Where do I begin?
The North Olympic Discovery (half) Marathon…
Sunday was AWSOME! Stinkin’ beautiful! We loaded the kids, swung by Katie and Ellie’s to meet up with their family, and then stopped by Starbucks to get that extra little “kick”.
We made it to the “Start” about an hour later without a hitch. It was a bit chilly, and I debated on whether to let the car go with my warm-up shirt or not. I did let it go, and it was a good decision – at least for most of the course. Then we headed straight for the Sani-Can line, you know, to take care of last-minute business.
The race started on time, with a big sun break that made me thankful almost immediately that I didn’t have my warm-up on! The first two miles were fast and fun and bright. I believe it was flat. If not, there may have been a slight downward slope because we completed those first two in 16 minutes – which means – 8 minute miles! Oh my heck! I only run that fast (OK, “fast” means different things for different people) during my infrequent interval training – like 2 minutes straight, not 16 minutes straight! By mile 5 we had “slowed” to 9 minute miles,. Which was still 40 seconds faster than our 5-mile race a few weeks earlier.
Speaking of fast, I should mention the gentleman that passed us around mile 2 or 3. He looked like he could have been 70-ish, but was probably older because he is probably the kinda guy that looks young for his age. Impressive, inspiring. We never saw him again, he was GONE. Again, stinkin’ beautiful, I want to be doing that at that age too – with 2 gray braids resting on my shoulders.
We finally reached the hilly portion I had read about. We walked a little up one particularly steep incline, of course there was a downhill or two that warranted a bit of caution as well. It seemed we rolled in and out of curve and hill. All the while, we breathed a bit heavier than on our normal runs, but took in the beauty of the North Olympic Discovery Trail.
I have a hard time discerning what happened when between miles 4 and 11. Probably because I was focused on keeping pace and finding a couple of Sani-Cans. Scattered throughout the trail were chalked words of encouragement. I was surprised how truly encouraging those were. There were aid stations sponsored by different groups every mile. I think it was the mile 6 aid station that taped down rows of yellow balloons decorated with happy faces. That’ll put a spring in your step! That, and water…
Mile 11. Oh mercy. 2.1 miles to go. After 11 miles, why did 2.1 more seem so horrible and mean and cruel and evil? I remember thinking, “I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this,” Then, “I need to throw-up. I need to throw-up. I need to throw-up. I need to throw-up. I need to throw-up.” Then, “I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this.” Then, “ONE, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, TWO, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, THREE, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight,.”.
A little nugget about me and my head – I count eight counts of eights over and over when I need to conquer physical hurdles. And boy, was I a-countin’. I’ll try to anticipate how many sets of 8 it’ll take me to get from one point to another – that patch of grass… that stick, that corner and that puddle,
Around 11.5 miles the Carb BOOM! must have finally hit and that impending feeling of doom and destruction passed. We scurried through our mile 12 aid station – stocked with an enthusiastic group that most certainly gave me as much of a boost as the Carb BOOM!
Way back at mile 3 or 4 or 5 or somewhere a light mist had begun to fall. It was reminiscent of the misters at theme parks (Moment of Clarity – I am talking about water misters that keep people cool in those awful lines not “shady” men “misters“)… Miles later that light mist turned a bit heavier. By the time we hit mile 9 or 10 it was just rain. Cold rain. Piece of cake, right? We ran in sleet/snow and rain at the Seattle Half in November. All I know is around mile 11 I was wanting long sleeves, a fire, and bowl of soup… and a sofa… and a blanket.
Could it be?! Look! Just ahead! I see letters! F I N I S H. What does that spell? I believe if you sound it out carefully you’ll hear, “Glooooooooooorrrrrrrrraaaaaayyyyyyyyy!”
Somewhere, somehow, from some dark recess of our minds, Katie and I found a few more ounces of “get up and go” for the Last. Point. Two. Miles. It seems insanity is our “safe place”. I remember counting again, “ONE, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, TWO, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, THREE, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight,.”
2:05:45. That was the last number I remember seeing on that glorious finish line clock. Can you see my smile? I was HOPING for 2:15, DREAMING of 2:10, but 2 Oh flippin’ 5 and some change? Our 12-mile run the week before was 2:08. Crazy. Crazy!
Now my time was a bit different than the official time. I stopped the clock at the potty-breaks. Today I’ll just give the official results: Chip time – 2:05:22; Finish time – 2:05:48; Age Group – 23/72; Women Overall – 159/692; Overall – 345/1041
Oh, but I’m not done! Now I need to go write about my “Finish Buddy”, Bill. I never had a finish buddy before! Oh, and I forgot to complain about my soreness, and the stomach ache…
