13.1 Miami Beach - March 2, 2014

I came back from The Disney Glass Slipper Challenge/Princess half marathon weekend in pain. A lot of foot pain. So I shouldn't have been surprised when I visited my orthopedic surgeon for a follow up on my foot a couple of days later, he would tell me to lay off the running again. He said I could walk any distance as long as I was in the boot for more than just wandering around the house and running short errands... so I had a decision to make.

I already "paid" for my entry into the 13.1 Miami Beach race, it was money already lost (though I work promotions for US Road Sports in exchange for race entries, I still think of it as money). If I stayed home in the comfort of my own bed, I'd be out the money, and out whatever miles I might have otherwise gotten in for my yearly goal. If I strapped the boot on and went, I would surely be swept.

I struggled for days trying to decide what to do. I didn't want to be swept, because really, does anyone want to be swept from a race? I mean, really, its not on my top 10 list of things to want for when thinking about an upcoming race. The more I stewed on it, the more it terrified me.

But what did I really have to lose?

So early on March 2, my friends Tracey and Seth came to the house and picked me up, strapped into my lovely miserable walking boot... and one simple goal.

I would bust my butt to get going as quickly as possible, and I wouldn't be swept until mile 4, because surely getting swept was in my very near future. Tracey joked that she thought I would make it to mile marker 8 before being swept, but I knew better. There was no way in H-E-Double-Hockeysticks I would make it that far. My money was firmly on four miles.

We got to the starting line fairly quickly, and the race started without a hitch. I started a little further up in the corralling system than I had intended, and was hyper aware that I needed to pull to the side a bit to let faster runners past. And then I saw a familiar face around 1/2 mile. I knew Karen from a group on facebook, and she provided me an immediate distraction from my pain, and we quickly started banking miles. Before I knew it, we were giggling our way across the second bridge, approaching mile marker 4, and she was bidding farewell to me.

I took that opportunity to look behind me to see if there were still people there, and it looked like I was still in the clear for awhile before getting swept. Tracy's words rung in my head... Could I make it to 8 miles before being swept? There were still plenty of people behind me... And they didn't seem to be gaining much ground. Then again, I was maintaining a strong 16:30 pace.

But I was also getting my cadence down. I was lugging a bunch of extra weight in the form of my boot. I could feel my booted foot swelling, and my toes starting to go a little numb. I readjusted the air compression in the boot, but that didn't seem to help. At mile 6, I was ready for another readjustment.

I bent down, readjusted, and stood up ready to start hefting my weight forward again. Slow and steady. And suddenly, not 5 steps forward, I got a shooting pain deep into the inside of my bad ankle. It felt like something was stabbing me with a meat cleaver. The pain was so intense, it nearly brought me to my knees. I struggled for breath and tried to stand up straight to maneuver to the curb, but the tears started like waterfalls. A spectator came over and offered me a hand. I ripped the boot off, stretched a little, packed my sweatband into my boot for extra cushioning, and breathed. A couple I had chatted with early in the race passed me at that point, and the woman gave me a sad look and told me that there was "no shame in getting swept."

She was right, there wouldn't be any shame in getting swept today, but it would have to happen after 8 miles. I was determined. I wanted to yell and scream every curse word under the sun at her, but I didn't. I just gave her a sad look and shrugged.

The pain subsided briefly and I decided it was time to get up and moving again. So step by excruciating step, I was once again on my way. From that point forward, every police officer I passed, every spectator, every cheerleader or bandmember I passed, they were all rooting for ME!

The sweatband in my boot wasn't helping much and I stopped to get a stack of gauze padding from the fire rescue truck around mile 7.5. I was losing time. With each and every time I was stopping to readjust, more and more people were passing me, narrowing the gap between me and the sweepers. At mile 7.5, I was dead last. I caught up to the girl in front of me, and we slowly started to bridge the gap between us and the girl in front of us.

At mile 8, we were approaching the last 2 bridges. I was in horrendous pain through the inside of my ankle, and the boot was causing some serious bruising, but there was no SAG wagon in sight. I wasn't about to stop and wait for one, so I soldiered on.

And then, at mile 9.33, what I had been waiting for all day.... I was approached by a police officer who told me that the van was right behind me and would be picking me up. And I had intended to respond with "OK," but what came out instead was a firm "no." I stammered and rephrased more politely "not today, thank you."

