
ridiculous distance, but I was fine. My
legs even felt fast. I go to the beach
a lot, and I’m very familiar with the roads and landmarks, but I don’t really
pay attention to the distances between things until I’m running by them. The race that started by Broadway at the
Beach had me running by the local airport and through The Market Common. I tried not to think about how far that
was. I tried to enjoy the sights. There was a big FedEx plane landing when I
ran by the runway. There were funny
posters held by non-running comedians on the sidewalks. There were runners around me to watch. There was even a head-to-toe snowman costume
with a sign that said, “Don’t Melt Down”. One of my favorite signs read “If you
think this is hard, try dating you!”
Another great one was a lady easily in her 70s holding a sign that said,
“Smile If You Are A BADASS!”
Somewhere in The Market Common area there was a stretch of
spectators gathered along the sidewalks.
People were smiling and cheering for strangers running a ridiculous
distance. One larger group of people
gathered with posters, and they were noticeably louder. They were cheering a little more individually
for people, singling runners out and speaking directly to them. It was kind of cool. I liked these people. When I noticed them, I swerved to the right,
smiled really big, and held up my hand for high fives. They all eagerly held up their hands for a
long line of high fives. I’m sure I sped
up 4 miles per hour at that moment. It’s
amazing how powerful encouragement can be.
The wind was powerful too. It kept coming back. Between buildings and in areas with no
natural barriers, the wind sliced through, bringing a chill to my body wet with
sweaty clothes. The amount of sweat
generated in a long run surprised me.
I’m a good sweater anyway, but when I would finish a long run and notice
salt deposits on my face and head, that was something I wasn’t used to
seeing. I was glad to have both my
shirts on, but now both were holding sweat, and the wind cooled it
quickly.
We ran back up Ocean Boulevard past all the places familiar
to me as a kid. Part of me grew up on
this road. Every summer I was there at
least once, but often several times with my family and with others. I was running past signs and hotel names that
seem like childhood friends. Just past
the Gay Dolphin and Ripley’s Believe it or Not, we turned left and headed back
inland toward the finish line. An older
lady kept running past me and then walking, running past me and then
walking. It was getting on my
nerves. A white-haired guy in a red
shirt seemed to be barely moving and yet he remained in front of me. Also annoying. I was cold. I was starting to remember that I
had legs, and they were hurting a little.
I run every day on dirt and grass, and the 13 miles of asphalt and
concrete were wearing on my knees.
Still, I knew I had more. I
wasn’t worried about not making it. I
knew I could finish, and I didn’t think I was going to die.
I had never finished a half marathon before and didn’t know
what to expect. I knew G and the kids
were planning to be at the finish line. They said they’d cheer. As I rounded the corner and saw the finish
line approaching, everyone seemed to be cheering. I know my brain was not working properly, so
I’m sure I wasn’t processing everything normally, but there was a lot to see
and hear. My brain seemed to be focusing all its power on keeping me
upright. I crossed the finish line and
heard a roar of noise. Someone handed me
a medal. I stared silently at some kid
until he handed me a bottle of water. I
grabbed one of those foil emergency blankets because that’s what I always see
people do after a race. That’s when I
heard the kazoos.
The oversized kazoos Blue and Violet had won with their
tickets at the arcade were blaring. I
looked over and saw the family stalking me as I made my way from the finish
line to the post-race stuff. They had
watched me cross the finish line while cheering and blasting those freakin’
kazoos (much to the dismay of their mother and everyone in earshot around them). They had to be behind a barrier, so they were
walking along the barrier until they could get to me. I vaguely remember some photos. There was a finisher shirt all runners were
supposed to get after the race, and the promise of free pizza, doughnuts, and
beer. I waited in a line in the still
freezing wind to get the shirt. I had a
small piece of cheese pizza that I don’t even remember eating. There were so many cases of bananas, and all
I wanted was a banana, but the bananas were so green I couldn’t even peel
one. At this point I realized I was just
being negative, and I needed coffee and food as fast as possible. On the way to the car in the still chilly
morning air, I realized I wanted a hot shower before any of that.
I had a ripe banana and a water in the car, and I started to
feel happier. After the hot shower, my
soul came back to my body. It brought with it the desperate need to have coffee
and food. I made a quick trip to
Starbucks and Krispy Kreme before deciding it was time for lunch. The Crab melt at The Grilled Cheese &
Crabcake Company was honestly the best thing I’ve eaten in months. It was amazing. The runner’s high was in full swing at this
point. I was happy and talkative. After
lunch we went back to the condo and made our way out on the beach. After a good walk in the sun, (and wind) it
was time to go meet our friend Rose for dinner.
Violet and I walked to the steps, dropped our warm outer layers, and ran
into the very cold ocean. She made it to
her knees before turning around. I made it about waist deep and went
under. The cold water hurt for a few
minutes, but I think it helped my leg muscles recover. It was exhilarating.
Another hot shower was justified, and another meal was
enjoyed. In the quieter moments between
conversations and meals, my mind was processing the race. I actually ran a half marathon and didn’t
die. I trained for a half marathon
without missing a single day of running 3.1 miles. I set my mind to something and made it
happen. I took something that I was
afraid of and turned it into a fun adventure.
A week later the world around us seems anxious and
stressed. The thing that we all fear the
most, change, is knocking our inboxes around and forcing us to alter our
plans. Many of these things seem out of
our control, and that leaves us feeling helpless and afraid. Y’all, we’ve trained for this. We know the importance of thinking positive
and being kind to those around us. Some
moments we are the fellow runners in this metaphorical race telling each other
“good job” as we pass each other or offering a hand to help someone who has
tripped. Other moments we get to stand
on the sidewalk and hold up signs while offering a high five to someone who
looks tired. But all of us are going to
make it across that finish line. We are
strong. We are smiling because we know
we are badasses.
