Running With the Pumpkins...

It’s true that I had never run a half-marathon race until today, even though I had run plenty of 13+ mile training runs and 3 marathons. I must elaborate that most of those miles were run decades ago, specifically the marathons, during my carefree 20’s before marriage, babies, weight gain, weight loss, and injury. This new 13.1 experience was to say the least, trying.

I wasn’t even sure I would be able to finish the run, as I had been fighting hamstring issues and metatarsal arch concerns since August. Not to mention the fact that I had spent the last year dealing with plantar fasciitis. It has been a rough year running.

Scheduled to run the Runaway Pumpkin Inaugural Half-Marathon last year, I was forced to abandon the goal amid the pain of the dreaded running ailment, plantar fasciitis. Initially it was suspected that the pain, which had been growing for months, belonged to a possible stress fracture in my heel. Oh how I wish that had been the case, a stress fracture heals and is done, while plantar fasciitis just hangs on indeterminately and depending on the cause, treatment can take on a variety of actions. Such is the plight of many runners.

So when I decided to tackle the Runaway Pumpkin this year I vowed not to be deterred. But when my thigh began to ache, just sitting in the car, I winced and reluctantly phoned my physical therapist. I was back to painful debridement and more exercises… However I was direct and told my most excellent PT, Justin, that I would run the Pumpkin Half and nothing he could tell me would stop that. It was a week to week process and training runs varied between painful and wonderful. I concentrated on the miles, leaving the speed work to another time.

Finally the day arrived, and so did the rain. However, nothing was about to dampen my determination. I was running! It was exciting and nerve wracking at the same time. The anticipation drove me nuts and 13.1 miles seemed like a long run and pacing is not my strong suit. I left my watch in the car, so I could run the way my body felt and not get stressed out by time. I would later regret that decision…

I lined up with the 10 minute per mile folks, even though I was hoping to finish in less than 2 hours. It took almost two minutes to cross the start line but no worries the race was chip timed. The start was along a narrow path for the first mile which added to my slow beginning pace, however it may also have been a good thing, as I tend to start off too fast and run out of steam at the end. So, once we hit the open road, I tried to pick up my pace and felt pretty good, I passed a few folks I recognized. The rain had started before the gun and just kind of hung in there for most of the run. I was still undaunted, after all I live in Oregon, and rain is just a part of life!

About the 6 mile mark, the road began playing tricks on my psyche. The rain, the cold, the feeling of nausea, maybe it was diarrhea, the slight rolling hill, and tired began to seep into my muscles. Maybe I had picked the pace up too fast. I wanted my watch. But, I was almost half was through… that helped my feet continue the trek. Left, Right, Repeat…

Crossing the bridge and rounding the corner, a drum line was playing… the 9 mile marker. A little more than a 5k left, spirits lifted and I was on the final stretch. I decided that I wanted to finish… and finish now! So I picked up the pace. I felt a stinging pain in my left foot. I ignored it and it went away. Good.

I was looking for the 10 mile marker and feeling tired. Second thoughts filled my head; there is much too much time to think during a half-marathon. There was also confusion; runners were on both sides of the road. Did I miss the sign? Up ahead I spied a marker, immediately joy filled my soul, only a 5k to finish, but wait… it was the 11 mile marker… I did miss the 10 mile. But that was even better… only 2 miles to go!!! My hamstring started to twinge. I really needed to finish and finish quick, I was about to fall apart!

The rain was beginning to dissipate, but the skies were still dark and threatening. I kept up my pace. I wanted to be done and I was hoping to be under the 2 hour mark. Why had I left my watch in the car!!! At the 13 mile mark I started to kick, I still had it in me! Maybe I had started off too slow, however the finish line was in sight and nothing or nobody was going to stop me! I had to dodge around celebratory runners as I crossed the line and forgot to look at the time; I guess it wasn’t that important after all. Final time: 2.06.27. I think I can beat that next year!