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Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Chickamauga Halfathon

I ran another race.

I know you've been anxiously awaiting news of how Chickamauga went (this is an example of self-deprecating sarcasm. I don't really think that anyone has been anxiously awaiting this. See how I used that literary device to exhibit, well, self-deprecating sarcasm? Now, if I could just figure out the mysteries of the comma, I'd be ready for the NY Times (more sarcasm. I guess you got that)). 

Sorry. Anyhow, it sucked.  The race that is.  The one I was talking about up there.

If you are looking for a beautiful race to run, this is it. If it is your first marathon, they will greet you at the finish line with a framed copy of your race bib. It's pretty cool. If you are looking for some tasty, tasty chicken tortilla soup after a race, this is also the place to be.  Finally, if you are looking for a race that will scare the crap out of you at the beginning, then this, again, is the place - they shoot off a Civil War cannon to start the race.  It's....loud.

The good news is that I came in 30th in my age group (M50-54. It's searchable. Whatever).  The bad news is that there were only 31 men in my age group.

My training strategy has been - so it seems - to run very little between races, so as to be fresh for the race.  Doesn't work.

I started running with a pace group and all was well until about mile 5, when my right IT Band started hurting and I alternately "ran", hobbled, and walked.  At mile 9, my hip was feeling left out and joined in the fun.

I've heard of people "death marching" the end of a marathon. Heck, I've done it myself. But I found myself doing the same during this HALF marathon! Did I mention that I dropped down from the full marathon to the half because I'm a blob not very well trained these days?

So, I did the runners walk of shame during the last half of a half marathon!!!

The only other thing to mention is that from about mile 9 to about mile 12, a girl who was in as much pain as I was, started to pass me, then I would pass her and so on, back and forth.  We were sort of like zombies who hadn't turned all foamy and green yet.

                                             That's me in the middle (artists depiction)

With about a half mile to go, after I shuffled past her one last time, she looked up and said "You'd better beat me!" - I told her that we would finish together, and so we did, even to the point of right before the final turn, pretending to run to the finish (gotta look good for the photo!).

Her Mom came up to me afterwards and thanked me for running in with her daughter, and I swelled with pride at my outstanding job of not falling over in front every one.

Oh! Guess what?  It was my slowest half marathon ever!!!

There's nowhere to go but up from here!  I've got some lofty goals!

Stay tuned.  All three of you!

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