Review: B.A.A. Half Marathon

B.A.A. Half Marathon: October 10, 2010

As promised, let me tell you about how the much anticipated half went down. As a refresher, I had this brilliant plan in July to run my first sub-2:00 half marathon. I don't remember smoking anything at the time, but for whatever reason, this seemed entirely reasonably for me to accomplish after being out with an injury for six months. It was, at the very least, motivating.

I got a low mileage plan with a nice balance of two easy runs, a speed workout and a long run per week. It quickly went to pot, but what's new? I ended up with my IT band aching like a mother about three weeks before the race, and the last two weeks I just straight up did nothing in order to prevent further injury.

So Sunday morning rolls around. I'd gone to bed at 9pm the night before with my alarm set for 5:30am. The race started at 8:30, but I was anticipating at least an hour to get out to Franklin Park given that it was going to take me two unreliable Sunday-schedule train rides and a shuttle.

Dana-Farber also scheduled the team photo for 8:00am with the gathering time at 7:45am. My plan was to leave the house by 6:30am. I left at 6:45, which got me at the train station for 6:55am. There waiting on the platform was another runner who was up from North Carolina to run the race for her 50th birthday. She too was running for DFCI, so we chatted about our goals, our fundraising, our running experience, our mutual suspicion that we were going to miss the group photo.

We kept each other company from blue line to orange line to the runners' shuttle, and then jogged over to the stands at 8:05 for the last couple of DFCI photos. Needless to say that I am not in the final photos they posted online.

Singlets, bibs, etc. all arrived via mail, so the only thing to do for the next 25 minutes was bag check and port-o-johns. It was a chilly morning, very chilly, but I knew the minute I got on the road, I'd be too hot in long sleeves. I bravely dropped off my bag along with my long sleeve shirt and jacket. I then shivered my way towards the bathroom lines.

On the way over, I ran into Arun from work/gym. I told him about my doubts about finishing today, he showed me a new stretch for the IT band and we waited in line together. While we chatted, he asks if I'd used the gel tablets. I was confused a minute, then he pulled out his bag of fixes which contained little green iboprofen gel tablets. I was like "Oh, yeah, I took a couple." And he's like "No, I mean, topically." At this point I was introduced to the art of stabbing the gel tab with a swiss army knife and slathering your injury with the anti-inflammatory. Even if it didn't work, I was still ready to try anything to get through the race.

We were some of the last runners waiting in line for the portojohns - everyone was, as can be expected, a little frantic. We heard the national anthem, a lot of talk, some more singing, and then about 10 minutes after the official start. I jogged over to the starting line where everyone was still waiting around. My actual start was somewhere around 4 minutes past the gun time, simply because the number of runners was relatively large and fast. Knowing my injuries, I settled into the 10min+ pace group.

The Emerald Necklace is beautiful. The roads are smooth with gently rolling hills. The temperature was perfectly around 60F. It was just a beautiful day for a race.

The course itself starts out at a decline, which started me out optimistic. I didn't figure I'd last long enough to have to go back up it again. By mile 5, my right knee started to ache, the IT band subtly flaring up. I didn't drink until mile 7 or 8. It was around maybe 9 that I popped a couple of clif blocks since I'd gone with a yogurt-breakfast that morning - not a hearty fuel. That provided me with a short-lived kick of energy. I swapped to the Gatorade Endurance around that time as well. The pain in my knee was manageable through this period. My fitness level was questionable.

I maintained a little above a 10 min/mile average the first 10 miles, miraculously. It's around the last three miles that my truncated training failed me (I never did a run over 10 miles this summer), and that's also when the course went up hill. This one brutal hill actually slowed me to a walk. I was feeling pain in my left knee just below my patella in addition to my usual right ITBS. Mile 11 was a jog-walk. Mile 12 was where my calves started cramping up on the hills and I came down with stomach cramps. Mile 13 was just a flat-out disaster.

The course heads through the Zoo in the last half mile before reaching the stadium. It curved through some swamp grass on a dirt trail and ran us past an anteater (First race with an anteater as spectator - he looked unimpressed by our efforts). I was power-walking like a crippled old woman at that point. I only picked back up to a jog as we headed out of the zoo, into the park and towards the first of the crowds near the stadium. I made it past the crowds, keeping a brave face, then slowed back down again once we ducked around behind the stadium.

That last 0.1 mile? Lame. It should be inspirational to burst through onto the track with spectators crowding the stands. It was not. The only thing that kept me going was the fact that I knew I could pass like 6-7 people in order to at least be 6-7 places ahead in the standings. My time was brutally bad at this point. So with what little energy I had left, I sprinted around the track and through the finish line.

I immediately halted to a pained walk like 2 feet over the kickboard that hides the detectors. No one was directly behind me, thank goodness. I know, I was a jerk, but I was beat up. I dragged myself over to the medical tent only to learn that they were out of ice and I should come back later. Sweet.

I got my medal, loaded up on post-workout food/drink stuffs, and called my friend to meet up. I posed for a couple of post-race photos in my jazzy new long-sleeve Adidas-sponsored finishers t-shirt, and returned for some ice. I then walked off and collapsed in the field until my friend found me.

What a day. The statistics on my run are humiliating, but I'm just happy I finished the damned thing. I was not prepared. I was injured. And I had no business running a half marathon. It was great though. I promised myself that I was going to start taking better care of my knee so that I could do this again next year - and actually rock out.