*Edit to add: The reason this didn’t go very well is that I was actually 7 weeks pregnant, but I miscarried a few weeks later.
Half Marathon #32 is in the books.
I posted this on Instagram about the race:
Not every race is going to go perfectly.
I always have one or two races that don’t go the way I had hope, and today’s Skinny Raven Half Marathon was one of them this season.
Being out of my regular routine, catching a cold that was in my chest, not sleeping in my own bed, not eating my regular diet, going into this race under fueled, and doing a trail run that trashed my quads for several days, I knew this might be a struggle. . . and it was.
I was happy to show up at the start line healthy and thankful for another race. And it was also fun seeing so many familiar faces–and meeting new ones!
So while I held back tears of feeling like a failure as I crossed the finish line, I knew I did my best and am still thankful that those who love me could care less what my time or place was.
The Runner’s Plate, Instagram
So while this race was not a race I am most proud of, I did show up, give myself a chance, and walk away knowing I gave it my all on that particular day.
As Craig drove me to the start of the race that morning, I told him, “I don’t even want to do this.” Never ever have I said that before! I honestly thought about not even doing the race because I knew it most likely wouldn’t go well. After all these years, I can often predict within a minute or two my finish time based off how training has been going and how I’m feeling the couple days before the race, and this was no different telling a couple people I thought I’d run around 1:30.
At the end of the day, I still did my best to give myself the best chance I could, and I still ran as hard as I could that day. My thoughts throughout the race were of realism, so not overly positive but not super negative either. I tried to look strong and confident because that does boost my confidence.
The race itself was pretty uneventful, and I ran most of the second half all by myself. At least the course is an out-and-back course, so there were people constantly passing me going the other way on the way back, and I got a lot of cheers, which was a nice distraction.
The course is on a greenway through Anchorage, and the homelessness has gotten so bad that there was a lot of homeless along the course. My friend said it felt like a tour of the homeless camps in Anchorage, and sadly I had to agree. There were a couple times throughout the race my attention was drawn to some homeless activity, and I hoped and prayed nothing bad would happen to me. (Not an ideal thing to worry about during a race–or at any time for that matter). There were smells of campfire and other potent aromas that made breathing during the race not so pleasant. I know a couple of the other half marathons run this trail in the opposite direction that has less homeless camps, and at this point it seems best to switch this route to avoid this area of town.
My splits throughout the race varied from 6:39 (downhill) to 7:15 and 7:17 (uphill), unfortunately. I thought I might be able to squeak out a sub-1:30 when I passed the halfway mark right around 45 minutes as I knew the course has some gradual downhill on the way back, but my body was fighting to stay in it.
The last mile was a bit rough when my “labored breathing” really kicked in, and I was gasping for air. The sizeable hill a half a mile from the finish line didn’t help, but this tells me I’m working as hard as I possibly can on that day.
As I crossed the finish line in 1:31 and change, my eyes started to well up with tears as I felt like a failure for running “so slow.” I 100% realize that my pace and times are ones that others only dream of, but to be over 7 minutes slower than my PR is a little bit of a punch in the gut. I saw the boys right away and Cullen was proud of me for finishing 4th for the women. He always remembers how I finished 150th place at CIM, so 4th place sounds really good to him. Obviously, this was a far less competitive field, but bless kids for not understanding the full picture.
After the race, I said hi to a couple athletes, talked with other fellow runners who I knew from living in Anchorage for 15 years, and tried to remind myself that I have had plenty of other races that don’t go well, but I always rebound eventually. I am grateful not to be injured, which is way worse than just having one bad race. And like I said in my post-race recap on Instagram, those who love me and care about me are still proud of me despite the time on the clock.
