the greenville half marathon part 2: race day

 There was a tough 5K race a few years ago that I was excited about.  They give cool trophies to age group winners and I wanted another one.  The week before the race a student slammed her huge steel sculpture into my knee cap.  It hurt during the entire race.  

Coming off of my first half marathon where Blue coughed in my face and got me sick the week before the race, and my first full marathon where I managed to get COVID-19 the day before the race, I guess you could say I was paying a little extra attention last week.  I was bathing in hand sanitizer when one of my students texted me to say she had a fever and wouldn't be in class.  Ugh.  I side-eyed everyone with a cough or a sniffle.  I kept my distance.  My kids were claiming allergies were to blame for their congestion and I hoped they were correct.  

On Friday I felt good.  I ran my 5K at an easy pace and I tried to take it easy all day.  I avoided any hard work and tried to save my energy.  Races make me anxious and I feel ridiculous about it.  Race anxiety for a 5K race for a person who literally runs a 5K every day for years makes zero sense to me.  It'a little more understandable for a bigger race.  I managed to go to bed early Friday night and the anxious thoughts did not ruin my sleep.  That 4:25 am alarm clock did ruin it, however.  I jumped up excited and sleepy and I walked gingerly to the bathroom in the dark to get ready.  I was glad to be feeling good.  Everything was going well.  

I drove an hour to the starting line and parked with no issues.  I was early and I wasn't mad about that.  I was dressed for the weather...mostly.  I knew it was going to be cold at the starting line and it's worse because you just have to stand there shivering for about 30 minutes until the race begins.  Then you're sweating for 2 hours until you stop and get really cold again.  There's no way to dress for that in my experience.  I tossed a clean shirt and hoodie into the family's car for the finish line.  I was wearing a long sleeve running shirt, shorts, ridiculously red socks, my hat and my gloves.  I sat in the car until just a couple of minutes past when I was supposed to be at the starting line and then I ventured out into the cold.  

I had an energy gel in my pocket.  I zipped my keys into another pocket and I put on my gloves.  I walked the short walk to the starting line to begin sizing people up.  Everyone seems so excited at a starting line.  There are fit people and really unfit people.  Some are just there to take photos and drop runners off and some are actually running.  Some have super cool running kits or outfits they've planned and they're all matchy-matchy.  Some are almost naked.  Some are running to warm up.  Some look like they're 80 years old and some look like kids.  Every body type you can imagine is there.  It's a visual treat for an observant person.  

This is the first race that I've paid attention to pacers.  These are people with signs on sticks that have a goal time printed on them.  I found the 1:52 pacer and studied her.  I tried to remember what she was wearing just in case she didn't hold that sign up the whole time.  I studied the people gathering around her too.  Some were older than me, some younger, some were more fit and some were not fit looking at all.  I decided that these were my people.  That one guy though, he looked my age and I was going to have to beat him.  Sorry dude.  I can't help it.  

I'm naturally competitive.  This is a blessing and a curse but honestly, mostly a blessing.  It keeps me drawing and sculpting on lazy days and it makes me run faster in races.  If you're in front of me in a race, I'm going to try to pass you.  If you look my age, I'm going to try to beat you.  And if I can't, I'm probably going to call you some names quietly in my head.  I'm not proud of that last part.  I'm always looking around at a race, always sizing people up.  I did not expect to be anywhere near placing for my age group but you know, anything can happen.  I still remember the sting of that one guy passing me a few years ago and I ended up placing 4th in my age group and I didn't get a cool medal.  I still hate that guy.

starting line photo

I stood there in the cold and tried to keep the anxiety and negative thoughts quiet.  I tried to think positive thoughts.  I tried to see myself finishing in under 2 hours.  I thought about breakfast and coffee.  I thought about not having to do long runs again for a while.  I rarely talk about a race publicly until it's over.  I hate the idea of saying I'm going to do something and then failing.  Standing there in the cold I took a selfie with the start line behind me and decided I would post it.  Before I put my phone away it buzzed with a text message.  Before each of Violet's races I try to make it over to her and whisper "Be a badass".  It makes her laugh and reminds her of her strength.  The text was from her.

Something that must have been an emotion welled up in me.  I laughed.  It was perfectly timed.  

