I stepped off the ferry ready to run a sub-2-hour half marathon for the first time in 4 long years! And maybe, if I am very lucky, beat my PR.
It was an ambitious goal. I needed to run 7 minutes faster than my last race, that’s 30 seconds faster per minute. Happily, for this race, a friend volunteered to pace me so I can focus solely on my running. I met up with Dan just before the start of the race.
“Now I know how much you love to talk,” said Dan with a smile, “but for next 2 hours let’s concentrate on our breathing instead of talking.”
I chuckled. I already had no plans to chit-chat, conserving my energy was a priority, I ran the Staten Island Half once before, I remember it being a deceptively hilly course especially the back-end.
We started the race running a conservative 9:00 pace, already 40 seconds faster than my last race. Almost immediately my heart rate began to rise, by Mile 2 it was already hovering around 170 bpm. I was already running near my maximum effort! That was not a good sign.
At Mile 4, as planned, Dan increased the pace to 8:50. He glanced back to see if I was still hanging in there. “How do you feel?” he asked.
“I feel good!” I answered. I think they call that a half-truth.
For the next 5 miles we ran a steady 8:45 pace, which was slightly faster than our intended pace. Dan was secretly banking time, wisely anticipating the steep hill up ahead.
At Mile 9 we started up the big hill! My heart was beating like a jackhammer. My pace slowed to a ridiculous crawl. Those 4 minutes felt like eternity. Dan nervously kept checking his watch, performing quick math in his head.
At the top of hill Dan gave me the, “Good news. Bad news. First, the bad news: beating your PR is now impossible. The good news: a sub-2-hour is still possible but it’s going to be extremely close.”
I spent the next mile catching my breath and battling a couple of hills at the same time. My speed was up and down. At Mile 11 I got my second wind and started running an 8:50 pace again, unfortunately I was only able to hold that fast pace for one more mile. My legs were still strong but my heart was now having a difficult time delivering enough oxygen to my muscles. Around Mile 12 we were running a slow but steady 9:20 pace.
“Does it hurt?” Dan asked.
“It does hurt,” I replied.
“It should hurt more!” Dan yelled back.
The last mile was all uphill! I was now working twice as hard to run the same speed. Everything I was doing felt impossible but I refused to stop doing it.
“Run harder! Harder!” Dan yelled. “Leave nothing inside. Give it all you got! It’s going to be close. Very close! Every…second…counts!”
I saw the finish line up ahead!
I took a deep breath and used my last ounce of willpower to muster up a very sad sprint. Everything was cranking as fast as possible…my legs…my arms…my heart…everything was on fire.
I crossed the finish line just in the nick of time. I was walking but I could feel my heart still racing inside my chest. Everything was swirling! Dan was talking to me but I couldn’t understand the words. Something was shoved into my hand. It startled me. I tried to locate my hand to see what it was but I couldn’t find my own hand! The object felt cold…like metal…I was holding my finishing metal. Suddenly everything around me fell back into place!
Dan checked his iPhone for the official time. 2:00:19. I was 19 seconds over 2 hours! I averaged a 9:11 pace. 2 seconds too slow.
Dan and I joked about the 19 seconds. It was kind of funny. Of course I was also a little disappointed. Being so close did hurt but I still had much to celebrate. 2:00:19 was my second best time. I was also faster than 55% of all the runners. My hard work did pay off. And Dan was a big help!
So I stopped all the “what ifs”. I thanked Dan. I hugged my wife. I hugged Nancy, my biggest fan. Then I focused on tomorrow. Someday, perhaps my next race, those 19 seconds will become a funny footnote. And maybe, if I am very lucky, I will blow away my PR.
Official time: 2:00:19
Pace per mile: 9:11
Place overall: 4,491 of 9,975
No Comments