Kaiser Permanente Half Marathon

Spending nearly my entire Saturday cleaning house should have tired me out. At midnight, however, I was still wide awake. I wasn’t anxious; I just could not sleep. I even took two Tylenol PM to attempt to induce sleep. It wasn’t until my youngest, who also couldn’t sleep, joined me in bed that I was able to leave my body for the land of dreams. Just a few hours later, I was awakening for my race preparations and travel to the race.
At 5 AM Sunday morning, just prior to the alarm sounding, I hoped out of bed. I wasn’t nervous about the race itself; I just wanted to be sure that we caught the bus to the start on time. Since I had set out all of my clothes the night before, I just put them on and went downstairs to eat and wait for Cindy to arrive. It wasn’t until we were arriving in San Francisco that I began to get nervous. As we drove down 19th, it felt like a race to get the last parking spots. It seemed that the majority of the cars out were filled with other runners. Having to pass the smaller parking spots, we ended up a half a mile uphill from the bus pickup. We ran down, got in a crazy long line of runners, and later boarded the bus for the start.
The day was clear and sunny. I knew I had made a grave error in choosing my clothing. I had expected the usual foggy, cold weather that San Francisco is known for. There I stood, among runners in shorts and singlet, in my tights and running long sleeved mock tee. “Just a training race,” I reminded myself.
When we first headed out, I felt awkward. I just couldn’t find my groove. Cindy was with me and we made small talk as we went. But while I love to RUN with company, I hate to RACE with company. There is an awareness of the other person that keeps me from totally focusing on myself. You hear their breathing, their steps, and maybe even their thoughts. I feel their discomfort and I just can’t find separation. So when Cindy was heading to the bushes for pee, I decided to hold mine a bit longer. I knew that even if she caught up with me, or passed me, that I would have found my groove in the meantime. I immediately felt 100% better. Less than a mile later was a huge line of porta-potties.
The race took us up and down small rolling hills. I was just too hot, so I peeled off my long sleeved shirt and gradually got used to the cool air. As I headed down the hill toward the Great Highway I was awed with the breath taking view of the ocean. I love California! This part of the race is a long, gentle climb. We run on the chopped up road towards the zoo and then turn around and head back. While it is fun to see the race leaders zooming past, it is easy to feel like all of those people are passing you.
After the turn around, I pick up my effort ever so slightly. Running on more of the shoulder of the road, the path is less torn up. It is easier to enjoy the view. I see the torture in the oncoming runners faces as they continue in the opposite direction. I remember what I felt when I was on that side of the road. I’ve only got 3.1 more miles to run and it feels good knowing this. When I make the turn back towards Golden Gate Park, I come across this young lady who groans that she hopes that she can finish. “Oh, you WILL finish,” I assure her. She is unaware just how close the finish is. I arm her with the knowledge that she has less than a half a mile to go and plow into the hill. I know the course well from here. I pick up the pace even more, and as I turn the corner and head toward the finish line I am already moving as fast as my feet will take me. I finish 1:56.
I found myself slightly disappointed in my finish time. I secretly wanted to beat my 1:50 time from two years ago. I wanted this even though I had sprinted too early in that race as I had thought the finish was at the end of the Great Highway. I had actually run VERY well. I ran, an evenly paced race, dead on at my marathon pace.