Half Marathon Race Recap, Part 2

You can read Part 1 of the race recap here.

With each mile marker I pass, my pace remains constant.  I'm so excited that I forget for a while that I'm feeling pretty hungry.  The crowd is great... lots of people are lining the course and cheering us on.  There's been one small hill so far, but nothing compared with the hills on my training runs.  I know that the flatness of the course is giving me some advantages in the speed department.  Hooray!

At mile 6 I take a picture of the mile marker and text it to my friends to let them know I'm almost halfway done.

Around the true halfway point, as I approach mile 7 (just around the time that an hour of running has passed) it becomes clear to me that I'm not going to make it through the race without a re-fuel.  Suddenly the low-blood-sugar feeling intensifies and my pace slows a little bit.  I haven't seen any signs of food at the water stations I've passed so far.

I spy a spectator holding out an open bag of Skittles, gesturing to runners as they pass.  I run over and grab a huge handful, saying, "Thank you!" breathlessly.  I shove the entire handful in my mouth at once and, after feeling sick to my stomach for a minute or two, I start to feel the sugar kick in.  I pick up my pace, but after a mile I start to feel woozy once again.

It's becoming clear to me that, by the time us slower runners have come around, what food the aid stations may have had at one point is now all gone.  I can see energy gu and food wrappers littering the course.

I'm determined to finish this race and I know that food is the only thing that would stop me.  I suddenly see an open package of gummy bears that is strewn across the race course, along with a few jelly beans.    I'm sure all the runners around me thought I was nuts-- and you, my dear readers, are sure to think so too-- but in my moment of desperation, I pick some of the candies up off the ground and put them in my pocket.  These will be my fuel to finish the race.

I'm just past mile 8 and I know this last stretch will be a long one.  I've picked up three gummies and one jelly bean, and I decide to ration them-- I'll consume one at each mile marker until the end of the race.

Mile 8 to mile 9 feels reeeally long.  I have to talk myself out of walking a couple of times.  I know that if I walk, I won't start running again.  I'm not really watching the clock for a while-- just focusing on moving forward.

At long last, I see the mile 9 marker.  I pop that little gummy bear in my mouth and the race course widens with a view of the harbor.  I don't get much of an energy kick from one gummy bear, but it's enough.  My spirits are lifting as the sun shines down and the water sparkles.  My pace starts to climb back up a little.

Around mile 10 (another gummy bear) I get a text from M (he's already finished!)... he tells me there's a small hill in the last mile but encourages me to "own it"!  At this point, I'm giving high fives to any spectator that raises a hand, and giving fist pumps to anyone that cheers-- trying really hard to stay positive.  I'm thankful for all of those complete strangers that cheered us on-- I hope they know how helpful they were!

I conserve energy in miles 10-12, hoping to speed up a little bit in the last mile.  As I reach the mile 12 marker I quicken my pace for a bit, but there's really not much gas left in the tank, despite having just chewed up my last gummy bear.  As I approach the hill I take it steady.  Near the top of the hill I hear, "Abby! Abby! Abby!" and I turn to my left, realizing that I've just passed my sweet girls and Missy & Kirk cheering for me.  I give them a wave and a fist pump and kick it up the rest of the hill.

We're approaching a KFC at the top of the hill, and I hear someone on the sidelines say, "After the chicken bucket, it's all downhill and then the finish line!"  Sure enough, I round the bend by the giant red and white striped chicken bucket, and there's a long downhill stretch.  I lengthen my stride down the hill and let gravity take me.  Around another bend at the bottom of the hill, and I can see the finish line about 1/4 mile off.

I didn't remember doing this until the day after the race when I was talking with my brother... but when I saw that finish line, I screamed and raised my hands in relief and elation.  It's one of those things that would never fit my personality under normal circumstances, but having just run nearly 13 miles, and feeling that crazy trippy runner's high feeling, it just happened without my really having any control over it.  I think I also saw that the clock said something around 2:21... and that meant I would be finishing the race nearly 9 minutes faster than I had expected to, which probably had something to do with the scream that escaped me!  I didn't know if any of the other runners or spectators heard me, and I guess I don't really care.  I did it!

I used up what energy I had left striding out to the finish line, and as I crossed, my throat tightened and tears sprang to my eyes.  I was proud of my time, I had powered through all of my hunger difficulties, and... well... it's pretty hard to put into words the emotion there.  It was an unforgettable experience... a culminating moment of all the reasons why I run, and all of the positive things I have gained from it.  I was very, very thankful.

They were handing out medals and water bottles as we came through the finish.  I walked around, sort of dazed, for a little while, and caught my breath.  Then I called Missy and we found each other.  From then on things were busy as usual, with taking pictures and girls talking over each other and finding the car and getting warmed up and parting with our dear friends.

On the way home I consumed the entire granola packet I had prepared for myself and forgotten to bring to the start line... plus LOTS of other food.  Note to self: better food strategy for the next race.

When we got home, we all enjoyed lots of corned beef, Irish soda bread, and boiled vegetables, and the girls watched Willy Wonka.  Mommy and Daddy were good for nothing but sitting down and eating!

(I should mention that M killed this race.  He finished faster than he expected to, and was even able to pick up pace in the last few miles... the time when most folks burn out.  Awesome!)

As I was tucking the big girls into bed that night, I thanked N for coming and braving the cold and watching Mommy and Daddy race.  My heart was overflowing with gratitude that my girls were able to be a part of this, and for our friends who came and made that possible.

N looked at me with a sweet smile and said, "We enjoyed it, Mama."  Sort of nonchalantly, as if there was no question about whether she would have come.

And that moment was just as special as crossing the finish line.