October 28, 2014

My first (and worst) half-marathon

My first half-marathon was a mess.

Months of diligent – albeit likely too intense – planning and scheduling, running and stretching prepared me for the weekend. They didn't, however, prep me for everything to go down the toilet.

I started to feel achy and weak after picking up my race kit. Carb-loading in a comforter cocoon, I tried to sweat out my full-blown fever. It broke. On the morning of the race, I woke up feeling off but persisted anyway.

As if that wasn't enough, I committed the unforgivable running sin: wearing something new on race day. New shorts, new (and terrible) sports bra, and sunglasses. I also hadn't figured out less truly is more when running for a couple hours straight. The few pockets I had were jammed packed with tissue, gels, iPods, earbuds, ID and an iPhone. Not a bright move when you're healthy. Even dumber when you're sick.

Big hills, hot sun, and a weary mind made running more difficult. Throwing my training plan out the window didn't help either: I started too fast, didn't pay attention to my refuelling schedule and ended up walking, nursing side stitches and swallowing my puke back down. Along with my pride.

A mixture of sadness and embarrassment washes over me when I think about that race. It also makes me giggle and thank God I ran it with Nicole – my ever-patient, ever-gracious running partner and friend. She was beyond encouraging, telling me I looked great even when I knew my face was a pallid green hue.

It was rough. I was a mess. But I finished it.

1 comment:

  1. yeah you did. SUPERSTAR. and it was you who inspired me to run my first half! Woohoo!


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