The wind was cold but had less impact when people started packing in.  People were nice and didn't talk to me.  I appreciated that.  The pacer told someone she'd talk their ear off and that was a red flag.  There was another pacer ahead of us with 1:45 on his sign.  That was probably pushing it for me.  I stood my ground.  The gun went off and the crowd lurched forward as the elite runners took off.  Then we stopped to keep from rear-ending the people in front of us before slowly taking off in a jog to keep from tripping and falling down.  The pacers are helpful because they're experienced runners and they know to keep it slow at first and then get a little faster with each mile.  Inexperienced runners take off too fast and get tired too soon.  Once we hit an actual running pace, around a half mile, I felt like we were running slow.  I thought about ditching the pace group but decided to be smart.  I fell in behind the pacer lady and ran slow until I just couldn't any more.  I found a void and passed her, moving ahead with another guy who was coming up from the back way too fast.  I positioned myself with the 1:45 pacer group and decided to see how that felt.

I stayed with this group watching and observing.  As soon as I'd learn who was around me it would shift.  Someone would fall back and someone would pass us.  There were a couple of guys in their 20s ahead of me side by side.  I thought I was faster than them but I couldn't get a spot to pass.  Then I noticed the old guy come up beside me.  He had gray hair and looked like he was my age or older.  He also started with the 1:52 pacer and now he was here.  He was trying to beat me.  I've learned to not be cocky but I was going to give this guy a run for his money.  For miles we'd trade spots.  He'd pass, then I'd pass.  He was a spitter and that grossed me out.  But he was also in shape and he wouldn't be easy to beat.  Around mile 4 I decided to pass him again and this meant leaving the 1:45 pacer group.  This was not smart but if you've read up to this point, it also shouldn't be surprising.  

We were entering a less populated part of the course and because I left the pacers, I started checking my watch to see my pace.  My goal was to keep my pace under 9 minutes per mile but so far I was staying below 8 minutes per mile.  I was shocked to see this and I panicked a little.  Was I going too fast?  Did I make the worst, most rookie mistake?  Was this old guy going to beat me?  Would I burn out and not even finish?  

Negative thoughts kill us.  They keep us from doing our best and they often undermine us before we even begin a task.  Running helps me to keep negative thoughts at bay.  I get up and run 3.1 miles before most people are even awake and I know that I've accomplished something.  If I can do that, I can do a lot more.  I remembered Violet's text message.  I was a badass.  I felt good in spite of my fast pace and I needed to beat the spitting old guy.  And even if I was going too fast, these fast miles would still help, right?  I kept running the same pace.  The miles ticked by and I kept my pace under 8 minutes.  The old guy never caught me again.  Well into the middle of the course now, I was running with an actual runner.  This young lady was definitely an athlete.  She was wearing a matching running kit and she had a belt with water and energy gels.  She also had biceps.  We traded spots for a few miles but mostly we ran side by side.  It made me feel good to be keeping up with her.  I laughed a little to think that she may not have had the same good feeling about running beside me.  She navigated the water stations like a pro, calling out "water" or "gaterade" depending on her need.  I would swerve away to not get splashed and I ignored the fact that I was sweating a lot and probably needed water.  

Around mile 9 I felt a distinct change in my legs.  It's like they both got 10 pounds heavier within two steps.  I was getting tired.  Fading.  This was what I had been afraid would happen.  I knew I needed to get the energy gel in me but I wanted water first.  At the next water station I leaned in and yelled "water" before gracefully grabbing a cup.  I don't know if you've ever tried to drink a cup of water while running and breathing heavily but it's not easy.  I'm not joking when I say I almost drowned myself right there on the course.  I managed to get a sip down my throat but I coughed and gagged for a couple of minutes after.  It was mildly embarrassing and sort of funny.  The athletic lady passed me during my near drowning.  I took my time getting the energy gel down during mile 10.  I was realizing I probably waited too long to have it.  I felt a little better but the miles were getting to me mentally.  I knew the course so I knew it was a long way to the finish line.  I tried to be positive and I had to start saying all the positive things to myself to keep going.  I knew I was slowing down because for the first time in several miles, people were coming up from behind and passing me.  

"just keep moving, just keep moving"

I checked my watch and my pace was now just above 8 minutes.  This hurt my positive thoughts.  My legs were numb and heavy and I was having to think about picking my feet up and keeping my pace.  I pushed a bit harder during mile 12 and almost got under 8 minutes again but I was definitely running out of gas.  My competitive spirit was gone.  People would pass me and I didn't even have the energy to call them names in my head.  I kept thinking, "just keep moving, just keep moving".  

There were some funny signs being held by nice people along the way.  I can't overstate how important these things are to runners.  People rang cowbells, shouted encouragement, and waved at runners they didn't know.  I saw the usual signs about how you're not even close to the finish line, running like you stole something, or something about not pooping yourself.  They were all mildly amusing.  When I was struggling near the end I looked over and saw a white-haired lady holding a poster she made that simply said "Don't be a bitch".  This was the one that got me through mile 13 with a smile.  

