My official time was 2 hours 24 minutes and 36 seconds. A solid time, especially for a first time Half Marathoner, but I can't shake the feeling of what could have been. I got to the starting line in a very well hydrated state. By the time I finished stretching, the race was 5 minutes from starting and the two port-a-johns on site had a line at least 30 deep.
So I hopped in my corral and just hoped that it would go away. Great idea in principle, until my bladder was bouncing up down for 3 miles. By the time the second water station popped up I was begging for a bathroom and took a quick pit stop. The line was much shorter but I can't help but wonder just how much time I added to my run.
Let's just chalk that up to a rookie mistake. This may have been the 7th race I've done, but it was the first half and that's the story I'm sticking to. I'll make sure I don't make that mistake again.
Almost immediately after, I hit a groove and a strong pace for 7 miles that took us from the West Lafaytte residential area, through the college apartments, across the river, into town, and back through campus. This was by and far the most enjoyable leg of the run. The leaves were perfect. Orange, yellow, red, green, pretty much every color that just screams fall.
Coupling that with the new surroundings I've never run through, those miles just flew by quicker than I could have imagined. I was cruising until we hit the 10th mile and reached the athletic complexes, and more importantly, the hills. HOLY CRAP was I not prepared for that. I had spent the last month or so of training finding every hill in Champaign I could run on to help prep for this leg...well what I thought were hills at that point in time.
By the time I made it to the 12th mile, my legs were shot and my will was being tested. I would have crushed a flat course but I needed every ounce of my adrenaline to get me across that finish line. I still made it and all the prouder for it.
I had only two complaints about my first half marathon. The first issue came with how I crossed the finish. I had spent the days leading up to the race
contemplating how I was going to cross the finish line. I had settled on the traditional one fist in the air, a sign of strength and will. But when it actually came time to strike a pose, the animal inside of me took over and roared as I was crossing. I have no problem with that. I typically lose myself in the run and throw random punches or screams when I need an extra boost, and yes, I scare the hell out of people when it happens too. No no, the problem comes with the picture taken of me as I was crossing. Yep that's right, rocking the Oh face!
The other issues was the last tenth of a mile. The course brought you to a hard right 90 degree turn exactly at the 13 mile marker. You spin to your side and see the finish line so close you can taste it. Naturally, you kick things up a gear to finish as hard as you can. It was just too bad there was a 30-35 foot drop in the span of about 20 feet. Dana was waiting just at the bottom of that slope and told me every person running by her was complaining about how it was killing their knees. Yours truly, somehow hyper extended his right knee. I had no intention of resting more than a few days as I have a 10k a mere two weeks after the half, but that hill put me out of commission for 9 days. It just seems no matter how they shape that course, there's going to be some trouble getting to the finish line if they keep it at Ross-Ade Stadium
No biggie though.
After all, I'm a Half Marathoner now, pain comes with the territory.
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