He looked at me shocked and asked what I meant by that. And while continuing to walk, I told him calmly but clearly "well, you aren't in the business of kidnapping any more than I'm in the business of being kidnapped. So thanks, but no thanks." he laughed and shook his head before driving to the next person. The bus drove off without stopping to pick me up.

What on earth was I thinking?

The police officer came back at mile 9.9 and pulled right up to me. "i know, i know. you don't want to be kidnapped, BUT move off to the sidewalk and the sweepers can't collect you. I'll let them know at the 10 mile mark that you are still out on the course."

And so it happened. I hit the 10 mile mark and the part of the course that veers off of the streets and through the pier and the park. I struggled with each step, but I knew that I was completely safe from sweepers. I didn't care how long it was going to take, I was going to finish. So what if there was no medal? So what if the finishline was already broken down? So what if there was no more beer or party? I was going to finish with my head held high.

Getting swept? Sure it would happen someday, but today wasn't that day.

The last half a mile brought me down Miami's ocean drive. I was on the sidewalks at this point, and fighting with the beach crowds, and large families out for a Sunday stroll. It was tough going, but they all easily cleared a path for me as I came through. Tears once again welled in my eyes, as I realized the hurdles that I had overcome.

I had done it. I had completed my 20th (lifetime) half marathon.

And I would be a different person because of it.

Chip- 3:50:35
Pace- 17:36/mile

Miami Half Marathon- Feb 2, 2014

I normally wait a couple of days after a race to do a race report but I wanted to write this post earlier in hopes that I don't forget some of the craziness that ensued. If you didn't know it, I absolutely love the Miami Half Marathon. Absolutely. Love. It. It was my second half marathon when I started this crazy running journey, but it was the half marathon that made me fall in love with the half distance. I also do some promo work for USRS and know that they are a really well run organization. I was so excited to be returning for another year!

They got a new sponsor this year, so it was no longer called the ING and instead was sponsored by people I'd never really heard of. But knowing that the company facilitating the race had such a great reputation, I still trusted them that they would put on a top notch showing. I was excited. Again, have I mentioned that this is my favorite half marathon ever?

We got there early and heard rumors later that parking had been a fiasco. We pulled into a private $10 lot about a block north of the starting line. We were a little later arriving than I had wanted, but stupidly, halfway through the drive from my house to downtown Miami, I realized that I had left Brina's bib on the table near my front door. So we had to take a half hour detour and head back to the city. I think that was why we jumped at the first available private lot, and in the end, it was probably what saved us from the congestion that kept others waiting to get into the municipal lots for close to an hour. How's that for a plot twist?

Anyway, we got there and hit the restrooms inside the American Airlines Arena, and waited for the other Half Fanatics for a group photo. Somehow, Brina and I lost Seth. We waited for him until the last minute before heading to the start corrals, but we didn't actually see him again until he passed us about half a mile into the course. Silly boy.

On the causeway

I should have known that there was something off during this race when they started the race 8 minutes late. That may not seem like a big deal, but in a city where you have to time races perfectly to finish them without expiring your permit to keep the drawbridges from going up, that is kind of a big deal. THEN, the corrals took much longer to clear than i thought. Brina and I didn't start until the gun time was already up in the 30 minute mark. The sun was already coming up and the course was already heating up. We paced awhile with a couple other half fanatics, and as we began the incline on the first bridge around 2/10 miles in, I rolled my bad ankle.

In talking with the podiatrist recently, we've determined that I have great bone structure in my feet but the high arches will make it far easier for me to roll my ankles now because I already have a good deal of weakness. Which is interesting because I rolled my ankle on NOTHING. and had the jersey barricades not been flanking the road, I surely would have face planted. A LOT of people reached out to me to help me steady myself and asked what happened and what I tripped on, and I felt like an idiot. I tripped over NOTHING.

But then I was really shaken up. I kept going, but was really worried. I had just rolled the ankle that left me laid up the last 2 months. I wasn't having heel pain, and there was no issue in the pocket that was bothering my in the ankle either, but I was really worried.

We kept at it. But my head was reminding me to take it easy and focus on finishing not on time. Over the bridge we went, and through the causeway. and then I started coughing. having been so sick recently, I never kicked that lingering cough. I couldn't seem to catch my breath, and Brina slowed down to check on me. She suggested inducing vomiting to help clear my throat, which took awhile but it did make me feel better.

