Dallas Running Club Half Marathon-Race Report

The Good.

What a fun weekend trip! We left early afternoon for Wichita Falls, but redirected to Dallas after finding out my cutie pie niece, Kamryn Paige, had a stomach bug (no thank you, Mr. Stomach Bug). We had a yummy breakfast Saturday morning, got a shopper's high at REI following breakfast, picked up our race packets, shopped at fun running gear stores, then rested at our hotel room before dinner. We met Jonathan's family for dinner (and saw our niece and nephew, cutie pies Alyssa and Cade) then did a little more shopping at Sephora before heading back to the hotel room to watch the Horns and the Raiders duke it out till the end (and to flitter about with race day prep!).

Ahh...race day prep. This was my first big race, and just as I love planning a vacation almost more than going on a vacation, I have also learned I love race day prep more than race day. I flittered around (as the guys said) pinning my number on my shirt, laying out everything I needed (except one important item!), and checking everything twice (then again, then again). I cross checked the DART rail schedules, looked at the elevation map for the hundredth time, checked out my personal time schedule...oh, the joys of OCD planning!

We had a group at the race--so much fun! Our friends, David and Christine, my sis and her friend, Stephanie, and we also asked Jonathan's family to join us (his cousins and their partners did the 5k). I think the atmosphere is so much fun with a group!

Post race on Sunday we enjoyed another yummy meal, stopped and saw 3 other cutie pies--Brileigh, Kamryn, and Brody, and had good conversation all the way home. I just love traveling with good friends!

The Bad. The Ugly.

I felt prepared. I really did, especially following my successful 10 mile run. I even felt okay about the elevation changes since I did 3 of my long runs on Wildcat Bluff. It was "go time".

I was nervous as everything. I didn't sleep well Saturday night, but I slept well on Friday night and took a nap on Saturday so I wasn't too worried. We were there exactly on time. The energy was great. I was excited. Again, it was "go time".

Jonathan wanted to run with me since we said we'd do this "half marathon bit" together. I was skeptical of this (the challenges of running as husband and wife deserves a post all its own), but he insisted. We lined up with the 2:30 pace group. I felt this was a conservative choice. The gun went off, and we started moving ever so slowly to the start line. People were cheering; music was blaring; I loved it!

(Note: this is the last thing I would love for over 2 and a half hours.)

Miles 1-3: Things start off great. I'm not even freaking out when I realize the one thing I forgot to lay out and apply was my deodorant! I know...ewww! I've been having some shin problems, and I have to stop so Jonathan can work on it so we decide we'll run a little ahead of the 2:30 pace group and watch for them in later miles and then fall in. Our first 3 splits are even 11:15's which is exactly where we need to be (11:27's ensure a 2:30 finish). The lake is nice; the houses are pretty. We stop at the Mile 3 water stop as planned. I can tell my blister cover is crinkling so I take off my shoe and sock and remove it while Jonathan goes to the bathroom. My blister looks horrible. My shins aren't hurting at all; I'm so thankful! I'm skeptical, but this is fun!

Miles 4-5: Umm...this is starting to be not-so-fun. It's hilly. It's really hilly. In fact, I think there's a small mountain range that no one has identified in the middle of town. I'm not supposed to walk until Mile 5, but I power walk the hills at Mile 4 and Mile 5. I take GU and water at Mile 5; it puts a little pep in my step, but the "pep" quickly turns to "plunk"...

Miles 6-7: I break down the race into 3 parts: 5 miles, 10 miles, then the full 13.1. I'm on leg 2. The "big hill" is over until the next one at Mile 8. I settle in for some flat terrain and big houses. I really should enjoy the experience. Funny thing is, the terrain doesn't flatten out. My blister is killing me. It is hot outside. It's humid. I'm struggling. Meanwhile, "Chipper Jonathan" is bounding up hills and loving every minute of it (literally, think of a deer bounding up a hill; it's what he looks like: strong, effortless, and happy). He tells me to look at a neat piano in someone's house. I cut my eyes and see it, but I don't actually turn my head (takes too much energy to move it to the left then center it back on the road) so he thinks I'm not looking at it. He gets frustrated with me. I yell naughty words at him--loud. When someone calls out "Half Way!", I want to cry. I'm only half way??? This isn't that fun.

