Specifically, I ran a half marathon…on Sunday. With my own legs…and I’m not currently a ghost writing this to you.
Yes, I finished it. In fact, I did it only 3 minutes slower than I thought I’d do it. I ran the half in 2 hours and 48 minutes, that’s 12 minutes less than 3 hours. Which is the length of Apocolypse Now. However, I can assure you it was far less exciting.
I will say that I’m proud of it, not proud enough to get a sticker for my car or to join any marathon chat rooms (I’m assuming those exist, because I mean…why wouldn’t they, but I’m proud.
I mean, I ran a half marathon it was 13 miles and I was physically active for nearly 3 hours. That means, right around the time a fat Marlon Brandon watched as his Vietnamese soldiers killed a water buffalo I was panting my way through the last 3 miles of the race.
There was definitely a point where I began to lose all sense of time and space and it felt like I’d died and this was my hell, running endlessly down lakeshore drive as 75 year old women and 14 year old cross-country runners sprinted past me screaming with joy.
This is how Saturday and Sunday went for me:
- Saturday night, I was “in bed” by 720 and asleep by 830.
- Stax got home from her sister’s gallery opening at 130am…which turned out to be 30 minutes before I’d woken up.
- 2am I awoke from a light sleep and started my prep. I drank a cup of coffee and started to stretch half because I needed to and half because I wanted to poop before I got down there. (HORROR STORIES OF PEOPLE POOPING THEMSELVES MID OR POST RACE. I REFUSED TO POOP MYSELF…REFUSED)
- Got down to Belmont and Sheffield at 320 am to wait for the shuttle. Berlin and other bars were just starting their night as I ate oatmeal in the window of the Belmont Cafe slowly becoming more and more terrified.
- Got down to the race near 63rd and just hung out waiting for the race to start
- 7am – Race time
They sit us in bins waiting for the race to start, I was in the last one. Bin “N”. “N” for “No god, no. What have I gotten myself into”
And then I started…
Now, I’m a run farter. I fart when I run…come on it’s natural. Everyone does it, but it’s hard in a race scenario because of how many people there were. I’d run about 8 miles before I was able to find a brief reprieve and let one go. A few moments later I felt a drip on my right calf…
Luckily (or unluckily, depending how you look at it) my butt was just really sweaty so the drip I felt was just sweat…butt sweat. That was probably one of the more exciting parts of the race.
I did well until about mile 10. People told me all I needed to do was run 10 miles in prep because the “adrenaline would carry me through the last three miles”.
This. Is. Bullshit.
As I passed mile 10 I kept waiting and waiting for that adrenaline to kick in and nothing came. Honestly, if my kid were trapped under a car I’d not be able to save them if what I felt was adrenaline. In fact, only seeing Stax and A and E at the finish line gave me any sort of boost at all…and even that was short lived.
When I crossed my hands immediately began to tingle and I lost feeling so I just sort of stopped and stared at them for a moment, half in amazement of what I’d just done and half wondering who I was and what “fingers” were.
Eventually a guy in a vest came over and said “Hey…you good?” I told him yes, but he insisted I sit in the med area where another woman was soaking in a kidding pool and three dudes were icing their feet. Eventually after a bottle of water and the realization that fingers are important to my future as a human, I left to meet up with Stax and the gang.
Here are some pictures:
Look at that medal. I mean, it’s huge. It looks even bigger on smaller people…also, there were so many banana peels. Like it could have easily turned into a master class on prat falls if people weren’t careful.
Well, that’s that. I know, a long post, but it was a long run. I will do another one, and honestly if I can do it. Anyone can. It’s a great feeling of accomplishment and if you’re feeling up to the challenge I encourage you to try it too.