I went to work and finished by 2PM. I went home and prepared to do something epic. I scratched a note for my wife, it read, "Went running, keep your phone handy. Heart J."
For the last three years I have run at least one half-marathon. Some call it a half, others refer to it as a mini. I prefer half but neither feels too good coming out of my mouth. I never like having to qualify the distance with half or mini. I plan on competing in a full-Ironman in September that ends with a marathon distance run, and I have felt a tad bit uneasy about that being my first marathon. Saturday, I decided that September would be my second marathon, not the first.
I packed a Camelbak full of water, two bananas, power bars, wallet, keys, and one phone I was hoping not to use. I drove to the bike trail and headed South. My plan was simple, run 13.1 miles, turn around and make it back to the car. The furthest I have ever run is about 13.5 earlier this January.
I took off with a very conservative pace, about a 9 minute mile with a heart rate of 150 bpm. If I didn't pay attention to my speed I would creep into the 8:30 pace which is too fast to last for me. The miles went very slowly, by mile 6 I started to wonder if this was a bad idea. It was raining pretty good and I had no idea if I was heading into a storm.
I had not told a soul of my plan, so turning around and ending up with my monthly half-distance training run would have been a respectable accomplishment to anyone, except myself. I kept running, every once in awhile I would think of Forrest Gump and how he to ran without much of a plan. The rain died down and I had the trail to myself. I made it to Bellville and stopped to get in my Camelbak. I grabbed a banana and consumed it in 30 seconds easy. I used the facilities and continued South. It was getting real now. I was past the 10 mile mark and I knew that turning around now would make a 20 mile run. If I kept going, I would need to run a 5K, turn around and run another 5K just to get to where I am right now. After that I would still have ten more miles!
I kept running and hit the 13.1 mile mark at 2hrs 4mins. I was hoping for 2 hours but had not factored in stops, so this was pretty good.
The run back was hard, but I was determined not to be defeated in my head. It was okay if my legs gave out, but I wanted to stay positive and mentally strong. My pace slowed considerably, no shock there. I was now running up hill with less than fresh legs. I broke up the rest of the run into 6 segments, making the completion of each a small victory. My left Achilles tendon was tight, my right knee felt like it was full of fluid, and I had a nagging pain in my back. When I analyzed the pain I decided none were too uncomfortable and I proceeded North.I reached the finish with no fanfare, the packed lot where I parked contained my car and one other. There was no arch to run under, no vuvuzelas sounding, no announcer mispronouncing my name, and no wife to hug at the finish. There was just me, with a big old smile on my face. I bent over and placed my hands on my knees truly amazed that I had just run 26.2 miles! It was only then that I realized I could run that far. I don't think there was a single second in those 4+ hours that I believed it was possible. I never walked and only stopped long enough to open that backpack.
I will ride his high for a while and build on it. Training is great, but sometimes milestones are necessary to keep things fresh and mark one's progress. Saturday I joined the grownups table with a FULL marathon. Man, does it feel great to use the word FULL!
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