This weekend, I had the opportunity to travel to Philadelphia to catch up with an old friend and run my first half marathon. To be honest, this wasn't a race I was super excited about. I mean, I wasn't dreading it, but this was never really my goal race; it just fit nicely into my training schedule and was a good opportunity to take a mini-vacation. However, I still wanted to do my best.
There was a pretty major hitch in my plans starting the week of the race. Namely, I got sick. Not the worst of illnesses in the whole world, but I did come down with a virus that's being passed around which left me congested, tired, and with a killer sore throat. But I'd already committed to a weekend in Philly, and paid the exorbitant entrance fee, so I sucked it up and planned on completing the race regardless of how I was feeling.
The day before the race was awful - I didn't sleep well the night before and that was when the worst of my sinus pressure and congestion hit me. After spending the morning at the exhibit hall and then spending the afternoon touring Philadelphia, Cristin and I headed back to the hotel to rest for a little while. I ended up falling asleep and woke up feeling like I was hit by a truck. I took a super hot shower, which helped clear things up, but it wasn't looking good going into the race the next morning.
I had been praying that the Lord would grant me improved health by Sunday morning, and sure enough, I woke up feeling much, much better, but nowhere close to 100%. We got up early, ate a healthy breakfast, and then headed over to take pictures at the Rocky statue and run up the art museum steps before the race. Then we slowly made our way into our corral and waited until they let us start the race.
I started running and quickly sunk into a comfortable 10:30 mm pace. It was a little quicker than I'd been running, but it was a nice, cool morning, and the race route was really flat. I didn't feel like I was pushing myself too hard, so I just trusted my effort level. I was able to keep up that pace for the first half of the race, still feeling strong. My throat hurt, and I felt like my head was in a cloud - I had no awareness whatsoever of anything around me - but I felt good breathing-wise and leg-wise. At about the 9-mile mark, things started going downhill.
Runners know that a large portion of the ability to perform in races is having the mental toughness to push yourself when you want to quit. Probably because I had been sick and hadn't been sleeping well, my willpower was just not all there. Just before I hit the mile 10 marker, I stopped to take a break. The break ended up lasting 2 miles. I am pleased to say that I did pull it together to run in the last mile, and I ended up coming in right at 2 hours and 30 minutes. Had I been able to just slow down a little and jog those two miles, I probably would've made it in 2:22, but at least I'll know what I'm capable of for my next half-marathon.
