I should have trained more seriously. And I should have warmed up and stretched before the race. I skipped the warm up part. Bad choice. Stretching cold muscles can leave them more susceptible to injury.
I saw people warming up. They were doing all sorts of things: skipping, running butt kicks, slow jogs, high knees, and gallops. I thought, How silly! They are wasting energy warming up! I'll just jog this entire race and be fine. I'll just stretch and I'll be fine.
Bad decision. I think the degree of pain I endured toward the end of the race could have been prevented or lessened if I'd warmed up properly. Maybe I shouldn't have stretched at all. It's probably better to not stretch if you haven't warmed up.
The starting gun went off at 8:00 a.m., and I took off in the middle of the pack, with a modest jogging pace, about a 5.0. Most people passed me by the end of the first mile.
At mile 4 I heard a woman say "forty eight", so I knew it was 8:48. I was running 12 minute miles. Great. I'll be done this thing in well under 3 hours. No problem.
I noticed that other runners had belts that carried various beverages. Most runners had a watch on so they could see the time. Many had iPods strapped to their arms and ear buds in their ears. I wish I'd thought of some of these things.
At mile 5 I felt really good. Mile 1 was uncomfortable, and mile 2 had a big hill. After miles 3 and 4 I believed the hardest part of the race was over. I'd probably finish this thing easy.
But then came mile 7. A severe pain crept into my hips, particularly my left hip, and also my left knee. The pain seemed to get worse with each step, each second, each breath.
Miles 9-10 were mostly off-road trails. I was all alone. My nature-enjoying moments in the woods were interrupted by fierce spasms of hip pain. I felt like I was being stabbed by a small, very sharp knife in my hip flexer bones.
At mile 9 some old ladies passed me. At this point I believed I was going to be the absolute last person finishing the half marathon race. I questioned myself. What's wrong with me? Why did I sign up for this? Why didn't I train? Will I die?
My walking pace got slower and draggier. It was like I was using my lower back and ass muscles to lift my legs, then letting them swing around the outside of my body as I took each step. I felt like a puppet on strings, or a physically handicapped person trying to walk. People sitting outside on their porches cheered me on, smiling and hollering at me as if I might appreciate it. I didn't. They probably saw the big grimace on my face and thought I was smiling. Really, I was grimacing in pain.
At mile 10 several runners lapped me as they were on their second 13 mile loop to finish a full marathon. They would complete 26 miles before I finished 13. How pathetic I look and am.
By the end of mile 10 I was back on pavement, and I tried to jog a stretch here and there, but had to quit each time after about a minute. My jogging form was non-existant at this point. I was trying to force some pep into my step but in reality, my brain was dragging my unwilling body along, and I wasn't thinking of anything except for finishing. I didn't think about my to-do list for the upcoming week, or anything funny that happened last week. I wasn't reminiscing, fantasizing, or getting introspective. My thoughts were consumed by pain and the image of a finish line a few miles away.
At mile 12 I made a valiant effort to jog so I could finish strong, but again, it was too painful, and I retreated to walking. I feared walking through the finish line, with people watching and cheering. I had to muster up some courage and take the pain head on, and just run with it.
As I turned a corner and hit the last quarter-mile or so stretch of the course, I made the decision. I gritted my teeth and ran. I didn't just jog, but I lengthened my stride and pushed deep into the pads of my feet with each step, and my hip pain exploded. It was worse than childbirth. And not just the pain in my hips. Now I could feel it everywhere! In my hamstrings, my back, my feet, my knees... And I kept running, at about a 6.0 pace or more (not a sprint by any means), but definitely my fastest race pace yet. I wanted to finish strong, and with some dignity, even if I was finishing last of the half marathoners.
As I neared the finish line, my mouth and face were horribly contorted in pain. I knew people could see the expression of pain on my face, but they seemed not to care! Maybe they thought I was smiling. A photographer took a picture of me and people everywhere were cheering and hollering. The bystanders seemed so happy, so content. But I wasn't. I wanted to rip somebody's head off.
But then I went through the finish line, at 3:03:50, and returned to my walking pace, and walked a quarter mile up the road to my parents' church and sat in the back row, catching the second half of the Sunday sermon. I probably smelled bad. But I didn't care.
After church someone asked me if I enjoyed my free massage. I didn't know about the free massage booth just beyond the finish line! I immediately drove back to the finish line and had the masseuse work on my hip flexers, and he gave me an incredible overall rubdown.
I didn't get any runner's high. I just got runner's pain. I experienced runner's high once, in college, when I was running more often and doing sprint intervals on a gym treadmill.
I'm too fatigued to feel happy right now. It takes energy to experience joy. But I just ate some white rice, a half avocado with lemon and Celtic salt, several spoonfuls of real maple syrup, and some fire cider. That made me feel a little better. Hopefully some endorphins kick in tomorrow.
Update: The results were posted. I didn't finish last after all. I finished 84th out of 98 half marathon runners. I averaged an unimpressive 14.02 mile. A great pace to work on beating next time.
