Nike Women's Half Marathon: We are women, watch us run

*If you haven't read my previous post about the pre-race day antics in San Francisco, you should definitely do that.  It's super duper uber important.

I think one of the things that makes marathoning so addicting is it's unpredictability.  Come race day, you are always facing a huge unknown.  You can train your heart out, or sit on your bum...once you toe the start line, it's all up in the air.

Yes, training DEFINITELY helps.  Proper training gets you to the start line strong, confident, able, hydrated, rested, and fed.  Without proper training, the question marks of the day grow bigger, scarier, and more numerous.  But even with proper, "perfect" training, the question marks are always there.

What will happen today, in this race?  Will my mind falter, or will it carry my strong legs through?  Will my body fail, or will something fall apart?  Will my tummy stay calm and steady, or will it rumble and rage against me?  Every question runs through your head the morning of the race (or as you toss and turn the night before).

And that's what makes racing addicting.  Because even if this race goes well, or badly, or just OK, the next race will be another big question mark that you are waiting to answer.  Could you have done better?  What could have been different?  Could you have fought the mental battle just a little harder, a little stronger?  Could you run faster, harder, longer?

These questions will never fully be answered.  And that's why we sign up for another race, another training season.  Because we are eternally looking for answers that we will never quite be able to find.

For me, the Nike Women's Half Marathon was a huge question mark.  Remember when I asked myself the ever-important question: "To PR or not to PR?"  I went into this race feeling stronger and faster than I've ever felt before.  But I also went into this race knowing that I've never tackled such a hilly, challenging course (especially after driving the course the day before).  Because this is the elevation chart we were faced with:

This is a section of the marathon course elevations, so we didn't climb the
hill from 12-13.  Instead, we turned around and came back down the last
little blip we'd gone up.

And so I guess when a race is a huge question mark, it will give you a huge answer.  This one definitely did.

Mile 0

Race day morning was one of the easiest pre-race mornings I'd ever had.  With our hotel being literally right at the start line, our wake-up time wasn't too ridiculous (5:30 AM).  We woke up to our pre-prepped supplies, dressed and chilled in the hotel room until it was time to head down to check bags around 6:00.  We checked our bags and were back up in the hotel room by 6:15 to use a normal bathroom, instead waiting in the endless port-a-potty lines.  We relaxed in the room until about 6:40, when we walked down to the start and hopped into our corral for the 7:00 AM start.  

Union Square and lots of lady runners in the background.

Aside from a little panicky hiccup of losing my pre-race granola and needing to replace it with cereal from the hotel "marathon breakfast bar," the morning couldn't have been easier.

As for the weather, it was pretty clear at the start.  A little chilly, but perfect running weather.

Mile 1 - 8:54

At the start, we were in the first corral.  Just a few thousand runners between us and the start line.  I reminded myself out loud again that this was NOT going to be a PR race as I had secretly hoped.  Erica concurred, thinking about the race plan we had made at dinner the night before.  A random nearby lady runner laughed and whole-heartedly concurred as well.

That little red line up there is the starting arch.

At the official start, it took us 1 minute and 45 seconds to cross the line and start the race.  I didn't realize this until later, but that was pretty awesome.  Some of my friends had to wait anywhere between 20 and 35 minutes to cross the start line.

The first mile was so crowded that even with weaving and bobbing it was impossible to go too fast.  We kept pretty close to our 9:00 pace goal for the start.

Miles 2, 3 - 8:43, 8:43

As the adrenaline of the race sunk in while passing along the Embarcadero, and through Fisherman's Wharf, we sped up a little more than we'd wanted to.  But these still felt like comfy, relaxed miles.  And I looked down at my watch as often as I remembered, slowing down the pace when it was needed.  There was a "slight" up and down in this section, but nothing we couldn't easily handle.

Miles 4, 5 - 8:43, 8:43

Yep, look at that steady pace.  Exactly 8:43 for 4 miles straight.  This wasn't in the slightest bit intentional, nor was it anywhere close to our intended easy 9:00 pace, but it felt easy.  And I guess that's what counts, right?

Miles 4 and 5 took us along Marina Boulevard, and into the start of the Presidio.  As we got closer to the water, the fog rolled in, completely obscuring any views we had hoped to see that day.  But we were grateful for the lack of sunshine and luckily had seen all the great views the day before.

