Thunder Road Half Marathon

I was worried about my hip. I was worried about going 13.1 miles when my longest run to date was 10.4. I was even a little worried about the unseasonably cold weather. I was excited to compete in something new, but I'll admit it, I felt a little out of my element on Saturday morning when we were getting ready to run. Everything was working out perfectly. No problems getting to the convention center to get my pre-race stuff, lines for packet pickup and bathroom were reasonable, and once the sun came up, it didn't feel as cold as I thought I would. But my confidence wasn't there. My last run (the Wednesday before) was as close to pain free as I had experienced since Thanksgiving and I had a great night sleep on Friday, so by all accounts I should have been ready, but I didn’t feel it.
Kim and I started somewhere in the middle of the five thousand runners that braved the twenty-eight degree temps to run either the half or full marathon. The vibe was amazing. People dressed as elves, as Santa, and we even saw one guy dressed as Bam Bam from the Flintstones (apparently he missed the Halloween races but wanted to get some use out of the costume). The road ahead of us was packed with runners and the road behind us was the same. I almost didn't notice my pace or the hills for the first couple miles. Around mile four I realized that my heart rate was higher than I wanted it to be and I slowed down a bit. Since this was my first half marathon, my only stated goal was to finish... but I really hoped that I could do it in ten-minute miles or better. I could tell that Kim was a little concerned about our pace (which seemed to fluctuate between 9:40 and 10:30, but was over ten-minute miles more than under), so I gave her the out to leave me behind if she wanted. I really felt like I was going as fast as I needed to be at that point. I had decided that I needed to keep my heart rate on the lower end of my comfort zone until about mile eight or ten, and then I could let loose. So I slowed us down a few times. If Kim was bothered by it she didn't let on. At the mile markers we were consistently hitting a 10:05 or 10:10 pace… until I got a really good song on my iPod at about mile seven or eight and we took off. Kim pulled us through another good song on her iPod, and before we knew it we were at mile nine and had cut thirty seconds off our split time. My legs felt good. My hip was starting to complain a bit, but it was still so much better than it has been just a week ago. We hit mile ten and had shaved off another twenty seconds. We were running at about a 9:30 pace when we hit mile eleven and Kim and I had officially run further than either of us had ever run in the past. At that point I knew I could make the full 13.1 miles, and now it was time to chase down my other goal: finish the race in a ten-minute mile pace. I won't say it wasn't hard, but I pushed it. When I felt myself slowing, Kim was right there pulling us along. I was taught years ago by one of my fastest runner friends (Ed Tarnuzzer, for those of you who know him) that you always need something left for the finish, and this was no different. As we got closer to the finish we picked up our pace, and when I saw that big yellow banner printed with the glorious word "FINISH", I ran as hard as I could. We made it. Kim and I finished the race in 2:09:49, which meant that our average pace was 9:55.
I may have been too conservative with my pace early on; I may have been able to go faster. When I try something for the first time, I tend to keep my goals pretty modest. I don't ever want to work that hard and train that long only to be disappointed with my performance. My goals that day were to finish and to run ten-minute miles or better, and I did it.

I did it!