Sunday, May 6, 2012

Interstate Busline Half Marathon

Dear Reader,

I achieved a new personal record for my half marathon- 2 hr 05 min! Whoa, I just had to say that first. Now to the business of jotting down my race experience:

I tried to prepare my Ethiopian for his new full time life with a runner: early mornings, long drives to random towns, waiting around for hours, and a sweaty/stinky girl. On Saturday, he got a small taste of what's to come, starting with our 3:50 am wake-up call. Surprisingly, my late morning sleeper was up and ready to go with no complaints. The car ride to Bloem was a straight shot with an arrival time of about 6:30 am at the race start. As you know by now, my normal race prep includes listening to music and people watching. This time, instead, my Ethiopian made jokes about me and my running. He asked me what my personal best time was and, without giving it any thought, he told me that his Ethiopian DNA would prevent him from running the same distance longer than 1hr 30 minutes. (blank stare). With the camera battery holding on for dear life, my sweet guy made me pose for pictures at the starting line.

Since I didn't have my watch and the time on my little iPod is waaaaay off, I'm not sure if we started on time, but minutes before the whistle, a fellow runner told me that this race prohibited the use of earphones.  WTF? Lawd Jesus, take the wheel! You know by now that I run with music. It calms me down. It takes me to another place. It keeps my pace. I started panicking. I've never run a race without music. The only times I think I've ever really run without music is if I'm running Ethiopian asked if I was planning to win the race. Clearly, my normal turtle's pace does not allow for 1st place. He said, "So if you're not planning to take the prize money home, I suggest you wear your headphones." I kept my iPod, just in case.

Read. Set. Go! And we were off. The first kilometer had us run around the block. My Ethiopian was standing on the sidelines waving and using what was surely the last bit of battery life to take a picture. From start to about 5 km, I kept asking myself why on earth I thought it was a good idea to do an intense cross-train the day before a race. My legs hurt and I was completely unfocused. Second thoughts went to my feet. Why on earth did I decide to run a race in these crappy minimalist shoes? My shins hurt! My third train of thought said, "How in hellz am I supposed to run 16 more kilometers without music? Oh crap! Runners were passing me left and right. I swore that I was at the back of the pack. Ugg.

Quickly, I had to come up with a strategy to preserve my mental health: spot a pace setter and stick with  him/her. The first person I saw slowly started to outpace me. My feelings started to hurt. I was losing focus. The second person I spotted also started to outpace me. Oh my!

Pushing myself, I sped up my pace and caught up with the second person- a guy wearing a yellow Bafana Bafana jersey. Never before have I been so bold, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I actually ran up next to the guy and ran with him, side by side. When he would move over to a water point, I'd move over. When he moved over to one side of the road for shade, yep, your girl was right next to him. Luckily, he didn't seem to mind (Thank God).

At some point in the race, the paved road turned into gravel. Almost at that point I had a huge cramp on my left side, which forced me to slow down. Seeing that I was losing step, he said, "Oh no, keep moving." This was really the first time since I started running next to him, that I realized he was paying attention to my presence. Not wanting to slow him down, I encouraged him to keep going. Like the angel that he was, sent straight from heaven to get me through this race, he said, "the point is not to win, but to finish. Let's go!" And so we went...

I tell ya, if I weren't already sold on the goodness of running partners, I was ready to put all my money down during that race. Running with my new buddy, Levi, was the best. The sound of his footsteps helped me to keep my own pace. I kept my head and eyes low so that I wouldn't lose focus and pay too much attention to the distance markers. Actually, if you were to ask me what the race course looked like, I'd have to make something up, because I didn't look at my surroundings at all.

At about the 13th kilometer, Levi said that his left leg was cramping. Luckily, we were near a water point and took the time to slow down. This is when Levi told me that this was his first half marathon. Wow! Up to this point, he'd only run 10 kms. When he suggested walking, I gave him a hard time and told him to "push through the pain." I informed him that, I too, was experiencing pain in my left shin, but that wasn't going to stop me!

