Fiesta Bowl Half Marathon

This half marathon was a test to see if could break a 2003 half marathon time of 2:19. That half marathon was my first. Since then subsequent half marathons I slogged through either because they were at the end of a 56 mile bike ride hurtfest in a half ironman or because I didn't have the mental or physical conditioning to go any faster. That was before I became friends with my old friend Pain.

I was pretty sure I could bet the 2:19 time, but I wasn't sure by how much. The plan was to run at a level three, which was I'm uncomfortable, but I can stand it. The question was how long I can stand it and if I can keep my pace at that level, which was about 9:30 minutes per mile for me. I had done it in training, but not for thirteen miles. It was new territory for me. I had never gone that fast for that long before.

My long runs in training had sucked for the most part. Long runs are supposed to be run slower, but I couldn't even make the minimum heart rate I was supposed to be at, which was 137. A two hour run in Phoenix in August just plain sucks. At this time of the year, I would have to get up at dawn, which was fivish, just to make it bearable. It was still 85-90 degrees out. I just don't run that well at dawn. My body just doesn't want to move. I am tired and hot. On one run, I saw bats flying around, which confirmed to me that I was up way too early.

As the fall wore on, the weather got better, but not the runs. Out of six two hour runs, only two were decent. One time I was sore from a race and it hurt to even move. Another time I was sick and had no stamina. Finally by November, I knew I had to push in order to get to the level that I wanted to be. I finally got up to the heart rate level I was supposed to be at, but the pace was only eleven minute miles for two hours.

So this race was a great unknown. The conditions were great. The course is flat and it was cool, but not cold. My plan was to run at level three, which was about a 146-153 heart rate for me.

First mile was 9:45. That was not great, but acceptable. My heart rate monitor read 207. Damn! It was obviously not accurate. I tried putting spit on the chest reader to fix it, but it didn't work very well.

Miles two-five were a 9:30 minute per mile pace. At this point, I could still do math in my head. There was mile markers for every mile, so I could figure out what pace I was going at. I don't have one of those fancy GPS watches, so I have to go low tech.

By the 10k mark, I was down to 9:34 minutes per mile. This was getting tedious. But it was going well and I was actually doing this. I was excited and bored. My body felt O.K. at this point. I was eating gels which taste like flavored phlegm to keep my energy up. I only use them when I am running, because it is hard to eat anything else.

By mile seven, my ability to multiple 9:30 minutes by seven was wavering. I was passing my the mile markers and thinking I was still losing time. It was more confusing because the time on the clocks was race time and not the actual time that I went over the start line. This must be the black hole of half marathons, like mile four of a 10k. You are far enough to feel crappy, but it isn't close enough to the finish that you feel encouraged.

By mile ten, I was at 1:35. That was easy to multiply. It was awesome because I had never run ten miles that fast. I braced myself mentally, because now it was time to speed up and meet my friend Pain. Of course my heart rate monitor was reading 88. I had to go on how bad I felt to gauge my effort. At least I was closer to the end.

It really hurt to speed up, but I was actually able to. If you pace a race right, you should be able to speed up at the end, but usually it takes a lot of focus and pain tolerance. I just wanted to be done at this point. The path went under a road, then up and did it again. These were the only real "hills" in the course, but I hated it. These last 3.1 miles were really seemed to go on forever. I passed people just for the distraction. It's fun to pick off people in a race.

My multiplication skills had failed at this point, so I just kept running hard. It wasn't 5k hard which is "I wish I was dead" heart rate zone, but my heart rate was in the 160's-170's, which is my "I just want to stop" heart rate zone.

I finally hit the finish line at 2:04:09. The last 3.1 miles I averaged 9:12 minute miles. I felt like I had been hit by a bus and couldn't breathe, but otherwise I felt wonderful. It wasn't even fast enough to place in my age group, but I didn't really care. I had done what I wasn't sure I would be able to do and it was an exhilarating high. I felt happy, something I haven't felt in a while. My life may be falling down a black hole, but for the moment I could forget about fear and doubt and depression and just bask in the moment. It's a high that probably a lot of racers seek, but you don't always get it with every race or even with more than a few races over your lifetime.

The high will probably be over in a few days and I will be sore as hell tomorrow, but right now I don't care. Everything went right for a change. I broke a barrier, and maybe someday I can do even better. I'll have bad training days and races that go miserably wrong. But it's still fun to chase the high.