I wouldn’t call myself a runner. It’s never felt like a big part of me. But, I have raced in one 10k and three half marathons. This past weekend, I set a personal best at the Cowtown half marathon in Fort Worth, TX. It was fun. It was pain. Let me tell you all about it.
Day of the Race
One brutal aspect of competitive running often goes undiscussed, early start times. The back of my bib (the identifying paper all racers wear) said, “arrive no later than 6 a.m.” And honestly, why would you? After months of training, I couldn’t risk race day going awry. Still, I found that after securing parking at 6:05 a.m., walking up to the starting line, even finding a bathroom and taking some pre-race pictures, I had too much time before the 7 a.m. gun.
I’d suggest giving yourself plenty of time to find parking and warm up, but not too much. A well-rested runner is a good runner. Most races are very well organized. You’ll have a hard time not ending up where you are supposed to be. Get your sleep, plan your parking and show up with a clear idea of where you’re headed.
Although I was a bit sleep deprived Sunday morning, the excitement and rave-vibes kept me going. Nobody brings the energy quite like runners at 6:30 a.m. Racers were taking Fireball shots, blasting music, and warming-up with dances and jogs. My friends and I found our way to our “corral” and waited for our time to run.
Of the half marathons I’ve ran, the Cowtown is incredibly organized. Every race will separate runners by a previously provided expected run time. Do you think you’ll run the half in an hour thirty? Two hours? The organizers will sort runners from fastest expected end time to slowest. This is so that pacers, volunteers who keep a consistent pace for race participants to follow, can easily set a goal time. Also, racers can take timing cues from fellow runners in their group. Sorting also helps with general flow of runners. It would be chaotic to have a sprinter weaving through thousands of slower-paced runners.
Once my corral was called, we migrated to the starting line and started to run. Each bib contains an electronic chip that notes as you cross the starting line, as well as completing the 5k, 10k, and 10 mile markers (if I remember correctly.)
Then you run. Spectators are heavy as you start and reach difficult markers like miles 9 and 12, but can be sparse in the in-betweens. When I lacked that extrinsic motivation, I found it helpful to follow my group’s pacers. But, I didn’t worry about falling ahead or behind. For me, not stopping and completing the race were my primary goals.
The last mile was by far the most devilish, malicious, unholy experience of my athletic life. I was told by a man with a mega-phone at mile 12 (give or take a few tenths of a mile) that it was “all down hill from here.” Despite my experience with the Cowtown 10k the year prior, I choose to believe this speaker wielding man. It was to my detriment. The last mile of the race is uphill. Pure uphill. My shoes felt like combat boots. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was shifting through mud. I recalled all the spin classes I’d ever suffered my way through. For those familiar, my running began to feel like pedaling against maximum resistance on a stationary bike.
That’s when I realized, it was totally okay for this last mile to hurt. I was so close to done. If I passed out or got sick, I’d do it on the other side of the finish line. Crossing over, I was in a trance. Compassionate volunteers handed me water and put a metal over me.
Training
A wise friend said this about our training runs, “these sucky runs make the race possible.” I may be paraphrasing a bit, but that was the general sentiment. And, while not particularly profound, it really helped me embrace the discomfort. It’s tempting to accept running’s difficulties as a reason not to do it. Running is hard. So what? You can still do it! If you want to experience the benefits of running, develop a new hobby, spend more time outside, have a reason to wear cute athletic wear, discover a new community, or just hit the open road, try running. Make peace with the idea that it’s not always cute.
I followed Hal Higdon’s novice plan to train for the half marathon. He is a well-respected running coach and has tons of plans based on experience. In the future, I would follow a plan with a bit more weekly mileage and speed work. But, this starter plan worked well.
My take aways
I loved running the Cowtown half marathon. I was incredibly fortunate to run alongside friends, but I believe anyone can find community in running. There is something very moving and special about working towards something. We all know this on some level. A race is a sort of microcosm of this truth. I felt proud and fulfilled finishing the Cowtown.
Still, I don’t think that every runner should race! It is a great carrot-at-the-end-of-the-stick, but it’s not essential. Some of my highest “runner’s highs” were realizing my own strength on solitary runs, spending time in nature, and grabbing post-run coffee with friends. Being a runner is whatever you make it!