Shortly after I got into endurance running, I was training for a spring marathon-- this is when we lived in Milwaukee, pre-kids. I trained a lot in the Petite Center (indoor arena) and I was putting up some mad, crazy, fast numbers (for me). It got my hopes up (high) for my upcoming marathon. So when said marathon came along, I went out quick, strong and way, way too fast. I hadn't taken into account that my training in an indoor arena would not equate to running a race in the wind, with hills, etc. and I bonked. Hard. I hated the race. Had the worst second half (probably to date) and never wanted to do that again. What I disliked more than the race was the feeling I felt of failure. I hadn't met my time goal I set out for myself.
Since, I have run numerous races and triathlons, but all with the intent on "finishing". I started choosing my goals not by how fast I could complete something, but just getting it done. While this is a worthy goal, I think I have decided it is time to push myself a little harder.
So that was what the Pueblo Half Marathon was about. I have been training my endurance for the last year and lately have been working on speed as well. I wanted to put the two together and see how I could pull it off. And I did.
The half itself was a beautiful run. You run two laps around the zoo (2 miles), then head out on a trail along the river. It was a rolling course, not bad at all. A little more downhill on the way out and uphill on the way back.
As for how I raced, normally I settle into what I know I can comfortably hold and then try to pick it up at the end. Today, I settled into what I thought was my limit, with the intent of pushing myself even harder at the end. So, with that in mind, I went. I went and went and went. The miles ticked by and I just tried to keep pushing myself, while also being smart about it.
Along the route, you hit mile 8, circle around a dam and head back to the start. It was about there I tried to pick it up a little more. I can do 5 miles of this, I thought. By mile 9 I realized that the "pack" was thinning out. In fact, it was really thin. And, on top of that, there were even fewer women out there. Hmm... I may just be doing ok in this race.
Mile 9.5 a guy passed me. This was weird to me and I realized no one had passed me yet, I had been doing all the passing. While I was happy to make this realization, I noted what that guy looked like and kept going at my pace.
As the miles got to the end, I just kept pushing harder and harder. I had the women in my sites and just kept picking them off one by one. This got hard, since there were fewer women and farther apart. I got to a point where I saw no more women, so I shot for trying to pass men. This worked and I just kept feeling stronger. At the very end, I spotted the guy who passed me at 9.5 miles. He heard me coming (the breathing) and he picked it up. I didn't think I could hang with him so I hung back. About 200 m to go though, I felt the adrenaline and I kicked it to the end, passing him. We congratulated each other on a great race, I stretched and headed for a cool-down run.
OK, I'll say it: I was pretty proud of myself. For once, I put it all out there. Fear of failure, fear of bonking, fear of not being able to meet my time goals-- I overcame them all this day. I know that this won't always be the case. There will be days when I fall short, there will be races when I DO bonk, there will be times when it doesn't go so well and I need to use those as learning experiences, not deterrents to my goals.
How did I finish? 1:45:25. 5th place in my age group. 21st women overall. That is pretty good for me. Really, the stats don't mean so much to me as the fact that I know I couldn't have done any better, and that is all I can ask for myself.

