Somewhere in mile 4, Erica and I heard a loud and boisterous deep voice catch up to us.  As he called out to "the 2 purple girls" to catch our attention, we found that we were being called to attention by a small, buff, shirtless member of the air force.  He was obviously enjoying the race more than any of the women around him.  He was on leave and decided to run the full marathon during his leave in order to enjoy San Francisco and see lots of lady runners.  He was entertaining anyone within earshot with jokes and movie trivia.  Erica and I tried our best with movie trivia until he attached himself to another girl that actually knew the answers to his questions.  He caught up to us again around mile 5, ready for us with movie questions for a movie we could finally recognize--Beauty and the Beast.  He stuck with us until we hit the big hills, and then I imagine he continued the race, cheerily entertaining the ladies and having the time of his life.

Mile 6 - 8:49

Mile 6 was ONE HUGE HILL--an elevation climb from Crissy Field up to Lincoln Blvd of close to 300 ft straight up.  We were ready for this hill though.  We had seen it the day before, and knew it was the biggest hill of the race but certainly not the last.  Our pace slowed, but not by much.

Mentally, this hill wasn't too tough.  I was suddenly VERY grateful for having driven the race course the previous day.  Yes, this hill was huge, but I needed to get through it with enough energy to keep going for more.  I didn't look at my watch anywhere between miles 6 and 10.  I focused on climbing the hills, keep my breathing under control, and keeping my mind focused, strong, and in a positive place.  I was huffing and puffing my way up the hill, but I felt strong, composed, and confident I could get through it.

Mile 7 - 9:19

The big climb continued into mile 7, and obviously our pace slowed as we reached the top.  When we got to the top, I was completed winded and my legs felt like jello, but I knew I had reserved some energy.  

At the top of the hill, we saw a Team in Training cheer team with a few familiar faces, which was reassuring (this was, in fact, a race benefiting the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society).  Once we rounded the top of the hill, we faced our biggest, steepest downhill.  We started the descent back down 150 ft of what we had just climbed.  The fog was thick, and the road was slippery.  And sometimes super steep downhills can be more challenging and treacherous than uphills.  But we maintained our footing and started cruising down the hill.

Mile 8 - 8:10

The downhill continued until about 3/4 of the way through mile 8.  What was great about this mile was that by the time we hit the next big climb at the end, I felt fully recovered and ready to tackle it.  My breathing was back to normal, my legs didn't feel like jello anymore, and I was ready to take on another hill.

Mile 9 - 9:02

We entered mile 9 a little ways into the next short climb.  We got a little bit of a flat break as we crossed over from the Presidio to Lincoln Park, and then as we rounded a corner...we saw it.  The Clement Street hill.  The cliff.  The last big one.  A close to 100' climb in a little over a 1/4 mile.  And here is where my mind started to give a little.

Luckily this hill looks a lot like Seattle hills.  An uphill block, a quick flat to cross the street.  Another long uphill block, and then another quick flat.  The way the hill was laid out, you could only see the first 4 blocks of the hill.  I looked at the blocks and thought, I can do this, I can make this.  My mind could get me there.  I took it block by block.  Step by step.  I knew there was more after those first 4 blocks, but I'd tackle that when I came to it.  Steadily, with Erica silently climbing at my side, I made it through the first 4 blocks.

As we hit the top of the the 4th block, I saw three more.  And for a moment, for just a moment, I thought, NO.  I didn't want to do it.  I didn't need to do it.  What was I trying to prove?  And then I remembered how disappointed I would be in myself if I didn't climb that hill, if I gave up on it.  I remembered that if I stopped running up this hill, I'd have to watch Erica get further and further away from me as she continued up the hill.  I'd have to run the rest of the race sad, tired, disappointed, and alone.  And so I kept running.  I kept pushing.  My legs kept moving.

I had that argument with myself about 5 times during those 3 blocks. DO IT No GET UP THE HILL But I'm hurting, this sucks STOP WHINING AND GET YOUR BODY UP THIS HILL No, I need to stop KEEP MOVING.  And then suddenly, I was at the top.  I did it.  HOLY CRAP I DID IT.  Best.  Feeling.  Ever.  I owned this race.  This day was mine.

Mile 10 - 8:24

Downhill, glorious downhill.  Rest, recover, revive, and keep moving.  I had remembered from the day before that Clement St. was the last big hill we faced (I even overheard a spectator as we climbed explain to another: "this is the last long hill of the race").  But somehow Erica had convinced herself that there was one more uphill.  So just as I was ready to feel relief, we started anticipating another hill.  But it never came.  Halfway through mile 10, as we cruised down the hill in a cloud of thick fog toward the beach, we realized there were no more big hills.  No more mountains to climb.

