Recognizing Accomplishment

I never denied it as an athlete: I'm a competitor, and nothing kicks in competition like a race, the athleticism around you and the mental drive that says, I can do this. I should attribute part of this race to Darrell, who was the one who set the 10 min/mile goal back in January when we were first planning on racing this together. I was a bit wide-eyed at that goal: Even though I knew our first half in 2011 at a split of 11:26 could definitely be improved, 10 min/mile...that was a real goal, not just a let's-finish-this-faster-goal. But when that was his goal, of course it has to be mine, right? (yeah, kinda competitive). I like goals. I loved the 9 miler that came in around 10:04. So dang close. Plus, my training plan had my long runs at low 11's for my long runs and assumed that race-day-adrenaline would kick it down to 10:00/mile. So this had to be possible, right?

2:07:54. That zero right there...the one that makes it the minutes after two hours a single digit? I like that zero. It means I made it under 2:11:00, which means I made it under 10 min/mile.

I was taking periodic glances at my watch that last stretch, and by the time the finish line was in view, with the large digital numbers counting each second that passed; I knew I could make it, even as my pace for that last few miles was ugly, even if I was so tired when I crossed the finish I plopped straight on the grass on the side (sorry for missing the photo-op, D). After a couple minutes on the race, I stood up, made my way to lots of Gatorade and my finishers medal, and found Darrell. Then the endorphins kicked in, I was on top of the world, and I thought, Damn good job. 

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Rewind to the start of the race. I wouldn't say aloud that I thought I could do it. I thought I had a chance, but all I did was ask Darrell over and over again if he thought I could. I guess I'm still kinda chicken about goals and dreams, fearing that verbalizing that mark and failing it means...well, failure.

But though the words never spoken, the drive inside me hoped. It's that drive, combined with race day adrenaline, that had me weaving at a 8:30 pace two minutes in as I wove my way through the crowd. I thought I was just trying to get out of traffic, and I was caught off guard when I looked at my watch to find I had been going below 9 minutes. I didn't even feel like I was going that fast. Then Emily introduced herself within that first mile and asked if I wanted to pace. We were at low 9's at that point and I said sure. I mentioned I wasn't sure if I could keep it up, but inside I was already curious to see if I could keep up that time, and what the finish line could look like. She ended up being a great running partner, though she definitely kept enough reserves to finish the last couple miles stronger than I! (sidenote: D is probably right in thinking that using up my energy for the early bursts probably aren't the best strategy for a race...)

This run was fun in that I surprised myself with how fast I actually could go. In hindsight, I thought I could, but didn't want to tell anyone for fear I was inaccurate about my own ability. But one of these days, I'll daringly publicize my challenge. I won't run just for completion anymore; I'll actually tell people that I'm aiming for a sub-2 hour time for 13.1 miles, which means I'll need to be running at 9:09 each mile. Which means that most of my miles need to be run at an 8:something pace to make up for the slower last miles. I can run sub-9 miles, I've done it in Buffalo Chips training. Maybe no one else knows this: I don't train with any peers, and in most areas of my life I compare myself with others who are better than me, thus often undermining my own achievement.

This half was something. This race day was something, because when I crossed the finish I knew both that it was better than I expected but also something I dared to imagine could happen--crossing the finish line below 2:10:00, I mean. As I think through what this race means, the surprise at how we paced nearly the first half of the race below 9:30, I think: uncovered potential. Speed I can tap into somewhere. I really am as good as I thought I could be, if not better. And that's good to recognize.  And next time, I'll dare to dream of an even faster time, aim for it, and go--succeed or fail, actually declare it tangibly.

In bullet point fashion:

• I beat our 2011 SF Half time by 20 freaking minutes. I like to think that first race didn't really count because we ran to finish, and D and I had only done one short run together and thus didn't know each other's paces, etc. And it had a bunch of hills. But still. To go from 11:10 pace to a 9:45 pace is a big difference!
• My slowest split (mile 12) was 10:26 min. That was an average or slower-average during my training. 
• My fastest split (mile 2) was 9:05 min. If I went just a little faster, I could have had an 8:59 min mile during a half marathon! Crazy! (I'll learn to pace more evenly for my next race...maybe)
• I finished in the top 20 of women ages 18-24. That just sounds pretty baller. I'm not going to let the fact that there were only 70 women in this division or that I will probably be 25 by my next race and the age 25-29 category has some really fast runners take away from how cool it sounds to say "top 20". 
• I finished in the top 30% overall. That also sounds pretty cool.