Bucket List #43: Run a Half-Marathon… check!

If you’ve been an A Fete For Food reader, you could have guessed that this weekend, I’d be running the roads of Vermont.

On Friday evening, Tim and I packed up and headed to Manchester Center, Vermont for the Maple Leaf Half Marathon. This race has been going for 30 years (non-consecutively, with a few years where the race was not run) and used to be a training race for the New York Marathon.

Tim and I arrived around 9 p.m., and met a couple local friends for dinner at the Perfect Wife Restaurant. I ordered “The Howling Wolf”, which consisted of sweet potato hash atop a heap of brown rice, smothered in roasted, curried vegetables and, the best part, dried cherries! I would have photographed it, except I left my camera’s memory card in my computer. More on this almost disaster in a moment. We stayed and listened to the bluegrass band for a while, then headed back so we could get in a good night’s sleep before the big day.

The Big Day:

6:00 a.m. Woke up. Put on my best running gear and headed over to a breakfast cafe for the pre-race meal.

A grumpy chef/”waiter” took our order:

• 1 scrambled egg
• 2 slices of toast with butter and orange marmalade
• 1 cup of coffee
• 1 bite of blueberry muffin
• 1 G2 bottle
• water

After breakfast, we headed into town to preregister for the race and get ourselves stretched out. I was determined to find a memory card for my camera, so we stopped at Rite-Aid around 7:50 a.m. Not open until 8:00 a.m. Tim and I agreed that we’d go to the start line, register, and I would drive back to Rite-Aid to get the memory card. Everything worked exactly in that order, until I returned to the race site, and tried to pry open the impenetrable package that shrouded this memory card.

8:20 a.m. Race starts in 10 minutes. I am unsuccessfully fighting with this packaging while in line with every other racer at the Port-a-john. No luck. I tossed the mangled heap of plastic on my front seat and sprinted to the start line. I retied my shoes, wished Tim good luck, told him of my technology misfortune, and with no further ado (and no announcement, either, which was strange), the gun went off and we were running.

I went out at a decent pace, legs feeling great after a fantastic taper this week (only ran once, more out of lack of time than actually knowing what I was doing). I clocked a 7:37 for mile one and blinked in disbelief. I did not feel I was running that fast, but hey, I’d take it! Mile 2, 3, 4, and 5 flew by, and for a moment I thought that I’d make my goal of 2 hours, 15 minutes. A fleeting thought crossed my mind…

“GIIIIIIRL!!!! You may just break 2 hours! Imagine the glory!”

Then…

“Oh, crap. This pace is way too fast for me. This is my 5K pace. What am I DOING? Why do I feel this good? I guess I’ll keep it up until I can’t anymore.”

Mile 6 rolled around and I felt this tiny irritation on my inner arch. My feet were slightly wet from the light drizzle, and I had a blister. Nothing that I couldn’t work through or was too debilitating, but nonetheless, a blister. Mile 7 came up, and I grabbed some Gatorade. Feeling good. Mile 8 flew by, until the base of this mile-long uphill. Mile 9 was a complete uphill dirt road. But I kept pushing ahead. At this point I was 70% confident I could break 2 hours if I concentrated on keeping my breathing normal so I didn’t get a stitch, and NOT STOPPING. This hill was killer, but I had a guy on my tail with this watch that would alarm every 10 seconds. It was driving me crazy, but I decided to stay positive and think of it as motivation to run as fast and as far away from him as possible. I lost him on the downhill at mile 10, as I barreled down the hill and onto flat pavement I went. In my head, I saw only 3.1 more miles of running, which, even if I ran a 10 minute pace, I would break 2 hours. My legs felt good, and it didn’t seem like there were any more heart-breaking hills.

I actually smiled as I saw the 12 mile marker. I knew the terrain of the last mile, and knew I could do it. This was my longest distance. In all my training, the longest I had done was 12 miles. My legs were starting to fatigue, and my foot was throbbing, but I was almost there.

I crossed the finish line at 1:58:16 with a smile on my face and a tear in my eye.

I did it!

The high that I felt after finishing was like no other feeling I’ve ever felt before. The feelings of accomplishment and pride were overwhelming and well worth the hours of work I put into this life goal.

I felt strong, confident, and sure that no matter what comes my way, I can tackle it.

As I cooled down and stretched, I found out Tim had come in at an impressive 1 hour, 33 minutes, which meant he won 3rd place for his age group. Go Tim!

When Tim finished the race, he ran to my car, found someone with a pair of scissors (actually a large knife) and opened the memory card package. That’s how we were able to get some photos! After the race, we ate post-race goodies (Fage yogurt, bananas, and gatorade) cleaned up, rested, and then headed into Manchester Center for lunch and some shopping.

We ate lunch at a cute (everything in Manchester is cute) cafe. I was too hungry to photograph the delicious vegetarian chili and veggie/portabello sandwich.

We did some shopping at the outlets, which are a huge tourist attraction for this town, and spent some hours at the Northshire Bookstore, which is quite possibly the best bookstore in the country. The Strand in New York is great, but Northshire is exactly what you would expect in a rural Vermont town. I bought Julia: My Life in France. I’ll be reading this for an upcoming Mass. Dietetic Association book club event. Tim bought The Ultra Marathon Man.After a fun-filled day, we headed back home. Tim was enraptured in the book he bought, and read to me as we drove home. CRAZY STORY. Once I get a chance to read it, I’ll give it to a lucky blogger.

All in all, it was a great experience, and with my goal completed, I have developed some new goals. Tim and I discussed training for the Bay State marathon next year. I’d REALLY like to do the Nike Marathon in San Francisco, but it’s hard to get in. Even so, we’re sure we’ll be doing this race next year. 

Lastly, thanks to my great coach, mentor, and continual source of positive reinforcement. And photographer! Thanks Tim! :-)