Monumental achievement

I thought I could. I thought I could. I thought I could. I began yesterday as just someone who was training for a race and ended the day as a half-marathon finisher when I completed the inaugural Indianapolis Monumental Half Marathon.

I couldn’t have asked for a better race. I got tired in the last quarter of the race, of course, but everything went even better than planned. I woke up at 5 a.m. surprisingly well rested and ready to go, and I didn’t feel nervous once. The morning started out a little stressful as we hit standstill traffic downtown when we were trying to park before the race and I got to the starting line just 10 minutes before it began, but after that, it was smooth sailing. (We were stuck within a block of the race start, so if it’d come to it, I could’ve just gotten out of the car and wasn’t in danger of missing the race, but it was a stress that I didn’t need that moment.) I was emotional as I kissed The Husband and Baby B before they left me to go pick a spot beyond the starting line to watch me. When I woke up and checked the weather, I was pleased to find out it was 50 degrees; much better than the low 40s that had been predicted. This meant I could wear my short-sleeved shirt without having to wear a throwaway shirt over it. The morning felt cool at first, but once I’d run the first half-mile, I felt fine, and never at any point during the race did I feel too hot, so it was quite ideal. I saw The Husband and Baby B again as we entered Monument Circle just before the three-mile mark, then I set northward on my own and knew I wouldn’t see them again until the 12.5-mile point.

I made sure to not begin too fast, and I kept close to what I felt was my usual running pace. My realistic goal time for my normal pace was 2:45, but I said I would have been thrilled to break 2:30. I wrote on my inner arm what should be my split times for 3 miles, 6 miles, and 10 miles for the 2:45 pace so I’d know how I was doing. (I would’ve just memorized it, but I was afraid I’d forget in the moment.) We received our 3-mile times, and I looked at my watch to see that I was several minutes ahead of the pace. The same was true for the 6-mile split time, but it wasn’t until I heard the 10-mile time that I believed I had a shot to hit 2:30 instead. I saw The Husband and Baby B at the 12.5-mile point, and I ran over and hugged and kissed both of them quickly, and that helped give me the boost I needed to make it the last 0.6 miles and see them at the finish line.

The last couple of miles were difficult, not just because of fatigue but because of the emotion of it all — knowing how close I was to finishing after all this time and all this hard work, and hearing people on the sidewalks saying, “You’re almost there! You can do it!” — but I pushed through and beat my ideal goal time by 18 seconds. Unbelievable.

My left ankle began hurting a little bit around mile 6, but it seemed to get better by about mile 8. (Not coincidentally, I’d taken a Tylenol around mile 6.) Other than that, the only other annoyance I had was that the seam on my shirt sleeve started rubbing the underside of my arm a little raw, but that was pretty minor. I was very thankful that my shins didn’t give me problems (occasional shin soreness was always my biggest training challenge). In fact, I didn’t even think about my shins until about mile 10 when I realized they weren’t giving me a problem. No problems with asthma. No issues with my headphone cord bothering me (which they did sometimes on training runs).

It’s funny, though, because so much of the race route is already a blur to me, even just a day after the race. That’s both good and bad, of course. It’s bad because it means my memory of the actual race will fade quickly and I soon won’t be able to remember specifics (which is why I want to write this now). But it’s also good because the reason a lot of the race is a blur is because I was so focused inward on what I needed to do that my surroundings were secondary. (I mean, I was aware enough of what was going on around me for safety reasons, but I was able to find the “zone” that I needed to be in.)

There are some things I do remember, however…things I don’t want to forget. I think I’ll need to do them in bullet points since they’re kind of scattered, so please forgive me that.

*Going through the Meridian Park neighborhood around mile 7 and mile 9 was probably my favorite part. So many residents were out on their front lawns or in their driveways cheering us on, and there were handmade signs scattered along the route encouraging us, and I can’t say how much that means when you’re just starting to get tired. Several neighborhood kids were on the street writing chalk messages to us: “Way to go!”, “Meridian Park loves runners!”, and “This is the only uphill in the race!” You could feel the sense of community and involvement in the neighborhood, and it was great to be a small part of that. In looking up some information about the neighborhood for this post, I found their neighborhood’s blog where they encouraged the residents to get out and support the runners. I was very touched, and I really wish they could know how much it helped not just me, but many others.

*We got to our north-most point, 38th Street, and headed back toward downtown via Meridian Street the entire way. It was a bit daunting to see how far the downtown buildings were at that point, but it was nice to know we were past our halfway point and every step was truly a step closer to the finish line.

*Around mile 6, the marathoners and half-marathoners split up, and we met up again at our 8-mile mark. From that point on, they listed the mile markers for both races, so it was a good mind game to look at the mile points for the marathon and pretend I’d come that far. “Twenty-two miles? Sure, I can do another four!” Much better than thinking you’ve still got four left out of 13.

*I loved the encouragement from the bystanders, both the ones who were there to support someone they knew and those who just happened upon the race because they were in the area. But my favorite comment was from a mom to her probably 10-year-old daughter: “You wouldn’t believe all the hard work these people have done in order to get here.” So true.

*We went through Monument Circle just before the three-mile mark, as I mentioned before, but we also went through again around the 12.5-mile point. Since we approached Monument Circle from Meridian Street (which runs north-south right into the circle), we could see the monument for several miles ahead of time. Actually reaching Monument Circle again — to the extra cheers to onlookers and knowing we were so close to the end — was a fantastic moment.

*I held it together as I crossed the finish line, but I did start crying once The Husband and Baby B found me and gave me a hug. Partly from the sense of accomplishment, but partly because of the relief that it was all over. If I was inclined to run a full marathon before — and I wasn’t at all — I’ll say that I’m even less interested in doing that now. Kudos to those who can do it, but I just don’t see it on my agenda. I don’t even have a desire to run another half; I’m super happy with my finish time, and I don’t see how I could realistically do better. This is the perfect note to begin and end on.

(Note: A few photos to come on Wordless Wednesday for November 5.)