Yesterday was my first big race of 2011. I returned to Columbus Ohio for my second half marathon experience in that city. May last one took place in 2008. Since I ran a half in Ashland OH last December at close to the 2:30, I knew I had some serious work to do to return to a more "normal" performance to compare with the past. Of course Ashland's race was not a standard bearing run as I was coming off a prolonged injury that sidelined me mostly from the end of '08 to mid '10.
When this year rolled around I was determined to train with great intensity. My first goal was to set a goal to hit my 2000 mile mark by my March 20th birthday. To do that I had to run 270 miles in 77 days. At the moment I realized how far I'd have to run, I knew it would take great focus considering I had not run a consistent schedule since before my injury, not to mention winter weather in Mansfield would result in many hours running on a treadmill in my basement.
This goal was reached prior to my birthday and became the catalyst for higher goals and greater intensity. I first committed to train for the Chicago Marathon in October and this stepping stone yesterday called the Capital City Half Marathon. 12,000 runners filled the streets to compete in this as well as a new quarter marathon and 5k race.In all nearly half of the runners finished the half.
The weather was perfect at 50 and mostly cloudy with a few peeks of sun interspersed through the course. After some delay in getting parked and waiting my turn in line at the portapot I made my way to the starting corral. There was no pre-race jog or 20 min stretch routine but I assured myself that I would be fine if I just started slow and stayed focused. I set a goal to run a sub-2 hour race. I knew it was ambitious considering I had not had such a result in 3 years but I calculated my pace and packed my mile by mile chart under my watch.
What surprised me most was the fact that I felt no butterflies at all. I normal have some nervous energy but today it was absent. I did not know what to make of it but I welcomed it nevertheless. I was in the B corral, just behind the elite pack. I found it amusing to be that close and yet in my mind and heart I knew there was a great gulf between me and that Kenya guy that would blister over the course. I crowded in to the back of the B corral and patiently waited for our release. Finally the waiting and months of training were left behind at the start line on now it was off toward what was out there to greet me. I have heard it preached start slow and so I told myself it's 13.1 and not 0.1 so go easy and I did. When we arrived at mile 1 I glanced at my watch and was surprised to see that my first mark was at 7:38. At first I thought that was a kilometer mark but it was indeed a mile. I was concerned because it was about a minute and half faster than my pace. I backed off my next mile aided by some cramping in my lower shin and ankle, much like my previous start in Columbus a few years ago. This cramp helped me get reeled back into my necessary pace over the next 2 miles. Thankfully by mile 4 the cramp and pain was gone. This is where some racing experience helps a runner not to panic when a familiar pain has a history of fading after a long distance training run. One device I remember from my very first half marathon is that whenever I see a mile marker in the horizon, I automatically go into a surge mode until I cross that point. Looking back on this race I know it was a deciding factor in reaching or missing my goal. By the time we finished our northward trek up along the Olentangy River and past the "Horseshoe" Ohio State Stadium, I knew we were about to head toward the more enjoyable descent back into the city where encouraging crowds lined both sides of the street and a ton of energy and support could be siphoned from the cheering onlookers. My favorite stretch was ahead at miles 6-8. I knew Kelly and her sister would be somewhere in the crowd and I drifted to the right of the road to catch a glimpse and maybe even stop for a kiss to finish strong. But it was a bit of a distraction from the race, not knowing exactly where they might be. At about 7 I spotted them and a smile came across my face like I had just found a long lost friend. Sometimes you can feel all out there in a racing crowd, in your own world with your own music piped into your ears oblivious to the street corner bands. But in that moment I was happy to find them and stopped even though I knew it could hinder my time and momentum- but that's what you do when your wife has been your strongest believer and has helped you on your way to this great. I contend that she is a valuable member to making this day possible. And that kiss was my way of saying Thank You and I am good. As they quickly slipped past my shoulder I moved towrd the middle of the road for most of the remaining 6 miles left. Around mile 8, though I never saw the marker, the crowd thins again quite dramatically on the turn eastward through narrow streets. When I got to the 9th mile, I thought to myself just a pair of two mile runs and I'm home. I thought of familiar two mile routes back near my home that I have doubled up so many times and convinced myself, I have trained for this and I will be fine, although I was really pushing the boundaries of my sub 2 hour goal as I eased into what's called "German Village." This area had a mild descent and I sought to make the most of it as I realized that in order to reach my goal, this is where I had to press harder. It's a fine line of knowing when to press but to be sure that I don't empty the tank for the final turn back north into the heart of Columbus and the finish line. And I remembered that the final 2 miles would be demanding as I turned the corner and head back up & up & up High Street. This is the place where your mind fights your body. This is the stretch where runners become walkers. This is the place where goals are made or broken (A Boulevard of Broken Dreams). I was divided in my focus here between my watch and the unending hill. I was on the borderline between just reaching and missing my goal. A part of me wanted to congratulate myself for getting so close and another part was asking, "Why settle for almost?" It would help to know just how far beyond the turn at Mt Everest was the finish line? I had no idea but thought that was going to be the difference between reaching and almost. Finally I saw the racers turning and knew just past the building I'd learn if I had enough in the tank to break my time. When I turned the corner I could see that the finish was about 3 tenths of a mile and best of all, it was all down hill on brick covered streets. I started to smile with some anxiety as my watching was racing off the seconds. In order to reach I would have to apply my other life message that my kids have heard, "Finish Strong." Though the body was weary my mind took over my legs and I broke all out in a sprint to the end when I hit the finish. I glanced at my watch that read 1:59.53. I hit the mark and erupted into a shout of triumph and a feeling of accomplishment that overwhelmed me. I know it's just a little race but for me it was more. It was a reminder that I am back completely and that the training and the focus and the joy of simply running all came together on a spring morning through the streets that would test the passion level of all runners. Mission accomplished.
