Half marathon #8 is in the books! On Sunday, I ran the Green Lake Area 13 dot 1 with my sister-in-law and her husband. The appeal of this one was that it was close to home, and scenic. I haven’t been feeling great about training. This whole year has seemed like a wash. However, I’ve put in the weeks and hours and miles, and figured, only goal is finish, upright and smiling.
Saturday night was pizza and an early bedtime. Sunday morning I woke up to…92% humidity. There is nothing worse than a long run in high humidity. It’s hard to breathe. I sweat so bad. The chafing. Oh well. I ate breakfast, drank lots of water, and picked up the in-laws.
We went to pick up our packets and…they had no record of me. I’d registered two months earlier. I had the confirmation email. They had nothing. They were great about it, though, and I got a bib and my fleece in no time at all. Yeah, this race gives runners a long-sleeve zip-up fleece jacket, and it’s nice.
The race started at 8:15 and off I went. The course was awesome. We went through downtown Green Lake (all three blocks of it), along the lakeshore, past the golf course, through the gorgeous conference center grounds, and back. At mile 5, there was this uphill, and it just kept going uphill, and going, and going…that was tough. I’d been walking through the water stops, but this was the point where I decided I would take walk breaks during this race.
And I did. The next 8 miles were rough. I could stop and wring the sweat out of my clothing. There were more (but gentler) hills. The chafing started to burn. By mile 11, my ankle was hurting. I knew this was going to be a personal worst time, and I was totally OK with it.
Mainly because I had the best playlist ever.
At 11.5, a guy about 20 feet ahead of me dropped onto the side of the road. Uh-oh. What pissed me off: the two women between us just passed him up. What the hell, ladies? I’m thinking, “If that’s me, fuck yes I want someone stopping to ask if I’m OK.” So I stopped. He’d cramped up bad. I yelled down the hill to see if anyone had water, and a woman who had some left ran up and gave him her bottle and some Gu chomps. Another person ran up to get a couple bike volunteers. When they arrived – and one went to get a medic – I finally kept going. Man, I felt bad for that guy. To get 11.5 miles and go down…rough.
The last .1 took forever. And ever. I was never quite so happy to see the finish line. Bonus of coming in late in a small race: the announcer definitely gets your name and everyone cheers.
So now, I’m protesting running until the humidity drops. A lot.