I made it.
2hrs 31min 42 sec, from beginning to end, a week ago I was hoping for 2hrs 15mins. On the day it didn’t happen but I finished and emerged unscathed.
So what did happen? After training in Dunedin’s finest winter conditions including sleet, snow and consistent cold I wasn’t prepared for the rapid progression from spring to high summer. Less than two weeks ago I put off an early morning run to allow frost to melt. I didn’t find out the temperature on Sunday but it was still 20C at 5am on Monday morning. That’s warm for this town.
Before the race I ran my warm up wearing trackpants, a fleece and a thermal top. For the start I pared down to shorts and a vest (“singlet” in NZ speak) and my custom made visor. The race started at 9.30am, about 2000 runners and walkers, a banana, a panda, a gorilla and a collection of fairies set off along the Dunedin waterfront.
For 5km I was comfortable, the second 5km was OK, I began to feel like I was working a little harder, Pete set a good steady pace and things were under control.
After about 1hr 15mins things weren’t going so well. The experience between 12km to 17km was part of my life I’d prefer not to repeat. I was hot, tired and miserable. The miserable mindset probably didn’t help in dealing with the heat and fatigue. Even after using the 15km water station for a cup by cup shower I was still too hot. I walked and ran and walked and grew despondent. Pete stuck with me and managed to conceal any frustration. I never considered giving up. I did wish it was over or easier or cooler or all three.
Oddly I managed to summon energy to run up the hill at the end but couldn’t run all the way down the other side.
Pete and I crossed the finish line hand in hand, aah… I made a bee-line through the crowd to a shady patch of grass by the medical tent. A cup of water later and I was all smiles again.
While I changed out of my soaking wet running gear, Pete had a sausage sandwich and found the ice-cream van. I ate the Magnum Classic I had been looking forward to for the past week so quickly I can’t recall how good it was.
The half marathon mission accomplished we headed home and I spent the afternoon sitting in the sunshine drinking pink champagne.
The End…
… except it isn’t. I set out to run a half marathon faster than before. I ran a half marathon but didn’t improve. I was a minute slower than my first attempt in Auckland. I could blame the weather or claim it was a more difficult course or that I’m 2 years older this time. None of that really counts.
So now what? Do I gracefully retire, or try again?
I’m not making any decisions today, or even this week.