The crowd thickened as we entered downtown Greenville.  The cheers and excitement helped.  I couldn't really feel anything physically or emotionally at this point.  I had to finish strong and I just hoped I'd see a really good time on the clock as I crossed the finish line.  There was an awkward hairpin turn right before the finish and as the finish line came into view, one last guy passed me.  I didn't care how old he was at this point but I still wanted to beat him.  We were just steps from the finish line and I did give every bit I had left but he beat me by a step.  I didn't care.  The clock was on 1:44 when I stepped across so I knew I had met my goal.  I would have been elated if I hadn't thought I was going to die.  

the face of "I made it!"

For the first time ever after a run, I thought I might get sick.  We finished on the outdoor stage at the Peace Center in Greenville and after stopping my watch and grabbing a medal, I saw that I was now expected to walk down some stairs.  Right in front of everyone.  It was brutal.  I grabbed a water and scanned for a banana.  Oddly, the banana provider didn't show up so I was stuck with a tiny Moon Pie and a Nature Valley bar. I was dizzy and a little disoriented.  I knew my family was supposed to meet me at the finish but I told them I'd likely finish around 1:50 so I was early.  I thought I may have beat them there.  When I gathered my wits I texted a funny message to the family chat and started walking around to cool off.  I drank my water and soon the family appeared.  They were early enough to see me finish and they were mad the announcer guy didn't call my name when I crossed.  My mouth was too dry to eat the granola bar so the family walked to a store and grabbed me an orange juice and a banana.  

finished with a lady eating a burrito in the background

I continued observing people at the finish line.  Some of those people who appeared so unfit and un-athletic had beat me there.  Some of the fast looking people finished behind me.  All shapes and sizes of humans mingled with family at the end all so proud of this new accomplishment.  I was amused by the people taking photos.  Selfies are fun to watch but so are the posed family photos.  There were a lot of dogs in the photos.  Many of the people with good signs held the signs for the photos too.  It was a fun scene.  We stuck around until most people had finished and they gave the awards for the fastest finishers.  The times were amazingly fast.  These were people wearing Olympic Trials shirts.  Some finished a good 45 minutes ahead of me.  

finished and still healthy

I got the official chip time texted to me while we waited.  It was 1:43, an amazing time for me.  This was a 19 minute improvement over my first half marathon.  I was 293rd out of 1,401.  In my age group I was 11 of 58.  I'm no Olympic Trial runner, but I'm pretty fast when I'm not sick!  

I went out a little fast and ran about a minute faster per mile than I trained.  I didn't drink enough water and didn't eat the energy gel soon enough.  But...I didn't die, I had a great pace, and I met my goal.  I was a badass.

The family drove me back to my car and we found a place to eat lunch.  I had just downed a banana, an orange juice, two waters, and a granola bar.  I tossed some BBQ down on top of that and then hobbled back to my car.  Back home, I napped and then Violet and I slowly walked through the grocery store.  Moving around was good for my aching hips.  When we got home I ate again and planted myself on the couch for the rest of the night.  

This morning it was raining and cold when I woke up.  I dreaded it but I knew what I had to do.  I got up slowly and put my running clothes on.  I went out and ran the slowest 5K I've ran since having COVID.  After the first mile my body loosened up and I started to feel glad that I was running.  I've improved a bit throughout the day and while I feel pretty good, I'm not ready to sign up for my next race yet.  

But Violet is talking about wanting to do a half marathon.  And you know I'm going to be down for that.

the greenville half marathon part 1: training

 I don't consider myself an athlete.  I realize I run, but as I've mentioned before, I barely consider myself a "runner".  Perception can be very different from the outside.  

I played stickball in my yard as a kid.  I played little league football in a school league every year that I was eligible.  I played little league baseball for one year.  That was enough.  I stopped with football in 10th grade and I did no other sports in high school.  The first time I ever ran for exercise was my freshman year of college.  I did not enjoy team sports or getting my head smashed by people much larger than me.  I was an art kid.

a tiny me at a little league homecoming

I mention this because yesterday I ran my second half marathon at age 50.  I still can't believe I'm 50.  As I said, in my freshman year of college, I decided to run a few times.  This was nothing regular, just a mile or two when I felt unhealthy.  Running made me feel better.  My second and third year of college was about the same and it wasn't until my senior year that I starting actually running.  My roommate Stan and I started running 5 miles every weeknight.  It was cool.  