My new road treasure

When I was done, she sidled back up to me and told me she had a piece of "road treasure" for me. We know she likes to collect pennies, so she picked this little trinket up for me on the road thinking it was a penny and thought I could use it. It sounds really dumb, but that meant the world to me.

It was getting really warm, and it was really humid, and there wasn't a water stop in sight. I think the first water stop was 3 miles in... which I think is a little more than slightly inappropriate.

And we kept at it. Over the second bridge and through the condo area heading to Ocean Blvd. And as I was doing my running intervals, I was acutely aware that there was some distance building between she and I. She wasn't going really fast, I was just really off my game. And I was still scared. I told her to go enjoy her race because it wouldn't be any fun for her to feel like I was lollygagging, and it certainly wouldn't be any fun for me to be dragging behind her at a snails pace cramping her style. It was hard to see her leave, but I had developed a new game plan.

I was going to walk as much as I needed to, and I wasn't going to beat myself up over time. I was going to finish, and I wasn't going to get hurt. and I was going to enjoy myself out there.

That's Adam in the purple off to the left of the shot

Somewhere along Ocean Blvd, I met up with Adam, a running friend who is a TNT coach who was pacing someone who was going about my speed. I know Adam from the bridge repeats group that I was active in before this foot issue got really bad and I was banned from running on concrete, and it was nice to catch up with him. We stuck together until mile 8 when I had to stop and stretch my back out and then couldn't catch back up.

The water stops weren't frequent enough, and I really took issue with the fact that they seem to just give volunteer opportunities to any high school student with community service hours. By the time I was around mile 8, they were joking around, having water fights (WITH MY WATER) and blocking the entire right of way for runners. At one point, there were so many kids in the path that I had to ask them to move out of my way, at which point, a kid thought I said "Give me gatorade" (because that sounds just like "get out of the right of way") and I crashed into him, got gatorade all down my front and sent him to the ground. Sorry kid, if it was my fault and I hadn't just done 8 miles and you had been smart enough to understand etiquette, I might have helped you up, instead he got an over the shoulder "so sorry" as I trekked along.

And then I met up with Farah, an amazing woman I have paced with at races when she was having a bad go of it. It was funny, I heard her calling out to me from behind and she gave me some cheesy line about how great I was doing and how much that SHE was inspired BY ME. It really was awesome. She knew I was struggling. So she paced me to the end. And from the point I met her around mile 8, to the end, I needed all the help I could get.

First It got really muggy, then the roads started to get really slick from the humidity. Then it got really dark... and we all know what comes next. TORRENTIAL downpours. It cooled me off and felt amazing for about the first 10 minutes, but it lasted probably 2 miles. and it made the ground like a skating rink (this is normal in South Florida), and the cups and water station waste turned into a combination of slick goo and squishy muck. We got waterlogged and we slowed down even more because I was worried about messing up my foot again.

And just like that, the rain was over and we were about to hit the drawbridge signalling that we were at mile 11. I was stoked. We started up the ramp, and wouldn't you know it...

THE DRAWBRIDGE WENT UP.

And it COST ME 7 minutes of valuable time.

By the time it came down,  I was ready to jog in the last 2 miles... but standing around zapped my energy. Totally NOT cool.

But we joked that we would get the same really awesome medal as everyone else when we crossed the finish line and we were excited about the medal this year. Before we knew it, we rounded the final corner and heard the crowds roaring for us all as we crossed the finish line, and we had done it.

But we got to the end of the chute to find out that they RAN OUT of medals. I tried to pass it off like this has been known to happen sometimes at bigger races, and that it wasn't a big deal...

But it hurt, and standing around at the finish like and seeing everyone walking around in their medals just made it hurt all the more. I didn't even get a post race drink, we borrowed someone's medal for a quick photo op as we left the post race area, but I just wanted to get out of there. I was so sad I wanted to cry.

It shouldn't be a big deal, but to me it was. Logically I recognize this as a first world problem, but that didn't make it any less sad.

So after towel drying off at the car and changing my shirt, I walked to a gas station and got a beer and drank it in the parking lot out of a paper bag. cause nothing says despair like drinking a beer out of a paperbag in the middle of the day in a parking lot.

