I came. I saw. I ran.

As you may or may not know (since I haven't updated this here blog in four months), I ran a half-marathon this past Saturday.  Perhaps I can blame Training for Months in Order to Run 13 Miles without Dying on the lack of blog communication?  Or perhaps not.

I'll start with the backstory... About a year ago I actually wrote a Facebook note in which I said I was a very happy 5k (3.1 mile) runner and that I never wanted to be more than that.  So what changed?  I'm not entirely sure, to be honest.  I think at some point I realized I enjoyed running enough to want to do it in some form the rest of my life, and so I started exploring and hearing about other kinds of races.  The half-marathon seemed like a challenge, but also something I could do.  When my friend Kristiana said she planned to do the Country Music Marathon in Nashville, I rather grudgingly agreed to train with her.  That was followed by months of more short runs, my first long runs, and my cross training salvation, a weight-lifting class called BodyPump to which I may or may not be addicted.  Yesssssssss...

Anyway, last Wednesday night I traveled to Nashville with Kristiana and the girls.  David and our friend Daniel would follow Thursday night. Rain was in the forecast for Saturday and I was tired. I was not pleased with the way my week was shaping up--the girls got sick the week prior with some ridiculous, hacking-cough-producing virus that I then picked up as well.  Tired as all get out and with that nasty cough to boot, I was, frankly, worried about being able to run at all.

Then on Thursday, the weather forecast took a turn for the worse.  Thunderstorms turned into straight line winds, hail, and possible tornadoes.  My spirit was definitely down.  The race organizers were determined to have this race go off, but as a mom, I had to start thinking, "If they don't call it off, and the weather is that bad, at what point do I have to make the call to not run, since I don't want a tornado ripping through downtown and orphaning my children?"  Okay, maybe I didn't HAVE to start thinking that way, but I did.

Thursday was still nice--I took a 2-mile spin around my in-laws neighborhood since being sick had kept me out of my running shoes for nearly a week.  I was definitely tired.  But I rested and then headed to the West End area of Nashville to meet my old friend Michelle, who I've known since camp in middle school.  Really cute area, and also the starting line for the race.

Friday: head to race expo, park in very old garage and have David take this pic of me, which I like very much:

pick up number, shop the booths, buy cute shirt that says "My sport is your sport's punishment."  Get intimidated by sheer size of crowd running race next day.  See this guy, who happened to be carrying his own harmonica at the race expo, cause really, shouldn't we all?

Nap.  Carb load at Buca di Beppo:

Roxy loving on Kristiana, David loving on Ada (who was eating straight parmesan cheese... grossssss).

Kristiana and Daniel, me and Ada.

Daniel, Kristiana and I then headed to WalMart to buy ponchos and such for race day.  As soon as we left Buca, the weather forecast got so bad, that we just convinced ourselves there would be no race the next day.  It was just full-on red through the whole middle part of the country, and headed straight for Nashville right at race time.  Sigh.

We went to bed thinking that we'd get up at 4:15 for nothing.  But when we woke up, the race was still on and off we went, in the rain.  We covered up with ponchos and even used Glad Press-N-Seal to wrap around our ankles and shoes--this worked GREAT, and I would definitely recommend it to anyone devising a race day stay-dry plan.

Much to our delight, by the time we caught the shuttle bus to Centennial Park, the skies had cleared and as the sun rose, the sky looked gorgeous and... blue!  We did the porta-potty waiting ritual and then headed to the start.  The race started about 15 minutes early to try and give people time to finish before the really bad stuff rolled in, so the start was a bit hairy.  We sent Daniel (fast) to the start, then David (slightly less fast), and then Kristiana and I brought up the rear. It's what we do best. Heh  heh.

By 7:30 we were racing.  I had read a Nashville course description here that had gotten me excited about the course.  I've trained hills, of course, at home--intown Atlanta has got some serious hills!  This description said, basically, that there were two major hills, and the rest was described as 'rolling.'