After graduation I ran much less regularly, but I still enjoyed it.  After packing on a few pounds of insulation in my young adulthood, I finally decided to get in shape by signing up for my first 5K race, a decision that terrified me.  It was December and very cold and I knew nothing about how to dress, how to prepare or even how to run a 5K.  I just signed up and ran in shorts and a short sleeve shirt.  My first 5K time was 30 minutes.  I didn't know if that was good or bad, I only knew I didn't die and that was my goal.

I've ran a few more 5Ks now and I've improved my official time a good bit.  My best is a 19:10 from my early 40s.  Since then I've ran a bit slower and after turning 50 at the start of this year, I figured my personal records were probably behind me.  I realize that if I were to hire a coach and abide by some rules I could probably improve my times, but I'm not much of a rule follower (I'll follow mine religiously but I hate other people's rules).  I still don't have any matching running clothes, I don't follow a nutrition plan and I completely ignore all common sense running techniques.  These are weakness I acknowledge.  

I put off training for a distance race because of training plans.  I looked some up online and they all called for "rest days".  Most "rest days" require you to not run.  This was a dealbreaker for me.  For most of my 40s the idea of running everyday and running 12-24 miles on some of those days seemed beyond ridiculous so I never thought seriously about a half marathon, much less a full marathon.  But then I started to wonder if I could do it.  So I took a training plan and added in 5K runs on each "rest day" and I had my own training plan.  Was this stupid?  Probably.  Was it good for my body?  Maybe not.  But did I do it anyway?  Definitely.  And what happens when you run your first half marathon and claim it will be your last?  You start to wonder if you could do it faster.  Then you sign up for your second half marathon.

That brings us to early December.  Violet brought home a local running magazine and I saw the ad for The Greenville Half Marathon which was taking place in person on the Swamp Rabbit Trail.  This is the trail where I ended up running the virtual Charleston Marathon a year ago.  A couple of thoughts jumped up in my mind:  1. I wonder if I could beat my time from my first half marathon.  2. I had been sick for both my first half marathon and my full marathon.  What could I do if I was actually healthy?

I signed up. I dusted off my modified training plan and I monitored the amount of cookies I was eating each night.  I didn't really change it, I just monitored it.  Then I started running.  A half marathon plan can be pretty straightforward.  The one I used adds in some longer runs during the week but mostly the weekend long runs just start at 2 miles and add a mile each week until the next one scheduled is the 13.1 on race day.  Easy-peasy.

my modified training plan

What about a nutrition plan?  I actually just started eating salads and some vegetables in my 40s.  I don't enjoy a lot of greasy, fried foods so I naturally avoid those but I do have a sweet tooth.  I'll empty an ice cream carton or a cookie container.  Any holiday candy or chocolate gets very nervous around me.  One of the reasons I run is so I can eat what I want.  Race season tends to be in the winter and early spring months which means training through the big eating holidays so I'm not really watching what I eat, I'm just running extra miles. So I planned to keep eating food.  That was my nutrition plan.

Those winter training months also require some extra clothing.  I'm a world-class sweater and I get really hot when I run.  I'm also lucky enough to run in my own yard for regular runs so I can go out in shorts and a single shirt most mornings during the winter and not worry.  I know when I need long sleeves, when I need to add a hat and when I need to add gloves.  I've even modified for actual winter weather by adding leggings or even a rain jacket.  All of this comes from the "active wear" racks in TJMaxx or Marshalls and believe me when I say that none of it matches.  At all.  Again, 90% of my runs are at my house in the dark and the deer and skunks do not care what I wear.  

yellow, burgundy, blue, white, black, gray.  typical running fashion

While training for the full marathon a year ago, I did listen to some advice about hydration and nutrition during runs.  The closest I've ever felt to being a "real" runner was going into a running store and buying some Honey Stinger energy gels.  I even had to get some weird tablets to dissolve in a water bottle to stay hydrated longer on crazy long runs.  The preparation and planning takes a lot of the fun out of running and I didn't enjoy any of that.  I also had to buy a belt to wear that held water bottles and all of the food you have to eat for a marathon.  There are people who love the uniform and the stuff and they get a kick out of suiting up.  I just like to run.  

As I trained for this half marathon, I decided I wasn't going to fool with any of that stuff.  I didn't have it for my first half, and I probably didn't need it for this one.  There would be water stations along the race course and that was probably good enough.  I didn't need any water during the training long runs but I did start to wonder if I should pack just one energy gel in my pocket for the race.  