Totally a not flattering picture, but without a pic, it didn't happen.

Clearly not my best time, but also not my worst. I feel like I've been hit by a truck, but I finished my first race back since early December. I hear a lot of people didn't finish this race.

Gun 4:29:07
Chip: 3:51:34
Pace 17:41
Division 1276/1292
Gender 7669
Overall 15189


Time to start training again.

13.1 Ft. Lauderdale - November 10, 2013

One of my side jobs is that I do some promotions work for US Road Sports at local events, and in exchange I get complementary entries to their local events. This year, I wanted to take full advantage of this opportunity and complete all 5 of the races in the Florida Storm Series to obtain their special Category 5 finisher's medal.

The first race of the season for the Storm Series was 13.1 Ft. Lauderdale, and I was stoked. What I love so much about Ft. Lauderdale races is the amount of time that we actually spend running on sea wall and the spectacular views. I joined my dear friend Seth for the race and we sadly were minus our third in the trio as Brina was unable to make it... which I knew might be hard for me as Brina is so good at pacing me and that meant I would be on my own for the duration.

With Seth at the start. Yes it will be a good day.

But sadness over not having my friend there wasn't gonna get me down. I've run half marathons before, I knew that this would just be different. I would use the time to get deep within myself and focus on all of the important things... like why I enjoy the feeling of being at a race. I've been pushing myself for so long to get a PR, that lately I had been feeling like maybe I was losing some of the centering feelings that turned me onto running in the first place. This was a great opportunity to regroup and reevaluate my approach to races.

I arrived in downtown Ft. Lauderdale nice and early and found parking. I got ready in the garage and waited on Seth, then we went to the start line where I had the goal to meet up with a co-worker and friend who was participating in the wheelchair division. After a few obligatory photos (which I wont share because I don't want to share without permission), we headed to the start line. We ran into a few race regulars that I knew and a few old friends, and before we knew it the anthem was finished and the race had started. Seth and I said our goodbyes as we herded through the start corral, and he was off. Me, I surprised myself.

I started really strong. I reminded myself that recently I had learned to take shorter quicker steps to increase my time and reduce my energy output, and felt myself plowing through the first few miles. As I am still a run-walk-runner doing 1min:1min ratios... my overall pace was slower, but I was easily doing 11 minute miles while on my run intervals. I was impressing myself at how strong I felt. And what's more, I had NO FOOT PAIN.

The worst part of the tunnel experience

We ran through the city streets for the first few miles and down through the New River Tunnel, which was very cool. I have always wanted to run a tunnel, but now that I've done it, I don't think I ever want to do it again. The downhill is easy but right before the bottom, the air quality gets bad with poor ventilation and no movement to the air at all. It is hot and humid, and on my exit from the tunnel I felt like I had an elephant sitting on my chest. Thankfully it was a short foray into Tunnel-world and we exited back to the streets where there was a nice breeze.

I was pacing with 2 lovely women and we chatted a little. Turns out that one of them knew me from a group that I am an admin for on facebook, and we were able to enjoy our time together (I actually ran into her yesterday at a football game and I think I'd like to continue a run-panionship with her, but I digress).

Horrible photo of me with my new Run-panion, Kim

I think the tunnel and my pet chest-sitting-elephant caught up to me somewhere around mile 5... I saw these women pulling away from me a bit as we hit the beach, but I wasn't running for time (remember, this was a regroup race), so I was OK with that. I felt myself slowing down a bit, but with each moment of slowing down, I felt my joy for running and my positive thinking increasing. How different it was to run for me and not for the clock.

4 miles north on the beach, then 4 miles south to the finish-line, and the finishline was in sight. Seth ran over to me about 50 feet from the finishline and told me that he was going to bring me in (I LOVE when he does this), but he had to stay out of the chute, and I pushed full steam ahead. I was exhausted, but it was over. And I felt great.

I never steal photos, but with a pic like this...

That is... until I crossed over the mat and I revisited the huckleberry hammer gel that I had around mile 11 and I couldnt clear my airway. Before making it to get my medal, I doubled over choking on this viscous huckleberry flavored nastiness. I couldn't catch my breath and we called for medical who forced 4 bottles of water into me in rapid succession to induce vomiting. The medics stood over me while the color returned to my face and my lips went un-blue. And Seth stood nearby watching, shaking his head and laughing at the fact that I can't seem to push it like that without needing medical.