The two of us kept on going, running side by side like we came to the race together. At about 17 km, my dear Levi was getting noticeably tired. I reminded him that we were almost there and that we couldn't stop now! At 18 km, he started to slow down and just as he looked like he was going to walk, I told him, "You wouldn't let me stop. We've come this far together and we're going to finish together!" Sure enough, the last few minutes of the race leading into the Agricultural College, into the stadium, and across the finish line...were done together! We did it!

After walking around to stretch it out, I asked Levi if we were close to the starting line. Usually, a race starts and finishes at the same place. Because I wasn't looking around at my surroundings during the course, I had no idea where we were exactly or how close we were to where we started- I was ready to go home! Levi suspected that a bus was there to take runners back to the start line. No buses were in sight. I asked a race official how we were supposed to get back to the start. With a really dumb look in her eyes, she said, "You can try catching a lift with someone." WTH?

If I didn't have such a runners high, complemented by achieving a personal best time, I would have been hella pissed off that no mention was made about this being a one way course! Who plans a one way course and doesn't make provisions for transporting participants back? Like I said, there were way too many good-feeling, inducing endorphins swimming in my veins for me to be upset. Luckily, once again, my running buddy Levi came through. A guy he knew, who was actually in the same position as us (stuck without transport), so graciously offered us a lift back when his wife came to fetch him.

My poor, sweet, confused, tired Ethiopian was waiting for me where I left him. With no way of contacting me and feeling super uncomfortable driving without a valid driver's license (his Ethio license isn't recognized in Southern Africa), he had to simply wait for me to make my way back to him. Shame, sorry about that, friend!

The rest of the day was awesome. Since we were already in the big city of Bloemfontein, and still in my running clothes, we hit up the mall for lunch and a bit of shopping. We even managed to find the Ethiopian section of town, where we stopped for takeaway injera and tibs! This detour surely seemed to make up for the frustration of my sweet guy having to wait around all day.  Ahh! I tell you, life is pretty good!

Today (Sunday), I woke up stiff as a plank. Not only did I start my race off sore from the cross training, but then ran my butt off in a 21 km. So as you can imagine, the soreness and stiffness was compounded. My Ethiopian asked me if I was planning to run today. Uhhh, yeah right! I thought that, after church and breakfast, I'd sit in a hot bath and relax. Surely, my brain was still in an endorphin-induced haze, because, instead of relaxing as planned, I shampooed my carpets. After that, of course I'd sit down and relax, being that my recent domestic chore as exercise in and of itself. Nope, not I! At about 4 o'clock, one of the amazing ultra marathon running girls gave me an unexpected call. She said, "Hey, do you want to go running? I need to go running now!" Ummm....she and my Ethiopian must have been on the same drug. "No", I said, "I'm still sore from the race." Being the hardcore girl that she is, she said, "Come on, Dani, push through the pain." After a little bit of humming and hawing, I uttered words that I certainly thought I'd regret: "Sure, come on over." Ummm, maybe I was the one on that fairy dust. Did I just commit to going running? As sore as I was?

My runner friend came a'knocking at 4:45pm. Well, she was here, so I must commit! We started off on my normal route. Very surprisingly, I wasn't sore at all. In fact, I felt pretty energized and refreshed. Because I felt like going a little more, I added two additional hills to make the entire run about 10 km. When we returned to my neighborhood, my friend said, "...and you run that regularly? You were going to kill me with all of those hills!" The smile spread across my face! Yes, there's hope for my running career just yet!

Dear Reader, this running-filled weekend did just the trick to cement my commitment to a renewed running career. I'm going to do this and I will go hard! Last year was a great way to get started. This year is dedicated to getting stronger, faster, better, more committed, more consistent. My runner girl friend and I have plans to hold each other accountable. We're going to run multiple days a week after work. My oxen-like friend is going to help me make a responsible eating plan (Yes, I'm putting you on blast, B Casey!). Also, he suggested that I work on running faster and slowly increasing the distance on my normal course to keep it challenging. Further, it was recommended that I keep a running journal to keep track of my weekly miles and corresponding times. At the end of each week, I plan to post my weekly stats on this here little running blog.

Bleh! Now that I've written enough about my weekend and can feel the excitement pulsing through this  blog post, I think I'll end it right here!

So until next time...put one foot in front of the other and...keep it movin'!

Yours in training,

Dani




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