Thousand Miles to Salamanca

3M Half-Marathon Results

Distance: 13.1 miles

I was working on little sleep. I registered late. I really didn't want to go. I wish I had stayed in bed.

Last week I had some delusions of grandeur. I thought i'd run this one hard just to "see what I could do." The race started at 7:00AM. It was pitch black out. It was hard to find parking close and of course there weren't enough port-a-poties. I had to go, but couldn't risk standing in line while the starting gun went off. The lines were just ridiculous.

So I held it and went to the starting line. After some rambling by the race starter guy, some uninspiring words from the Governor of Texas and waiting for the wheel chair race to start they sounded the air horn. I was about a minute back from the start. When I finally strethed out and there was actually room to move, I saw the mile 1 marker.

Mile 1: 7.23

Fast first mile. I knew I should have slowed down. I didn't, just opened up a little and found myself weaving through people. My foot started out aching again, of course, but it wasn't throbbing at this stage. Second mile marker came fast.

Mile 2: 7.14

Woah. Fast second mile. Better slow down or I'm not going to have it in the end, I thiought to myself. I drank some water at the water station. I was reluctant to do so because I still had a small urge to go to the bathroom. I drank up anyway. After trotting along for a while I was wondering where the hell the 3-mile marker was. I was also wondering where the hell the port-a-poties were. I didn't see the 3-mile marker sign nor a port-a-poty yet. But I found the four-mile marker.

Mile 3: 7:35 (approx.)

Mile 4: 7:30 (approx.)

Still going too fast. Time to slow down or I'm really going to die. Mile 5 was going to be a nice, slow mile.

Mile 5: 7:39

Still fast. Foot was starting to hurt. I started counting to myself 1-2-3-4. Six was coming along. I saw my friend Mike from the hill class. It was a nice boost. Ran through part of Allandale, where I spent a lot of time running this summer. Familiar terrain, not so bad. But where the hell are those port-a-poties. Wondered to myself if it was possible to run and pee at the same time. Never tried it. Was hoping I didn't have to, but was starting to feel my bladder hurt.

Mile 6: 7:51

Now I'm slowing down. That's about right. I saw that the relay exchange was coming soon. There was a 2-man relay in this race and it would be at the half-way point. Then I saw the sign that said 'Relay Handoff.' But more importantly I saw on the horizon six beautiful little buildings: the port-a-poties. I slipped in there, and slipped out. Kind of wished I'd waited in line before the race.

Mile 7: 8:38

OK. Lost some time in the bathroom. But I was energized since that pain was gone. But that pain was substituted by the throbbing in my midsoles. Especially the nagging on my left foot. Thump, thump, thump. I thought this damn problem went away with the new sneakers? Guess not. Here comes the water stop, better try a gu. I didn't want too because I was already tasting the fruity pebbles I had this morning. But I sucked it down and washed it down with some water.

Mile 8: 8:09

Not a bad pace. I read in the brochures about the "entertainers at every mile." The only entertainer I'd seen so far was one guy playing the bagpipes on the 8th or so mile. It was depressing. Don't get me wrong, he was a nice enough guy I'm sure, but is this the best entertainment 3M could come up with? Sheesh.

Mile 9: 7:46

Maybe the bagpipe guy inspired me a little. This mile was much better. I was on burnet road and recognized the area. The streets were lined with fans, relatives and volunteers. Feet were still absolutely throbbing, but manageable. So far. Still thinking the wall was coming. I knew that no matter how fast I start a long run, I always feel like shit in the end. I wondered if this would be any different.

Mile 10: 7:52

Good mile. Still had a damn 5K to go. I just wanted the friggen thing to end. Was dissapointed that the bagpipe guy was the only entertainment. It was misty out. The temperature was still pretty good and I knew it'd be over soon. But my feel were starting to kill. Really kill.

Mile 11: 8:27

Could this be the wall I was thiking about. Yes it could be. I knew we were getting close. Just two miles to go. I could stick this out. I knew I had a chance to get my half-marathon PR. But to be honest, I really didn't give a shit about that at this point. I just wanted to get the darn race overwith. I was getting pretty scared about my feet. There'd be no way I could run a marathon in two weeks with this much pain. That's about all I thought about.

Mile 12: 8:33

Ouch. I'm pumping my arms, trying anything to avoid the pain. Wishing I had taken the advil I had in my pocket. Didn't. But wish I did. Still didn't do it as I thought that. Why? No idea. Clueless. Just thought I could "beat it." Here comes the mile 13 marker, thank God it's almost over.

Mile 13: 8:24

OK. I see the finish line now. It's 1/10th of a mile away. Whoopy-di-doo. I finish the stretch down the hill and roll through to the finish line with my left foot absolutely throbbing. Thump, thump, thump.

Last 1/10th mile: 45.43 seconds.

My final race time was 1:43.51. That's a 7:56 average mile. All in all not a bad race, but I don't feel good about it. I was in too much pain and now I'm scared about an injury. If my foot is this bad, I'm wondering if I can run the marathon. If I imagine running an extra 13.1 miles starting at the finish line of today's race, my first thought is now way.

I'm hoping to make a Drs. Appointment this week with some sort of sports therapist. Maybe he/she can give me some advice to get through it. Honestly, I don't want to go through the hell of training for a marathon again. I just want to get this damn one over with so I can move on with my life. I don't care if my left foot falls off after I'm done, I just want to finish this race on 2/13. Is that a good attitude going into this thing? No. But. Oh well.

posted by Gray @ 4:33 PM