Well, Dog fans, I did it -- I completed my first half-marathon! After surviving Redman I wasn't sure I was ready to jump back into a race so soon, but a friend from Jefferson City was doing the half-marathon at Bass Pro and convinced me to tag along. Unfortunately this has been a crazy time of year -- parent/teacher conferences, robotics, state gifted conference -- so my training was little more than walking to the mailbox.
The night before the race we were fortunate enough to hear a speech from Frank Shorter, the marathon gold medalist from the 1972 Olympics. His victory lap was famously disrupted by an imposter who jumped out of the crowd and raced ahead of him into the stadium. The emcee for the evening decided to find the footage of the race, and towards the end Frank stood up in front of the screen with the most intent look on his face. It turns out he had never seen that footage before, and we got to experience him experiencing that moment. During his speech he told about a recent trip to Munich in honor of the 40th anniversary of the Munich Games. As he and a film crew revisited various points in the race, the producer handed him a phone and said, "would you like to speak to the man who jumped in front of you in the race?" Frank said the man was very apologetic and regretted his actions; they weren't meant to be malicious, he said, but a joke. He then asked Frank to forgive him. Frank considered his offer and gently but firmly said no. He explained that there are certain choices that we make that we have to live with, for better or for worse. Sometimes the best way to learn from a choice is to deal with the consequences, and Frank felt like this was one of those times. He couldn't give this man closure because it just wasn't the way he felt that story should end. Frank was a wonderful speaker, and his speech was truly inspiring.
The weather on race day was great -- sunny, clear, and cool. The racers descended on Bass Pro and the few available bathrooms before the start, creating a swirl of noise and people and nerves. We packed into the lobby, and the crowd suddenly moved towards the doors. Most of us were still inside when we heard the bang of the starting gun. Suddenly there was no turning back -- the mass of people literally pushed us out the door and across the starting line.
I wasn't sure what to expect of myself over the course of the race. I knew it would take a long time, but I wasn't sure how quickly time would pass. What if I hit a wall and realized I'd barely made any headway? I found myself surrounded by a group of race walkers and slow joggers and decided to use them to pace myself. I slowly but surely passed many of them, making sure to take advantage of the downhills and not to lag behind on the uphills. Unlike my first few races, the mile markers didn't seem so far apart. For the first 8 or 9 miles I kept a consistent pace and felt good about my progress.
Unfortunately, I hit that proverbial wall soon after. My legs started to stiffen and feel sore, and the bottoms of my feet rebelled against each step. My parents tried so hard to find me along the path and we kept missing each other. Seeing them at the 12 mile marker, though, was a huge relief. As exhausted as I was, I knew I just need to push on a little bit farther. As I rounded the final curve I saw the huge crowd of spectators lining the streets. Two little kids were cheering loudly for anyone who came down the chute -- "hey green shirt! You're almost there! Way to go blue and black shirt!" Hearing them and seeing all of the cheering supporters -- even though only a few of them were actually for me! -- was a perfect ending.
As with any new race I try, I definitely encountered some tough times. There were so many moments along the way, though, that made it worthwhile. The homeowners along the race route who, instead of complaining about having their streets shut down, came out in lawn chairs to cheer us on. The random, humorous signs along the way (personal faves -- "Run now, beer later!" and "Worst parade ever!"). The entire MSU track team serving at an aid station. The elementary school staff that manned another aid station outside their school and showed their spirit by wearing shirts with the race slogan -- "Love one another." The unique camouflage medals that only Bass Pro could provide. And that feeling of accomplishment that will drive me, despite the raw feet and sore muscles, to do this all over again.
The night before the race we were fortunate enough to hear a speech from Frank Shorter, the marathon gold medalist from the 1972 Olympics. His victory lap was famously disrupted by an imposter who jumped out of the crowd and raced ahead of him into the stadium. The emcee for the evening decided to find the footage of the race, and towards the end Frank stood up in front of the screen with the most intent look on his face. It turns out he had never seen that footage before, and we got to experience him experiencing that moment. During his speech he told about a recent trip to Munich in honor of the 40th anniversary of the Munich Games. As he and a film crew revisited various points in the race, the producer handed him a phone and said, "would you like to speak to the man who jumped in front of you in the race?" Frank said the man was very apologetic and regretted his actions; they weren't meant to be malicious, he said, but a joke. He then asked Frank to forgive him. Frank considered his offer and gently but firmly said no. He explained that there are certain choices that we make that we have to live with, for better or for worse. Sometimes the best way to learn from a choice is to deal with the consequences, and Frank felt like this was one of those times. He couldn't give this man closure because it just wasn't the way he felt that story should end. Frank was a wonderful speaker, and his speech was truly inspiring.
The weather on race day was great -- sunny, clear, and cool. The racers descended on Bass Pro and the few available bathrooms before the start, creating a swirl of noise and people and nerves. We packed into the lobby, and the crowd suddenly moved towards the doors. Most of us were still inside when we heard the bang of the starting gun. Suddenly there was no turning back -- the mass of people literally pushed us out the door and across the starting line.
I wasn't sure what to expect of myself over the course of the race. I knew it would take a long time, but I wasn't sure how quickly time would pass. What if I hit a wall and realized I'd barely made any headway? I found myself surrounded by a group of race walkers and slow joggers and decided to use them to pace myself. I slowly but surely passed many of them, making sure to take advantage of the downhills and not to lag behind on the uphills. Unlike my first few races, the mile markers didn't seem so far apart. For the first 8 or 9 miles I kept a consistent pace and felt good about my progress.
Unfortunately, I hit that proverbial wall soon after. My legs started to stiffen and feel sore, and the bottoms of my feet rebelled against each step. My parents tried so hard to find me along the path and we kept missing each other. Seeing them at the 12 mile marker, though, was a huge relief. As exhausted as I was, I knew I just need to push on a little bit farther. As I rounded the final curve I saw the huge crowd of spectators lining the streets. Two little kids were cheering loudly for anyone who came down the chute -- "hey green shirt! You're almost there! Way to go blue and black shirt!" Hearing them and seeing all of the cheering supporters -- even though only a few of them were actually for me! -- was a perfect ending.
As with any new race I try, I definitely encountered some tough times. There were so many moments along the way, though, that made it worthwhile. The homeowners along the race route who, instead of complaining about having their streets shut down, came out in lawn chairs to cheer us on. The random, humorous signs along the way (personal faves -- "Run now, beer later!" and "Worst parade ever!"). The entire MSU track team serving at an aid station. The elementary school staff that manned another aid station outside their school and showed their spirit by wearing shirts with the race slogan -- "Love one another." The unique camouflage medals that only Bass Pro could provide. And that feeling of accomplishment that will drive me, despite the raw feet and sore muscles, to do this all over again.
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