A Prelude and My First Half Marathon

PRELUDE
I know, I know, it’s been a while.

But I’ve been busy. And relaxing, and running, and now writing.

This past weekend was race weekend but first aerial yoga.

Wednesdays' are nice as they are a nice relaxing interlude during the work week. It gives attendees a space to be themselves and to express things that they might not even know want expressing. We’ve had some aerial rolling at all the classes. I think it pairs well with the motives of yoga as a practice.

When I get to sub for a teacher, I learn just as much as they do. Each teacher has their own style and each class has its own vibe. I had my stepdaughter-in-law-to-be (SDINTB). The first class was empty so I stretched what needed to be stretched and worked on a couple of poses that I found interesting. SDINTB tried learning it as well. We worked on the pose and got nowhere. The class after had some regulars and a newbie. We all learned one of my favorite series, and we all worked on the pose I had been working on earlier. And a regular figured it out and we all gave it a try. I think learning like that, with a video, and dissecting it, helps us all. It might help us learn a new movement and pose. It might help in the future as we try to learn something else new. Transitions teach us to pay attention to and to breath in these moments.

Runner's World cookbook did not disappoint. I made a Peanut Thai Beef. It was simple and delicious. The fiance nearly licked his plate. I added some ginger and traded the water chestnuts for leeks. Whole wheat angel hair for soba noodles. 

I had run on the 27^th. Moving over to a different treadmill, I worked on hills. My breath was still so short. The plan had been to move on to level 4 on the treadmill but it didn’t work. Running was hard. It felt good but no records were set and it was frustrating that the lungs felt so gunky. No cough or runny nose had contributed to this feeling. The next week I had planned to keep the legs fresh. I walked and sprinted here and there but nothing of any distance. It was not a particularly encouraging run to finish on.

So I love Door County. It’s the thumb of Wisconsin. There is a quaintness to it that they vigorously guard on their streets with art galleries, restaurants, candy, and gift stores. Some evenings you can even see a movie at a drive in. But mostly, mostly, it’s relaxing. You can go out on a boat fishing or waterskiing. Trails course thru the county. Trolleys do tours of cherry and apple orchards or wineries. Or you can just sit on a deck or beach and read a book absorbing the peace and stunning scenery surrounding you. Or you can run a half marathon.

RACE REPORT

And that’s what I did. My fiancé and I went up on Friday. I was lucky enough to get a room with a whirlpool and a gorgeous view of the water. Packet pick up was extremely easy and all the volunteers seemed to be enjoying themselves. A small expo was set up in the village hall. This race felt different and bigger than all the other’s I’ve done. I think number-wise it was. None of my other races had an expo with race pick up, just at a local store.

Before going to bed, I laid out my clothes, put my bib in my racing belt, and made sure that I had my Chomps tucked away. I put a little lavender oil on my wrists and tucked in for bed.

I woke up early. Probably due to both habit and excitement. I knew I could do the race. I knew I could do the distance. The roads we were running followed partially along the coast. The hotel had a trolley running to the runners’ concourse. I left my fiancé to get a little more sleep. The race itself was going to be at least three hours and there was no reason for him to get on a trolley that left at 8am for a race that started at 10am. On the ride, I met a nice lady who waited 7 years to come up from Cedar Rapids. It was a Mother’s Day gift. I didn’t realize how lucky I was until then in my ability to just come up to Door County, nearly on a whim.

At the concourse, I was left alone with many nice running clothes. It’s a good thing I had a very small budget to work with and I didn’t buy the 40 dollar shirt or the great 80 dollar jacket. Other people seemed equally tempted. I went down to Nicolet Bay and did some sun salutations on the beach. And then I people watched.

I love people watching. There were groups of women who were seated together talking strategy. Couples took cute selfies with matching running gear. Older people seemed to all know each other and seemed to have more energy than me. Bright shoes flashed in the grass. Some were in shorts and tanks. Others had sweatshirts and fleece lined pants. I can only imagine how much some people’s get up cost.

The start of the race was relatively uneventful. Runkeeper started and so did my Garmin. I never started my music. Redlight Kings waited in queue in case I needed it. And I started too fast. And I couldn’t slow down. My brain yelled at my legs to move slower. I tried running behind slower people but my feet wouldn’t listen. My first 4 miles were under 12 minutes. My plan had been to run around 12:30.

And the hills. These were not your normal hills. They were big hills. Runkeeper said that this run had the greatest elevation. Chomps were eaten. Water sipped. Even though I had done some hill work I don’t think I would have been ready even if I had run outside making it a point to hit all the hills in my area. Not even I were running trails. I started bargaining early. But I made it up the biggest hill taking us to the pirate waystation. I think they had made their own Gatorade. The volunteers had dressed up in costume and provided a little levity in this situation that had me feeling rather heavy.

From there it went downhill. Both the trail and my performance. My fast start caught up with me. I needed walking breaks. Chomps did nothing to boost my energy. I broke the rule of not trying anything new and drank the Gatorade. Thankfully, it all sat ok. Just make it to the tree, and then you can walk to the sign. See that bend, make it to the bend and then walk the next to the next aide station. Run up the hill and walk the flat. Even though, technically, we were going overall going down, there were still some hills. They seemed steep but, in truth, they were not that bad. I was just tired. I felt wiped and done and I needed to argue with myself to not wave down the medical teams. My feet were the only thing that wasn’t hurting. Thank you, Brooks.  I started chatting with people because I needed to distract myself. Beer and cake was mentioned. Runners like food and drink. Some might say that is why they run: to eat more.

Around the 10^th mile, I felt a cramp. It didn’t hurt, but it seemed to stop movement. In my ankle. I’ve never felt such a strange cramp. It felt as if someone had replaced my flesh and bone with a rock. Part of me started to worry about serious injury. I’ve been lucky enough to avoid anything more than shin splits. Walk breaks became essential.

Bugs swarmed near the lakes. Sun baked the asphalt with little cloud cover. People were stripping. Shirts, hats and gloves littered the side of the road. Later, runners would drive through and pick up wanted items and anything left behind would be donated. I took off my long sleeve and tied it around my waist. Then, mile ten had me taking off my first short sleeve shirt and shoved it under my belt. Some took of their shirts and others tucked their shorts up under their waistbands.

The last mile seemed mostly downhill. I was running on fumes. I refused to give up. I was not going to stop when I was so close. Thank goodness, I am so stubborn. The course-makers were kind. Right before the last 1/8^th of a mile or so, there was a curve. You could hear the cowbells and the cheering and the radio announcer. Yet you couldn’t see the finish and they couldn’t see you walking. So I dug deep and ran. I have no idea where I found this energy. Some people started flagging even more. But when I hit the chute, adrenaline kicked in and I found even more energy and I sprinted the last 50 yards; long, distance guzzling strides. 13.1 miles down and I was officially a half marathoner.

My hands and feet were swollen. I’m not sure if it was blood or water or both, but I couldn't close my hands for a few hours after the race. My butt and hips already stiff. My knees ached. But I did it. I ran a beautiful course and a difficult one and now have joined a special group of people. And we still had a day left in Door County.

It included fantastic food, a celebratory drink or two, and a gorgeous sunset. But first, I heard the in-room whirlpool calling my name.

Leaving Door County is always sad for me.

But there is always next year…