No PR for me that day... depending on who you ask. Officially, no PR... but my garmin measured the course at 13.38 miles with a pace per mile of 14:56... which would be a 1 minute 5 second PR. I'll take that. Amazing what a no-stress race will do for a person's time.

is this thing real?

OFFICIAL:
Gun-3:21:37
Net- 3:18:43
Pace- 15:10
OA- 2002/2088
Female- 1079/1151
Age- 33.11%

AND I had enough energy left over that Seth and I skipped the shuttle back to our cars and instead chose to walk an additional 5K... guess that is a good 16 mile training session for my upcoming full marathon in January.

P.S. The foot pain returned on the walk back to the car... guess we have learned an important lesson about my feet and concrete. Time to look into cortisone shots.

13.1 Miami Beach - March 9, 2013

Ray and I met Brina through mutual friends while we were at the Run For Your Lives Zombie Infested 5k, and she and I became facebook friends shortly after that. We didn't talk very much and our interaction was minimal, until she noticed how active I was in the Half Fanatics group on facebook.

Brina wasn't a member of Half Fanatics but was intrigued by this group. She had foot surgery last year and was in the process of returning to running and needed some extra motivation, so she requested to join the facebook group (although she hadn't officially qualified for membership).

She had just run the Disney Princess Half Marathon in February, and she needed to meet her 2 in 16 days or her 3 in 90 days requirements if she wanted to join Half Fanatics. She asked me if I knew of any upcoming events.

And as it turned out, I was already registered to run the 13.1 Miami Beach race on March 9th as my 5th half marathon toward my 13 in '13 goal. This race would also fit her criteria of 2 in 16 days to qualify her for membership of half fanatics. She asked if she could join me, my friend Shannon, and Shannon's friend Tracy at this race.

Of course, we said yes.

I liked the idea of getting to spend a little more time with her, but I had alterior motives as well. After my absolutely terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad experience at the Sunshine State Half Marathon... I knew I needed a little extra motivation to get back out there and try again. And what better motivation than to invite a new friend? That way either you suck it up and do well to show how awesome and badass you are, or you fall flat on your face and look like an idiot. I guess it was my own variation of sink or swim, and it wound up working. Really well.

March 9th was another really early morning. Ray (who normally comes out to my half marathons to support me) had a commitment to march in a local St. Patrick's Day parade, so he wouldn't be coming with me. This made me nervous. I had been to races where I was the only one I knew who was running, but I'd never been to a race without my husband being there. Guess there is a first time for everything.

Me with Tracy, Shannon and Brina pre-race.

We parked the car, and made it to the start line. Brina asked what my pace was and what my intervals were (2 min run/1 walk), and asked if she could tag along with me for the first few minutes. Of course! I said, The more, the merrier. I knew she was a *far* faster runner than me and she'd probably die of boredom lagging behind with me by the time we hit the first mile, but who am I to say no?

But then she surprised me.

By the end of the first 0.1 mile, my arch pain and shin pain was acting up. Though I had been to see a general practitioner and an orthopedic specialist, I still hadn't come to a definitive explanation for the Misery-esqe pains that I was having in my feet and ankles... I just knew that it is always worse during my first 2-3 miles. I cringed with every step, and Brina looked seriously concerned. I told her not to worry and explained that I just needed to work through it. Then I told her to leave me behind and go along without me.

Nope. She said. Let me tell you about my last half marathon, she said.

And she did. And pretty soon, I realized my foot pain was gone.

And I was having a really good time.

And we were making really good time. As in, just under 15 minutes per mile.

And that pace continued for close to 10 miles.

The course was fairly straightforward. Starting on Ocean Drive in Miami, north approx 3 miles to the Julia Tuttle Causeway. From there we crossed the bay Miami, then traveled south through the city to the MacArthur Causeway, then back east toward the beach, with the final 2-3 miles through Lummus Park.

At the top of the Julia Tuttle Causeway.

And with Brina, the time just flew by. We spent the morning laughing, sharing, crying, looking for pennies, playing leapfrog and joking around with other runners, and making awesome time. I couldn't help but feel awful that I was holding Brina back by going so slowly, but I rationalized that if I needed to slow down, I would... and I would encourage her to go along without me.