Miles 8-9: Why in the world did I think I could do this? The hill at Mile 8 makes me laugh (the kind of nervous laughter you do when you want to cry). I walk up it; not power walk, just walk. Jonathan stays a good 10 feet ahead of me, if not more. He's annoyed with my negative attitude (after all, I did yell naughty words at him earlier). I don't really care. I'm annoyed with him, too-- his bounding around, his chipper attitude. He's not even breathing hard. He's only sweating because it's hot, not because he's exerting very much energy. I think of one of the reasons I started running...to have one of those lean bodies that runners have, tight abs, sculpted legs and arms. Man, I used to fantasize about how I would look in my running clothes at my first 13.1. Jonathan would think he had a hot wife---it was going to be great. Back to reality: I'm wet with sweat and don't smell that great either thanks to forgetting my deodorant. My face is tomato red. My shorts are crawling. I have a little bit of a muffin top peeking over my running shorts. My legs are lily white. My face is contorted with exhaustion and anger. I've just yelled naughty words. Not only does this race suck, but I haven't come close to becoming the hot wife. I actually say out loud at mile 9: "I cannot do this." Screw this. I reluctantly take another GU. This isn't fun at all.

Mile 10: I somehow make it to Mile 10. My blister is numb, and my shins aren't hurting at all. For a moment, I'm so happy! Mile 10! I'm on the 3rd leg of this race! Yahoo! Just a 5k left!

Mile 10.25 (I'm manic now): Mile 10? Are you kidding me? I have a whole 5k left???

Mile 11: At this mile marker, Jonathan says he wants to see how fast he can run a mile so he'll meet me at the next water stop (at mile 12.3) so we can cross the line together (hopefully even you are annoyed that he would do a mile time trial in the midst of my despair) . I tell him not to bother, to just finish. He says he'll wait for me. I am completely demoralized at this point. I walk an entire half mile. At one point I decide I'll run 4 minutes then walk 1 minute. I look down at my watch after running for a bit and see that only 90 seconds has passed. Seriously? 90 seconds? I acknowledge how sick I am on this mile. I am completely influenced by those around me. If a person who is overweight or old passes me, I start running. "I can't lose to them." But if a fit person starts walking or is walking already, I think "I'm going to walk, too (or I'll keep walking). See? That person is young and fit and is walking. It's obviously okay." I acknowledge that this is pathetic. I am pathetic. I can't believe how bad this sucks. Not fun at all.

Mile 12: I will never, EVER, as long as the world goes 'round do this again. Never. It's horrible. There is no shade. The sun is shining down on me hard. It is humid. I hate this. I hate you. I hate me. And I especially hate whomever invented half marathons. They suck. I fantasize about burning my shoes, my Camelbak, my reflective vest, and every training plan I have ever printed off. Let's have a bonfire! Because this is the worst thing I've ever done. Not fun!

Mile 12.3. I meet up with Jonathan (where he has been peacefully resting since his one mile time trial). I start running after I have some water. I decide I'll run 2 minutes then walk 2 minutes. Jonathan seems annoyed. I am annoyed that he is annoyed.

Mile 12.5 Everyone keeps yelling "you're almost there"! I know to to ignore them, but secretly I'm hopeful that they are right. Then someone yells, "just half a mile to go!" You have got to be kidding me!!! I can't make it a half mile!

Somewhere in between: I see my sis. She's yelling for me. She starts running beside me and telling me things like, "It's just around this stop sign. Lengthen your stride. Move your arms. Keep going. You're right there." These are the best words I've ever heard. I want to hug her, but that would take energy. I momentarily wipe the scowl off my face. I am so glad she's here.

Mile 13: Sis leaves me to let me finish. Jonathan is near. I see the official clock. It says 2:44:something. I will finish before it says 2:45; I am determined. I try to move those lead legs faster. I cross the line. I know it's my name they're announcing because they butcher it. I grab my medal. I grab my bottle of water. I find my "pit crew". Jonathan says, "We finished this thing. Give me 5." I give him 5. I'm done. I didn't come close to a 2:30 finish, and I'm certainly not feeling happy or hopeful about the race like I had wanted. But I am done. This thing is over.

Reflections of a first timer to follow...