The More Half Marathon

Post-race with my favorite cheerleader

I was so nervous for the More Half this weekend. I have no idea why. I felt totally prepared. But there I was, packing my bag (and Liam's) super early the day before, carb-loading, laying out my outfit, checking my alarm clock a dozen times, going to bed early. Bill was like "Are you nervous about tomorrow?" I said "I must be. I don't feel like it, but I'm acting like it." I usually blow half marathons off as I would any other race but I was treating this one like it was the full.

It's kind of funny how much other stuff you have to worry about when you are racing as a mom. I guess mainly just the breastfeeding thing...making sure all of the timing works out. Luckily it did. I also realized that the days of seeing Bill cheering me on at 50 different places on the course were over. But that is fine by me. I am happy to see them once (especially since Liam is there!).

My plan I announced to the world was that I was going to try to do a 10:30 pace. My plan in my head was that I would be happy with any pace with a 10 in front of it. :)

I knew that I had to run this thing smart because I had some nasty hills scattered throughout the course (it was two and some change loops of Central Park). I also know that I have a tendency to run fast in the beginning and regret it later. I planned on keeping it nice and easy on the first six and then figure out if I needed to go faster after that. I wasn't going to worry about the first mile too much because that's always the "finding your pace in the madness of the crowd" mile. I also was going to only look at my pace on the mile, not my overall pace.

My first mile felt like I was dragging, but nope, I was clocking a 9:48. Whoops. Time to slow it down. I found two girls going at what felt like a snail's pace, but looked like the pace I was supposed to be maintaining. I forced myself to get behind them. Sure enough, the next mile I did was 10:30. Yay! Right on target! But oh no! They stopped for water. So I had to concentrate concentrate concentrate to keep the same pace. Unfortunately I could feel myself getting faster.

I kept the next mile in the low ten range and told myself to SLOW DOWN.

As I rounded the top of the park (the dreaded Harlem Hill) I decided to stop for my GU. It was a little early, but I found that since I've been feeding Liam I need them more quickly in my runs and more often. Let me tell you, it was the BEST GU I'VE EVER TASTED. (It was Strawberry Banana.) I kept putting my tongue up to the top of my mouth to get the aftertaste because it was just that good. Then I started laughing to myself (not out loud) because four years ago I was literally choking these things down and I could only do vanilla.

That mile was a 10:15. I was kind of mad about this because not only did it include Harlem Hill (and therefore should have been slower) but it also included a long water/GU break. So this is where I started staging this inner battle in my head: Should I just run and not worry about pace? I seem to be feeling good...No, 10:30 is an admirable goal considering how I've been running and I need to slow down to do that. But I feel so GOOD! But you are only in the fourth mile. But in the Bronx Half you ran how you felt and got a huge PR! But that was... and so on and so on. In the end, practicality won. I decided to stick with the original plan.

Boy, I am glad I did! Because after I finished Harlem Hill the second time it was game over. I only had three miles to go but I was so tired. My legs didn't hurt or anything, I was just lethargic...like I wanted to go to sleep. Yuck. At this point I was just working on maintaining. I was in the low 10 and high 9s for the past few miles anyway, so I was very happy.

I almost didn't want to look at my watch for the next mile because I knew it was really slow. But surprise! It was a 10:04!

I knew I would see Bill and Liam soon and was soooooo looking forward to that. And Liam really was the cutest ever. If I hadn't been so incredibly exhausted at the point I would have stopped for a Liam kiss. But I knew if I did that there was no way I would finish running.

As I was coming up on the finish I finally looked at my overall pace: 9:58!!!!
Whoo-hooo-hooooooooooooo! I was so proud and happily accepted my medal.

(Later on I checked the results and they had me listed as having a 10:03 pace. Stupid Garmin. It had me running more than 13.1. I am still counting the 9:58 pace.)