And eventually, when we began the final 5 mile stretch (because I always "break" half marathons down into the first 3 miles, then 2 sets of 5 miles to figure out where I am in the course) my pace began to significantly slow down. The fueling option I had chosen for this race (clif shot blocks) were not sitting well and I began to have some serious digestion issues. Then with the final ascent and descent over the MacArthur causeway, I was revisiting my arch and ankle pain.

Brina's Garmin 305 indicated we were slowing down to almost 16 minutes per mile. I tried to keep going, but felt overwhelmed as every part of my body screamed that something was wrong.

Why is it that everything always seems to fall apart in the final stretch?

I told Brina to go ahead without me as we began the final couple of miles on brick pathways through Lummus park. The brick was unforgiving, and my feet hated me.

I've stayed with you this long... she said, I'm not leaving you now.

And she kept running. She would run a little faster than me. I would drag my pathetic butt behind her for the run interval. then she would slow down and let me catch up during the walk interval. Then she would repeat.

I felt awful. Now I could barely keep up with her, and it was clear that she was slowing way down for me. I asked her again to leave me behind.

No, she said, the finish is right around the corner. Lets do this, she said.

And we did.

And as the finish line came into view, I told her I had a strange request.

Hold my hand? I asked.

And she did.

And we crossed the finish line.

Together.

And it was then that I realized what Ray had been trying to teach me for years. Yes, its nice to be able to say that I did something on my own. But sometimes, its really nice to share that accomplishment with someone else. 



Clock - 3:30:20
Chip - 3:23:42
Pace - 15:24 / mile
OA - 1998/2006
Sex - 938/952

Brina qualified for Half Fanatics and I finished my 5th half marathon with a shiny new Personal Record.

And I couldn't be more satisfied.

ING Miami - January 27, 2013

If I had been gauging all half marathon experiences by my experience at the Disney Half, I'm not sure I would have take a second foray into the world of half marathoning. But I had been doing some promotions work for the folks who promoted the ING Miami marathon and half marathon, and had earned free entry into the race... so why not take advantage of it?

Unfortunately I had a lot going on. I had returned from my first half marathon with the flu. I was supposed to be finishing the final preparations for my doctoral comprehensive exam, but instead I was stuck on the couch for 2 weeks, drinking hot toddies of Honey Jack with lemon, in the hopes that it would quell my cough. Of course I'm an idiot and didn't realize that I had the flu until it was too late for Tamiflu, So I had no choice but to let this sickness run its course.

And I had other stressors in my life too (aside from spending the 2 weeks between Disney and ING wasted on the couch and nursing the sore groin that had acted up at Disney). I was also right smack in the middle of my qualifying exam for my Ph.D. program... an exam which would determine whether I was eligible to begin writing my dissertation or not. This exam was a 3 part exam, each consisting of a 24 hour period, which ran Tuesday, Thursday and Monday. The ING would provide a good study break on the Sunday smack in the middle of the exam period... but it was also an added stress.*

On the morning of January 27th, Ray and I once again woke up at 3:00 am to be out the door and at our friend Shannon's house by 4. On the way out the door, I grabbed my bagel and was upset to realize that we didn't actually have any bananas (which had become a pre-race staple for me). I shook it off thinking no big deal, and made a mental note to plan better next time.

At Shannon's house, we met our friend Steve-Dave, and then we all drove down to Miami together. Parking and finding our corrals was uneventful. We said goodbye to Shannon as she split off from us to find her own corral.

Ray wasn't planning to run the race with me (because he said he would only do one half marathon per year and we already met that quota with the Disney half), but as Steve-Dave declared a similar anticipated finish time, he remained with me until the start of the race.

Steve-Dave and me at the start line.

I was nervous about running another race alone (Steve-Dave would leave me after our corral actually started). I was jittery about running when I'd spent the past few days coughing up stuff straight out of a Mucinex commercial. I was worried that my inhaler just wouldn't cut it. And really? I had to pee???? Why is it that no matter how many times I hit the bathroom before a race, I always have to go immediately before the race is about to start?

I briefly debated running to the port-o-lets, but I knew that I wouldn't have enough time to make it back to Steve-Dave before the start of the race. I thought about just throwing in the towel and not running at all. I wasn't feeling well, afterall. I knew nobody would hold it against me if I decided to just go sit this one out.