My training runs were pretty uneventful.  I didn't push too hard.  The training plan I modified was not designed for getting faster, it was actually intended to be a beginner plan.  I got up, ran, and then I got a fancy coffee and a pastry.  I highly recommend this plan.  I did keep an eye on my mile paces and as the miles increased, I consciously tried to keep my pace around 9 minutes per mile.  In the back of my head I did have a goal for the race.  I wanted to finish in under 2 hours.  I didn't actually do the math, but I figured if I trained at 9 minutes per mile I might be able to get under 2 hours on race day.  Races offer some adrenaline and competition to move you a little faster and I'd just use that to my advantage.  My final long run was 12 miles and I kept my pace under 9 minutes the whole time.  I think that would have been a sub 2 hour half marathon pace.  I was as ready as I was going to get.  

Now I just needed to not get sick.

overwhelmed

We are overwhelmed.  You hear it in different ways, right?  "We are understaffed", "There's a shortage", "We can't keep up", are the professional lines we all know but there's also the "I'm tired", "I need a day off", and "I want to quit" that you either hear from a trusted friend or see on social media.  The last couple of years have been hard and most of us have struggled to keep our heads above water.  

This seems to show itself more visibly in careers and in individuals who have been juggling too many things for too long.  During quarantine times we heard about nurses and other medical staff who where already stressed when the pandemic emergency hit.  Then we heard about cooks and servers who were suddenly "essential" at their sub-minimum wage jobs.  Teachers even made a little bit of news when they were forced to switch their entire curriculum to online education while dealing with their own at-home families, health issues, and low incomes.  

Eventually we started hearing about "the new normal" as all the normal people wanted to return to the lives they knew prior to 2020.  We may have thought this meant learning to live in a world where this new virus was never going away, but what it actually meant was all of us learning to just continue doing all the extra things we were asked to do during the start of a pandemic.  The nurses are still stressed and overworked, the cooks and servers are still making the same low wages, and the teachers are still doing more with less, even being asked to cover for the teachers who decided they'd had enough.  

This is the world we live in now and watching Netflix doesn't seem to pay as well as any of us would have liked.  We have to adjust and just keep swimming.

I deal with this on a smaller scale in my job as a professor.  Students come to our little academic world having (hopefully) figured out high school.  They learned to juggle some social things, physical changes, and memorizing things.  They learned to drive and now they attempt to live on their own for the first time as they begin college.  For the next four years my art and design colleagues and I begin to toss more and more things in the air for students to juggle.  Sure there's a party this Thursday, but there's also a critique on Monday.  Yes, we realize you have a part time job but you still have to be in class the whole time.  Yes, we realize you have more than one class and that all your projects are due the same week.  Of course you're overwhelmed, we're all overwhelmed.

I like to prepare my seniors for life after graduation.  As my BFA students move into their final semesters, I try to begin providing some practical advice about how to function outside of school.  This means introducing them to the idea that the graph above is for real.  Of course, I don't tell them all that at once.  That would be, well, overwhelming.  Maybe we talk about setting up a studio space in their home.  Then we talk about how to use social media.  One by one we get some of the less intimidating things out of the way until we're eventually talking about saving every receipt, making sure to get a contract before beginning work, and how to motivate yourself to make art.  Oh and those loans, you know you have to pay those back, right?

One of the career groups we leaned on very heavily during 2020 was artists.  Musicians had to learn new ways to perform and make money.  They had to produce new, creative work during a very tough time in order to survive financially.  Actors were banned from productions so they propped up their phones and did dramatic readings online and wrote books and articles on their craft.  Visual artists couldn't have exhibits so they learned to keep working during the plague while they also had to market and sell their own work while struggling to stay in the cultural eye.  Much like the overwhelmed careers mentioned earlier, these artists are now still trying to keep all these balls in the air, even while going back to "work".  This is the new normal.

And it's actually not so new to artists.  That little graph up there is pretty accurate now and it would have been just as accurate 5 years ago.  On any given week, I can check most of those things off my list.  Keep in mind that like most artists, this graph doesn't even represent my full time job, nor does it take having a family into account.  Nor does it take into account the ridiculously uncertain life of the recent graduate who isn't sure where to live, how to pay rent, or when they are supposed to be making art.  

When you talk to an artist and you hear they are excited about a sale or happy about a new body of work, you may want to remind yourself that they're also overwhelmed.  And maybe buy something from them, promote them on social media, or heck, just give them a word of encouragement.  Remember that they were the ones we looked to when we were all stuck at home.  Remember we are all overwhelmed.