Over 2000 people can't be wrong.

For those of you who know me on Facebook, you've probably put together the fact that I did, indeed, run in a half-marathon this past weekend.
Yes, I did it on busted up ankle . . .
Yes, I did it in the pouring rain . . .
Yes, it blew my mind and I had an incredible time!

2: 04:44 - that's a 9:31 min./mile pace.

I think I can feel good about that.

As for the ankle, it hurt the entire time. It hurt from the moment I got up that morning. There was more pain than there had been in days . . . but then, I had been training on it trying to see if the pain would be too much to actually do the race. I sucked it up and ran anyway.

Reader, let me tell you - it was twice the size of my other ankle for two days. I'm actually going out for a run this morning - we'll see how it holds up.

Now for the weather. It was pouring rain the entire time. And I don't mean a light drizzle. It was a sheet of rain for about half of the race. We ran through puddles (more like lakes) where the water covered our shoes. They changed the course and directed us around things due to 1/4 mile pieces of ground that were submerged. We ran though mud, lots of mud and were leaping over pieces of the course that were water logged and un-passable.

Was I doing a half-marathon or a steeple chase?

It was also a tight course, I bumped elbows with a lot of folks. It was hard to pass people due to the lack of room and often times there were frequent bottle necks. I was more than a little weird-ed out running with that many people. I'm a solitary runner. I don't even have a running club. (Which I need to change.) But it was exciting. Runnign alongside that many people was a high unto itself.

And the support of folks got me more than a little misty eyed. Those folks who had people supporting them with banners. Where even being there was an accomplishment. Cancer survivors, folks there for weight loss, or good people who were running for the memory of someone or to raise money for a cause . . . yeah, I got misty eyed more than once. But then I'm a sentimental boob.

Then there were the people who were hanging out of their windows banging on pots and pans cheering us on. I know no one was cheering for me - but it was still cool.

And the volunteers! Holy crap those people need a round of thanks. They were incredible. Encouraging us and providing water or re-staking the course to we could cross it and keep going, they were standing in that rain for hours - it was wet and cold and they were up before I was and all I can say is thank you and I very much need to volunteer at a race so I can return the favor.

Oh! And I had a race-mance.

It was lonely running in that race. In the beginning I was nervous and had no one to talk to or share my experience with. I had butterflies in my stomach along with a feeling of loneliness and despair. (It's moments like these that I wish my girlfriend or any of my friends ran - I wish I could share with them the feelings in my chest - but they just won't get it. Same thing happens when I talk about jiu jitsu . . . their eyes glaze over and they may pretend to care & understand but deep down inside I know they are humoring me.)

So there I was, lined up at the back of the race. (I'm not confident enough to start towards the front - even though I know I could shave a minute or two off my time if I started farther forward.) My stomach was all atwitter, rain was coming at this point in a light mist (it had been raining all morning and night) and I was filled with loneliness that I had no one to share this moment with. My first real race surrounded by over 2000 people who came together for no other reason than to run.

In the beginning, out of fear of gassing, I paced myself off of a few people who looked like they knew what they were doing. It started out a 13 min pace then slowly we crept up to a 10:30 pace. We were still packed so tight that it was hard to open up and pass people. I started making small talk with some folks but very few people were having it. Not a lot of people wanted a talker . . . I was rejected politely time and time again. I tried to join other groups - no one would have me. It was like some horrible version of high school and I'm the new kid and no one wants to be my friend.

Finally we pick the up the pace to a steady 9:15 pace. It's a comfy, fun and manageable pace for 13.1 miles.

We are in Liberty State Park diving over puddles and people I make a snarky remark and a young woman next to me responds . . .

What!

Someone else who is alone out here and wants to converse!

Hooray!

So Lauren and I settle into our pace. A lovely 9:05-9:30 pace. We share our hopes, dreams & wishes - what we want out of life - are we ever going to do a marathon. It was awesome. Why? Because I had someone to talk to get my mind off of myself. I was able to rise up and out of my ridiculous circumstances (and not focus on my own misery) and I had someone else there to push and motivate me. (Although towards the end she was talking about her need to vomit so maybe I was pushing her?)

Lauren was also gracious enough to let me open up my pace the last half mile. I could have opened it up the last 3 miles and clipped them off at a solid 7 - 7:30 pace, but I didn't want to leave a soldier behind. Lauren encouraged me to open up my stride and let my legs go, so I did for the last 1/2 mile. It felt really good.

Then I realized that if I could have gotten Lauren to push it a little more earlier on -we could have both come in under 2 hours. But alas -what was more important, connecting with a human being or finishing under 2? It was my first race so I was happy to make a connection.

I have also learned the huge lesson of dry clothes and not to trust your girlfriend with them. She left my rain coat at home. So there I was rapidly cooling down in the rain with no way to keep the rain off. That was perhaps one of the most miserable mile walks ever. My body started to seize up on me. It felt like hypothermia was setting in. So next time, I'm not asking her to bring anything. I'm just going to check it all and have dry warm clothes for after. It will allow me to stretch & cool down and hopefully have a much more comfortable trip home.

I'm thinking about my running future. I'm going to join the Hoboken Harriers so I have someone to run with. I also am going to join New York Road Runners. I've decided that I will do the Queens Half, the Philly Half, this race and the Staten Island Half and make that my running season. But then I got to thinking . . . if I'm racing that much next year. Why not join NYRR, do their 9 qualifying races and volunteer at one and qualify for the NY Marathon?

Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself.

Right now, I need to think about my next race. Oct 11th is the Staten Island Half. I'm determined to finish under 2. I figure with better conditions and a happier ankle I should be able to do it.
But now I'm wondering - what if I'm like those racehorses that love the slop? What if I need crappy conditions to run?

I guess only a few more races and time will tell.

Until next time true believers . . .