Race report

The race ended up being a lot more fun than I ever thought it would be.

Basically, I worried about a lot of things in advance for no good reason.

The weather was perfect. It was probably the most beautiful day we've had this year. Sunny and breezy. Not hot, not cold. Just perfect.

I never had to use a porta potty. The lines were too long before the race started, and it only took one whiff of a set of porta potties along the route for me to make up my mind that there was no way in hell. And I never even had to go! It was like my bladder ceased to exist. It was amazing.

I never had to stop to walk. I ran very slowly, to the point where I was totally in the back with the walkers, but that's okay. I mastered the art of taking a cup of gatorade and drinking it without stopping even though it sometimes ended up all over my chin. I had it in my mind that I would run as slowly as I needed to go in order to not get so tired that I had to stop running, and it worked. I mean, I was tired, don't get me wrong, but I never felt like I was going to have to freak out and stop. There were high school and college students handing out gatorade every two miles or so, and a group of them started cheering as we approached, "Great job, walkers! Let's go, walkers!" Then one girl spotted me jogging at my turtle-y pace and yelled loudly, "And runners! Great job, runners!" That made me giggle.

My hips were a little sore, but they never bothered me the way they usually do. Maybe taking ibuprofin the night before and the morning of the race helped, as did possibly using this crazy thing on them the night before to try to loosen them up a little bit. So that was a relief.

At one point at about mile 10 while I was running around the bayou, a group of three little kids started storming towards me as if to tackle me, which was somewhat alarming, but they stopped when they reached me and stuck out their hands so I could give them high fives as I jogged by. That was sort of awesome.

There were groups of spectators handing out pretzels and little chunks of hamburgers and hotdogs and cocktails. (I passed.)

When I approached the overpass for the second and final time, James Brown came on and sang "Get Up Offa that Thing," which is the perfect overpass song. And between miles 11 and 12, Eminem appeared to sing "Lose Yourself," and those were my two favorite musical moments of the race.

(I had my shuffle in my pocket, having been persuaded by my sister the experienced racer that I probably shouldn't use it, but when I saw that 8 out of 10 people had them, I said fuck it and decided to use it. I am glad I did. I can see what she's saying that it's not really good etiquette and that it isolates you and keeps you from experiencing the great outdoors and the atmosphere and everything, but I kept mine turned low enough that I could talk and listen when necessary to the nice woman around me who struck up conversations with me every now and then about her Alaska marathon and her plantar fasciitis, and I certainly wasn't running near anyone would need to tell me to move so they could run past me. I could still hear the cheers and whatnot, so that was good.)

Sometimes I would forget I was in a crowd. I belched loudly after gulping back some gatorade at one point, felt myself turning red, and yelped, "Excuse me!" to anyone in my vicinity who might have heard me. And when listening to "I Get Along" by the Libertines, I said aloud the lyric, "Fuck 'em," and then I remembered that some folks around me didn't have earphones in and could definitely hear me. I hope they didn't think I was talking about them.

I was getting pretty tired and sort of bored by about mile 9, so I decided to open a small packet of strawberry/banana-flavored phlegm (I mean carb gel) and see if that would give me some energy. I ate it in tiny little squirts for about the next mile, and it was pretty disgusting, but I do think it helped. It did not make me feel like Jackie Joyner-Kersee, but it put a tiny bit of pep in my step and I was able to speed up a little for the last mile or two, which felt great. As a whole, the race was infinitely better than any of my training runs. Those were mostly such drudgery, but this one never felt that way at all.

I was happy to see my boyfriend, who'd finished the race more than an hour before like the speedster that he is, up on a ramp at the finish line. I was also glad to have finished in under three hours. I ate some orange slices and a half a banana and drank some gatorade and just enjoyed the post-race sunshine and camaraderie and then we headed home.

I feel this strange need now to set another goal because not having one anymore leaves me feeling sort of out of focus. But I'm going to give myself a little time to think that one over. I turn 32 the day after tomorrow, and I think running in this half-marathon was a good birthday gift to myself. I might barely be able to walk today, but I did what I set out to do, and I couldn't have done it at 22 or 25 or 30, and so maybe 32 will be a strong and healthy and fun age of new goals to achieve and adventures for me. I hope so.