Thus, I was mentally unprepared, as that person was clearly ON GLUE when they wrote that description.  Like, serious amounts of glue. The Nashville race is hills. Not rolling hills.  Hills.  Hills and hills and hills. Hills the whole way.  By mile 4, I was thinking really ugly thoughts about the writer of that description.  In fact, three days later, I'm still thinking really ugly thoughts about them.

BUT.  The race re-confirmed what I love about distance running.  It's like taking a very intimate tour of a city or area and really getting to know it.  My mother's family is from Middle Tennessee and I spent some time in Nashville back when I produced a red-carpet show for the CMA awards in '04.  But it was totally different to run past the honky tonks, past the recording studios and past the recording labels where so much country music is made and marketed.  There were bands every mile or so, which was very cool too.  And the Nashvillians who cheered us on --thank you!  You definitely helped.

I over-exerted a bit on the out-and-back--the extrovert in me got energized watching all the people going the other way, plus I was hoping to see David, so I was pretty spent by mile 9.  There was also all the bobbing and weaving I had to do to get around the yakking women who run/walk or entirely walk the race together, four abreast, apparently so they can just talk the whole time without any regard for those of us who might need to break through. I hear this is a problem no matter what pace group you start with, but I can only imagine it is worse the further back you start, like I did.  Someone remind me this when I am complaining about speed training next time.  "Lindsay, it will get you in front of the yakkers."

But, onward!  It was about this time that the storm clouds rolled in.  There was already word that race organizers were diverting marathoners off the course early, and I didn't want to get caught not finishing should they do the same with the half-ers.   So on I went.   I learned that, as much as I hate my big legs, they come in handy to power up hills.   Strong.  Even after 11 miles, still strong.  And that the Black Eyed Peas can lift you out of any running-induced energy suck.

Heading over the bridge back to LP field and the finish was pretty cool.  Not as cool:  seeing people collapsed on the side, so close to the finish, but not making it.  Also not cool:  the 17 turns between mile 12 and the finish--every one, such a tease when you are expecting the finish line and then not seeing it.

And then, there it was.  Almost anti-climactic at that point, due to all the turns.  But I crossed it. And I got bullhorned with the message that "Severe Weather with Thunder and Lightning is 10 MINUTES AWAY.  Get your things and GO HOME."

And I got my medal. 

Isn't it pretty?

Then it started raining, hard.  I grabbed some food, made for a tent and managed to find Dave.  Then I almost fainted.  David made me sit on his feet cause I didn't want to sit on the wet ground.  Then I stopped caring about the wet ground and just sat on it.  (The pic above, I took while sitting on the ground.  Which is why you see everyone else's legs.) But I ate and drank and ate and drank and got to feeling better.  Then it was gather the friends, get in the car, and marvel at how the Nashville PD had apparently all gone home and left 36,000 runners to sit in their cars and try and get out of LP field with no direction.  Apparently there were folks who sat there for 2 hours without moving.  Us, we jumped a curb and got outta there. Yeah!

 Tired but clean.

So what's my take?  Will I do it again?

Yes.  Yes I will, Lord willing.  I was very disappointed with my time and I'd like to cut my per mile time waaaay down.  So I have some speedwork to do.  I'm looking at either the Atlanta 1/2 on Thanksgiving or possibly the Phoenix 1/2 in January.  Who's in? (Insert cheerleader kick here.)

And now I'd like to give a shoutout to people who inspired me during the race (as in, these people actually crossed my thoughts when I wanted to quit):  My sister Lesley, who has done a full marathon before; my wonderful husband David, cause he's... wonderful; Jenny, who had a VBAC baby the day before the race; Rachel, who completed a 4  year nursing program in 20 months and graduated the night before the race; Drew, who invented a cool product and has been doggedly marketing the thing with admirable dedication; Kristiana, who has lost 85 pounds and went after this 1/2 marathon like it was her job.  So thanks to you!  Y'all made my feet keep going!  Oh, and shout out to the Black Eyed Peas--pretty sure they deserve some credit too.  Infectious dance pop that keeps even the most tired runner racing.


And a special special thanks to my mother-in-law for taking care of us before and after the race, and for watching the girls while we actually ran the race, too.

Gotta run!  (Get it? Wow, I'm funny)


Lindsay