But then I thought about it a little more deeply, and reminded myself that I've sat out most of my life. Starting and not finishing is far better than not starting at all.

And so when our corral crossed the start line, I popped a cough drop in my mouth and I started. Steve-Dave had said that because he was a little under-trained, he would hang with me for awhile. But before we even got to the first 0.1 mile to turn onto the MacArthur Causeway, he was already pulling away from me. I told him to go ahead without me, and began the climb. The cough drop was working its magic, and I felt good. The sun rose over the seaport, and we saw the gorgeous view of the cruise ships, and I felt great. I had a little achiness in my groin, but that was to be expected.


The MacArthur Causeway to the beach was long. But somewhere along the way, I managed to get into a groove. I talked to a couple other runners, and we shared some motivational words. I would pass a girl, then she would pass me, then I would pass her again. She would wind up playing a crucial role in my finishing. Everytime that I felt that I was losing pace, I would look around for her and gauge myself by wherever she was. Sure, I had my Gymboss interval timer, but I tend to use other people as markers when I am on a course. Not really ideal, but I haven't been able to break myself of this habit yet.

For the first time ever, I was wearing a skirt (Running Skirt brand). I really liked how regulated my body temperature seemed to be without my usual capris. I had applied liberal amounts of Body Glide between my thighs before the race, but around mile 6, it began to wear off, and I was chafing something fierce. At the mile 7 med stop, I grabbed some vaseline and applied liberally. I hate the feeling of vaseline and until it gets sweaty, I find that it only makes my skin stick more than it actually prevents chaffing. But sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. And at that point, I was getting desperate.

Once that mess cleared up, I got back into a groove. The course was gorgeous. The weather was awesome. Other than the chaffing, I felt really good. Until I hit the Venetian Islands and Causeway heading back toward downtown Miami between miles 8-10. Prior to this race, I hadn't had a lot of experience driving through this area, so running it felt fairly new to me. I had expected a couple of large bridges, but instead, it was like a big joke. I thought that was the last bridge, then suddenly, I had another to run over. Then I thought that was the last one, and then there was another. And on. And on. And on. Forever.

Finally, the end of the bridges was in sight. I was on the descent from the final bridge and on track to beat my Disney time by about 15 minutes, when out of nowhere, my left calf seized up. I took a couple of tentative steps to try to shake it off, but the pain quickly shot throughout my body. Before I knew it, I was seeing myself in slow motion, losing my step and falling to the ground. I didn't have time to put my hands out to catch myself, and it was certain to end in a bloody mess.

And out of nowhere, I feel hands underneath my arms, and a voice over my shoulder saying "I gotcha." The 2 women walked me to a nearby police officer and handed me off to him. He started to radio for help, but I asked him not to. I knew I'd be ok, and I really just needed to stretch my seizing muscle.

After about 5 minutes, I was on my way again, this time resorting to walking. I made a mental note to never skip my pre-race banana again, and maybe not to spend the week before a race dehydrating myself with whisky. I tried my best to shake it off, but the reality was that I was devastated that this was my second half marathon and I found myself (once again) walking the last 3 miles. I had ONE goal in mind when I started this race, and now I was sure that I wouldn't reach it.

All I wanted was to finish this race 2 minutes faster than my Disney 3:35:28.

That would translate to 11 seconds per mile, and up until the cramp incident, it felt like I was going to blow that time out of the water. But now, I wasn't so sure. Now, I'd be lucky if I'd even make it across the finish line.

At mile marker 11, I passed Ray who was cheering me on. He gave me a couple Twizzlers to help boost my morale. Twizzlers on a race are like Mana from the Heavens, and immediately they began to help lift my spirits. Seeing him was really nice too. He is such a supportive, great man.

Another 2.1 miles through the city streets and we were at the finish. Coming into the final chute, I saw the girl I had been using as my pacer during the early part of the race. I plowed through my pain and sprinted to her side. And we crossed the finish line together.

Steve-Dave, Shannon and me after finishing ING

And wouldn't you know, I finished 2 minutes faster than my Disney 3:35:28.

Actually it was over 3 minutes faster.

Chip: 3:32:09
Pace: 16:11
OA: 14312/14878
Sex: 7173/7586
Div: 1226/1274






*The next day, I returned to school to finish my exam. It would be over a month before I got results, but I guess the study break worked... because I passed!