I did something I never did before on race day: I hit the snooze button. I was exhausted. My head felt heavy. My face hurt. Was it race jitters? Or was it the flu? Whatever it was I had to shake it off and drag myself out of bed, I had one hour to get to the race.
Yesterday’s snow still covered the ground. Thousands of runners assembled near the starting line. I huddled deep inside the crowd to help block the bitter, cold wind. My nasal drip was getting worse, I tried my best to stifle another series of coughs and concentrate on the race ahead of me. I started bouncing up and down on the tips of my toes. (A poor attempt to keep my leg muscles from tightening up in the cold air.) When the bouncing stopped, the race began.
The 2020 Fred Lebow Half Marathon was 2+ loops around Central Park. Almost instantly my training kicked in! I surged over the formidable Harlem Hill with surprising ease. The rolling Three Sisters were up next. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. I was on fire! I felt great. My pacing was pitch-perfect. I ditched the GPS watch and ran by feel for the next 6 miles. Everything clicked flawlessly until—poof!—it didn’t.
At Mile 8 my legs suddenly shifted into 2nd gear without my permission. Did I hit a wall? I had my doubts. I wasn’t sore or tired. Maybe my body was trying to tell me something but I refused to listen! I continued to push myself as hard as I could for the next 5 miles.
I crossed the finish line 10 seconds faster than my last race. No PR but still pretty good. Unfortunately my celebration was short-lived. Just a few hours after the race I was knocked flat on my back! I spent the next 10 days in bed fighting the nastiest cold, unable to get out of bed, unable to do almost anything—except maybe plan my next race.
Official time: 2:00:09
Pace per mile: 9:10
Place overall: 2,387 of 5,283
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