2:40:09! I'm A Finisher Again!

Graphic Language Warning

I was torn this morning. On the one hand, I had trained adequately to finish; I had completed acclimatization runs in Estes Park; I had eaten good and rested pre-race; I had sucked down Imodium and Advil; and I had plenty of gels to run. On the other hand, my mind wasn't right. Deborah was sick and asked to be taken back down to Denver, so I wouldn't have my sexy athletic supporter. ;-) She also wasn't very happy with me, so that was on my mind. And I did have doubts about completing a race.

The last time I finished a race was in 2007. My 2008 Melbourne Marathon attempt resulted in a DNF after 30 km. Since that time I entered the Cowtown Marathon and the 2010 Estes Park Half Marathon, but each time, I was injured during training. This time I was healthy, but I had a very hard time completing my long runs--the mental aspect of getting out and running was hard, but the runs were OK. In any case, I hadn't completed a race in 3 years, and once I DNF'ed in Melbourne, it made it very easy to opt out of a race.

Regardless, this morning, I lined up with the other half-marathoners and readied for the start. I knew one other runner, Maddie, who is a counselor at the summer camp that Justin and Jarrod are attending. She's only 25 years old and had three 16 mile runs under her belt over the last month. I knew I couldn't run with Maddie, but at least I knew someone.

The starting line was adjacent, as in right next to, the line of porta-potties that were busy as usual pre-race. I've never wanted a race to start so much. Not because I was ready to run, but because each breath made me grimace.

With little fanfare, the lead runners took off, and the race was on. I started my watch and began my waddle at the back of the pack. My goal was to run a 11:30 first mile because I absolutely didn't want to go out too fast. As we cruised along, I noticed my labored breathing, and I thought WTF? At about 1.4 miles, I looked down at my watch, and I was running a 10:00 pace, which is way too fast, but even worse I realized that my watch did not start when I thought I clicked it at the starting line.

So now, I'm breathing hard and pissed off that I made a rookie mistake. At this point, I said, "fuck it, I'm turning around and going back to the truck. I'll tell Deborah that I didn't feel good." As I'm thinking this, I kept running until we crossed highway 36, where Colorado state troopers had stopped vacationer traffic. I wasn't going to stop there, so I convinced myself to slow down and see if the run got better.

It didn't.

At three miles, I sucked down a gel and wanted to puke. I couldn't breathe; I couldn't run; and now my stomach was bothering me. So I'm thinking, "why the fuck are you out here doing this to yourself? No one cares if I run this, and at this point, I don't give a damn about finishing this thing. I'll rip off this number and walk back."

I kept going. I needed a Sherpa. Bad.

In 2007, when I ran my first marathon in Steamboat Springs, Carrie showed up and inspired me to keep moving and finish. It was frickin ugly, but I completed the marathon in 5:19 or thereabouts. I needed a Sherpa now.

About that time, between miles 4 and 5, a lady started running next to me and we carried on a conversation for awhile. It was a pretty one-sided conversation with her talking and me grunting answers as best I could, but she was so upbeat and having so much fun that I just said, "Fuck it. I don't care if I walk this half marathon, I'm going to finish. I am not a quitter. Melbourne was an anomaly, and I will finish this half marathon."

So I kept moving. Running mostly with some short walking intervals at aid stations or uphill sections. My old running technique was to find a female butt I liked, and I would try to stay behind it. I didn't really have that option for this race, so I decided I would pass that guy in grey. And after him, I would pass someone else. And I would keep going.

At 6 miles, I decided to run to 8 miles without any walking breaks. I never walked another step the rest of the half marathon. From 6 miles through 13.1 miles, I kept a slow steady pace in the upper 11 minute range with some 12 minute miles sprinkled in.

I finished to Estes Park Half Marathon in 2:40:09 to applause from a small crowd and with a huge smile on my face. I was/am not a quitter. At 50 years old an 260 lbs, I ran a half marathon at a starting and ending elevation of 7,522 ft. In the end, I was about 10 minutes slower than I hoped, but I fought through the mental and physical aspects of running, and I'm a finisher again.

Update June 14, 2011

Not that this matters to anyone but me...

I finished number 8 out of 11 in my age division (50-59), and they didn't have a clydesdale division. Overall, I finished number 182 out of 248. The average finishing time was 2:26:34, so I finished at a below average pace, which I already knew without the fancy digital timing stuff.

Although I didn't start my watch at the beginning, my known average pace per mile is as follows.

Mile 1 - n/a

Mile 2 - 12:56 (partial mile)

Mile 3 - 12:10

Mile 4 - 12:12

Mile 5 - 12:55

Mile 6 - 13:45

Mile 7 - 12:40

Mile 8 - 10:49

Mile 9 - 12:12

Mile 10 - 11:20

Mile 11 - 11:48

Mile 12 - 12:01

Mile 13 - 12:23

Mile 13.1 - 11:40