So we finally looked at our watches.  We did a little math, and suddenly we realized it.  We could PR.  If we kept up pace for the next 3 miles, we could beat our shared 1 hour 54 minute PR.  We could do this.  And so we started flying.

Mile 11 - 7:45

As we hit the flat along the beach, legs started moving faster than they ever had in a race before.  For 1 mile, it was the pounding of my feet and my heart that I heard as I ran.  But my breathing was getting too hard, my body was getting too tired.  And I still had 2 miles to go.  After we turned into Golden Gate Park and started another small steady incline to mile 12, just before the mile 11 marker, we saw a TNT coach from Seattle.  As I said hello and started talking to her, I realized just how heavily taxed I felt.  

And so I start to slow.  Just a bit.  Just to make it through those last 2 miles.  Erica kept up speed ahead of me, determined to beat the PR she'd been stuck at for her last 4 half marathons.  It was at mile 22 of our San Diego marathon that we split.  I think this is where my mental racing capacity begins to differ from Erica's.  I think she has just a little more strength than me to push through the pain and tough it out to the end.  In those final miles, she can keep going while my brain begins to fight against me.  But nonetheless, I kept running at a pretty good clip.

Mile 12 - 8:43

Solid, reliable 8:43. After Erica and I split, I decided to slow down just enough to leave myself some energy to power through the final mile.  My brain had the capacity to power through a mile, I didn't feel I could power through 3 at a sub-8 pace.  So I slowed up as I continued climbing the slight incline, passing a water stop as they had just begun setting up the tables.  At the mile 12 marker, the half marathoners split from the full marathoners.  The full marathoners kept going up another hill, and we turned around to go one mile back down to the finish.

Mile 13 - 8:02

And so, in mile 13, I left it all on the course.  I ran through the park.  I turned my brain off and focused on moving my feet.  I focused on moving forward.  Forgetting the pain.  Forgetting the negative thoughts, and just getting there.  I looked at my watch.  I could make this PR.  I could JUST make it.  And what a feeling that would be.

The Final .1 - (1 min. 43 sec., 7:02 avg pace)

As I came out of the park, rounded the corner onto the Great Highway, and spotted the finish line, I checked my watch one more time.  I could do this.  I COULD DO THIS.  And I sprinted with every ounce of energy I had left into the finish.  And I did it.  I PR'd the Nike Women's Half Marathon.  Holy crap.

Official Finish Time: 1:53:38

Over a minute faster than my last PR.  Average pace: 8:41. 843rd overall place out of 20,079 half marathon participants.  163rd out of 3,864 in my age group.  Not too shabby.  Not too shabby at all.

When I realized that I had actually PR'd this race, I couldn't stop smiling.  I couldn't believe it.  I hadn't thought it could actually happen.  But it did.  I made it happen.

Erica was there at the finish line, having finished a little over a minute before me, PRing as well.  We got our Tiffany's necklace from our tuxedoed fireman.  We picked up our finisher shirts, moseyed through the finish area, and tackled the "expotique" before it filled up with other finishers. 

Nope, we didn't look through the line for the hottest fireman to take a
picture with.  Not at all.

Then we hung around the finish line waiting for the rest of our friends to finish.

Erica, Amanda, me, Emmie, and Regan.  NWM Half finishers.  Yes we are.
Dorothy should be in this picture too, but she somehow manage to avoid it.

And then we went back to the hotel, showered, refreshed, and celebrated.

And the next day, Dorothy, Erica and I took a day trip out to Sonoma to celebrate some more.

We started with champagne (and managed to get Dorothy into a picture!).

Then we drank wine in the sun.  All day.  While it poured in Seattle.  Ha.

And then, just like that, it was all over.  The questions of the weekend were answered.  Yes, my tummy agreed with me.  Yes, my legs felt strong.  Yes, my mind stayed mostly positive.  Yes, I could PR.

But new questions formed.  As always.  Could I have powered through those last three miles without slowing pace?  Could I have pushed just a little bit harder at the end?  Could I have done just a little bit better?

So for those questions, there will be other races.  And other race days.  And other uncertainties waiting to be revealed.  Cheers to the next one.