A Monster PR

Last weekend, I joined a small group of friends for a weekend of wine tasting and running. "Wine tasting and running, really?", you might ask. Yes, really (even though I wasn't all too sure myself whether this was a good combo or not).

I lined up at the start on race day morning with zero expectations. I had no goal pace or time. The "real" race I have been training for is coming up in another two weeks, so this was just a fun run. I was going to run with friends, and enjoy conversation and the scenery of wine country.

The race wasn't too crowded. The only waves at the start were those from friends and family members who had come out to cheer on the runners. Those first few miles felt good. We ran up and down a couple of rolling hills and then hit the first meaningful descent. Woah! I could learn a thing or two from my friends about descending hills - I barely kept up! When we hit the next up hill, one of my running pals was not feeling the greatest, so my friends decided to cut back on the tempo.

It's a decision every runner who runs with a friend or friends has faced at one point or another....do I forge ahead, or stay with my friend? My veteran running buddies had no qualms about encouraging me ahead. So I kept going. I actually believed that with all the hills and their mad good descending skills, I would see them again soon.

I did not seem them again until the finish line.

I felt great. Loose. Relaxed. Enjoying the scenery. Enjoying conversations with other runners. One runner complimented an elderly male runner as we each made our way past. "You're truly an inspiration!", she said. "I hope to be just like you some day!" We chatted about growing old and staying fit. We talked about the importance of building bone density today (she was 29) so that we are strong when we are older. We talked about how expensive race registration fees were for the Rock 'n Roll series. We talked about our training. She'd been having problems with shin splints and had not been able to train much. She was running at what felt like a blistering pace. I was just trying to keep up. And then she paused. It was the kind of pause I've experienced just before the runner says, "well, been nice chatting with you, have a great race!" and sprints off into the distance. I thought to myself "You've been a delightful running partner. I know you want to go faster - thanks for the run!" Then she said, "well, I'm going to let you go ahead now, I need to take the down hill easy. Have a great run!".

Woah, was someone seriously saying that to me?

"Have a great run", I yelled, and off I went. I had become the other runner. The fast runner.

I saw my friend in one of the photos and looked up her time from her bib number. She finished only 3 minutes after I did at a pace I would have been thrilled to have run that day.

At mile 7, I saw my husband. It always makes my day to see my sweetheart on the course. He always has encouraging words and today, he was able to help lighten my load. I had wore arm warmers, but as the race went on, I had rolled them down. I had also brought my iPod, but had not used it at all. Well, one of the additional benefits to seeing my husband on the course was being able to unload these items mid-run. We chatted about how I was feeling as he biked along beside me. I confessed to my husband that I was aware that I was going faster than I anticipated. I warned him (and me) that "I might blow up". He said there was no way I was going to blow up. That I was going to crush it today and we both knew it. He wished me good luck and promised to see me at the finish. By mile 8, I had a lighter load and happy spirits.

At mile 10, I had another great conversation with a fellow runner. I was working my way up to her and she said to herself, "come on, just three more miles". "That's, right", I said, "only a 5-K to go". She was shooting to run the race in under two hours. It was her first half marathon. I told her she could do it, wished her good luck and kept going. Was I really running this fast?

Then it happened. I passed the 12 mile mark and saw it. The hill. I had been warned about a hill. I had checked the elevation chart and compared the hill to the infamous "Donald Street Hill" (a hill in a race I've run a half a dozen times and used to regularly train on). It seemed smaller, shorter, less steep...basically I was not emotionally prepared for the evil hill that rose before me.

Some spectators lined the hill, cheering us up and on. The pace I was moving at could hardly be considered running. I checked my watch. I still had 12 minutes left to get to the top and make the two hour mark. The two hour mark has been my coveted goal since I began running half marathons. "Quick feet", I chanted to myself, hoping somehow my feet would grow wings and sail me to the top of the hill. I looked up briefly. Photographer. Great. "This is where they put the camera? There goes another shot at a good race photo", I thought to myself. Finally I made it to the top of the hill. "Where was the finish line?", I wondered. And then I saw the runners ahead of me slogging down and up another hill. I checked my watch again, I still had 8 minutes to make my two hour cut-off. Then I saw my husband again. "How much farther?", I asked, begging for the pain to end. "It's not much farther, just a few hundred yards! You're doing great!", shouted my husband.

I turned a corner and finally saw the finish. I summoned every ounce of energy to sprint to the finish.

1:54:55.

An 11 minute PR! I crossed the finish line and started to cry. You would have thought I had won the race (or at least my weight in wine - the prize to the top male and female runners).

I lined up that morning expecting nothing but a good time, a fun run, some conversation, and some scenery. I got all those things (in different ways than I had envisioned) and more. It was a great day!

My friends? I felt bad about leaving them earlier in the run, but they were so stoked for me that I knew there wasn't any reason to feel badly. And they still ran a great time. A time that would have been a PR for me in February and a time that I would have been delighted to run that very day.

I am still in amazement and I still get emotional just thinking about the race.

Wow.