Sunday, I rolled out of bed at 4:30 a.m. to run the Eugene Half-Marathon. I've been training since February and I was actually really excited for the day to finally be here. The year before, my stomach was doing sickening flips all day, so it was nice that those nerves didn't make an appearance until an hour before the start.
I know that I'll never be an 'elite' runner, so my goals for the race weren't too lofty. Main goal: FINISH. I didn't care how; running, walking, limping or crawling, as long as I crossed the finish line, that's all that mattered. Second goal: finish faster than last year. As I've mentioned before, I'm a little bit competitive. While I've accepted the fact that I won't be running a 7 minute pace anytime soon, I wanted to at least prove to myself that three months of running 20-30 miles a week actually paid off.
The first three miles were really good. I was keeping a pretty steady pace and I only planned on walking when I got to the aid stations (which are spaced out every few miles). A little bit before the third mile marker, my left knee started to tighten up. This wasn't anything new, but usually I stop when I start to feel it. I figured it would pass and waited until the first aid station to try and stretch it out. I hoped that it wouldn't get any worse, but soon the pain spread up to my hip and then I could barely bend my knee enough to keep the bottom of my shoe from scraping the pavement. I tried the best I could to only stop when I absolutely had to, but my pace really slowed down and by mile 10 I had tears in my eyes because it hurt so much. I wanted to finish strong though, so when I got into Hayward Field (which is where the finish line was), I gave it all I got and went into a sprint for the last 200 meters and finished 15 minutes faster than I did the year before. When I say "gave it all I got," I really mean it: the second I started walking, every muscle in my left leg pretty much froze and my right leg, which I'd been favoring for the past 9 miles, started to express its anger as well. I did manage a smile though, since I could cross both my goals for the race off my list (and I crossed the finish line upright, no less!). I wandered through the finishers area like a zombie for awhile before I headed to get a plate of post-race pancakes. The one good thing about all of the training, I don't feel as nauseous as I used to after a long run, so I was able to get a few bites down and get my energy back up.
Despite the pain, I limped over to Starbucks to get coffee (hi, I'm a caffeine addict) and came back to the track to wait for my mom, who was running the marathon. Maybe it was the sudden drop in endorphins/adrenaline, whatever, but I did feel kinda sad that no one was there to cheer me on at the end of the race. Everyone else seemed to have people in the stands waiting with signs and manic screams of encouragement, and I didn't get any of that. I know if Tiffany hadn't been camping for work she would have been there to cheer me on to the finish, so I can't feel too sorry for myself, but still...it would have been nice to hear someone cheering for me in the stands.
Even though I'm still limping around a day later, I'm really happy about this race. I can't complain, I was 15 minutes faster than the year before even with a bum knee! The next race I'd like to do is the Disneyland Half-Marathon on September 5th, but since I'm currently without an income, I'm thinking it will most likely be the Eugene Women's Half-Marathon around the same time. Right now though, I'm just concentrating on letting my knee heal so that I'll be able to go out on runs to de-stress during bar prep. I have a feeling I'm gonna need that outlet...
P.S.-My camera died pretty early on while I was waiting for my mom to get in, so I only got two pictures of the finish area. The race photographers will post pictures in a few weeks, and hopefully there aren't too many of me looking like I'm in excruciating pain (not even gonna lie, every time I saw what looked like one of the photographers, I tried to look like I was having the time of my life).
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