Half-marathon success!

Though the feeling of glory has faded somewhat by now, I'm still feeling pretty happy about the half-marathon I ran three weeks ago.

It was the Dunkin' Run Arc Race (why did a donut shop sponsor a road race? I'm still wondering that myself), in my childhood stomping grounds of Liverpool, New York. My friend Brandye invited me to sign up, and at 9am on an overcast day we set out to see what the half-marathon had in store for us.

I had a strategy, based on the course I studied online, days before the race. It was simple, though I wrote it on a card tucked into my pocket. Basically, I'd start off easy. I knew ahead of time I'd grab a cup of fluids at each water station, alternating water and Gatorade. I needed to be at mile 5.5 in 53 minutes or less, to stay on pace. By mile 7.5, I needed to pick it up.

Everything played out well. The temperature was mild and overcast, I was carbo-loaded from a pasta dinner the night before (thanks Mom!), and my legs felt good (that taper the week before really worked). Early in the race I paced off two amiable guys ahead of me. I let others pass me without worry, and cruised by others who lagged on the hills. I met my targets at miles 5.5 and 7.5 and remembered what I'd written on my card: 'pick it up!'. So I did.

I finished strong, pumping my fist and smiling giddily as I slowed up afterward. My loving hubby plied me with fluids, brought my jacket to counter the post-race chill. Brandye's hubby congratulated me, and we all waited for Brandye to come in, not far behind me. It was a good day. I was grateful for my pace, the support from family and friends, and that I didn't hurt too badly. A success all around.

I let myself enjoy the thrill of success, not yet ready to think about the training coming down the pike.