Half Marathon #3 - Great Forest Events at Waitarere

14 April, 2018.  

The day was here. My first half marathon in two years.  The half marathon I wasn't sure I would run again after 'that hip injury' in 2016.  It took a long time to physically recover from that injury but a lot longer after that to mentally recover.  The fear of re-injury, to the same level, or worse, was real.  

It was a chilly morning - there was snow on the nearby ranges after the storm that week - but it was dry and fairly still. Perfect running conditions.

I arrived around 8.15am for a 9am race start, which gave me plenty of time to get myself organised, a porta-loo break (or two) and a bag drop of food and warm clothes for afterwards at the tent.

Kevin found me in the starting area and pulled me closer to the front.  He was only one of a few I'd shared my sub-2 goal with.  He intended to do the same, and had some advice for me.  "You gotta come up closer to the front," he'd said in our chats over Instagram the week beforehand.  "Let people pass you naturally.  You don't want to get caught up behind people at the start. The time is hard to make up later."  I acquiesed, seeing his point of view but also remembering my last outing here where I got caught up with those around me and started too fast.

The race started.  I pressed play on my Spotify playlist.  Major Lazer's "Watch out for this" - how appropriate.

My legs felt fresh and fast. I kept looking at my watch, and seeing paces under 5:30 min/km.  "Slow down a bit." I kept telling myself.  I watched Kevin disappear slowly in front of me, but I was okay. I couldn't sensibly keep up with him and expect to have enough in the tank for the rest of the distance.  I'd see him at the finish.

The first 5km passed, with an average of 5:30 min/km. A bit fast, I know I'm going to slow down a bit near the end but at least I'll have a bit of buffer.  At the 10km mark my average pace was 5:32 min/km.

The terrain was varied - gravel forestry roads, to hard-packed dirt roads with pinecones and fallen branches to dodge, a rocky section (where I watched every single footstep to avoid an over turned ankle!), and one huge puddle where we had no choice but to barrel on through and get wet feet.  

I was taking a sip of tailwind approximately every 1km, focusing on letting my legs turn over underneath me.  I tried to keep a steady effort on the uphill sections and take advantage of the downhill sections by letting my legs go faster and catching my breath a little at the same time.

It was around the 12-13km mark that I started to falter.  The thoughts started creeping in. "It's still so far to go."  The terrain had changed a bit, some quite sandy sections, which were tougher energy-wise.  My kilometer splits were getting slower - 5:48, 5:51, 5:50 min/km.

I knew my hubby was 'watching' my progress through the LiveTrack function, and I knew he'd be watching my average pace per kilometre fall.  I knew he'd be willing me on.  He was the one who believed in me the most.  I'd shared with him the successes (and failures!) of almost every training run during the process.  Yes, I'm lucky he loves to run too and doesn't find this kind of chat boring.  "You can definitely do a sub 2." He'd said on more than one occasion.  I wanted to do it for him.

So, I did the only thing I could do.  I said to myself - out loud - "You've got this, girl. You've got this."  Then I quickly looked around to make sure no one heard me talking to myself.  Thank goodness, I was on my own.  

I kept trucking on.

Around the 16 kilometer mark, I took a walk break.   I hadn't planned to walk at all, but I needed one. It was about 10 seconds long.  Long enough to get on top of my breathing, but short enough to not give in fully to the walking! I took about four of these 'breaks' over the next few kilometres.  10ish seconds of walking then the rest running as hard as I could manage.  I believe this worked quite well for me - I didn't lose a lot of time through walking for this short period but I did manage to get on top of my breathing enough to run faster than I would if I had just slowed down.

18km. 19km.  Now it's only 2km to go. 1km to go. I can see the finish line!  I round the corner, see all the people along the finishing chute.  I'm not sure if my family is going to be there, I don't look for them though. I'm just focused on that finish line. I hear my name being called by a couple of women on the sideline.

I cross, my watch says 1:56:00.  I've done it, under 2 hours!  Comfortably under 2 hours.  A slow, slightly dizzy, wobbly walk to pick up my medal.   I see my husband and boys there, waiting for me.  They're proud of me.  Hugs and kisses have never meant so much.  The boys don't understand the goal I set for myself and how much it means to achieve it.  But they've seen me training, working hard, finishing strong, and they can see how happy I am.

Official timed result: 1:55:51.

Now I've recovered with all my favourite food and drinks, it's time to concentrate on recovery over the next week or so, and put my mind to the next goal...