My First Half

So after an eventful and, for the most part, sleepless night, My wife and I load up the car and start out on our hour drive to Madison where the race is. After a quick stop at Walgreens for some ziplock bags to protect my Ipod, I hit the bathroom one last time and head toward the starting line.

As I am walking over I hear an announcement that there is weather headed our way and that we should take shelter as we wait for it to pass. I'm kind of annoyed. I run in the rain and don't see a problem with doing it. I say goodbye to the wife and kid and wait under a buildings overhang to wait it out. I'm hoping it will pass quickly but it doesn't.

I pass the time listening to one of my favorite running podcasts, The 3 Non-Joggers. I find myself getting odd looks as I laugh outloud to myself. We wait for updates and finally an hour and a half later they inform us the weather has passed and that we will begin the race. When they say weather, they meant thunderstorms. It continued to rain for another hour into the race.

We get in our corrall and as the race begins we start that slow move towards the start line. As we get close House of Pains "Jump Around" plays (A UW Football Favorite). I jump with the song and it is the perfect warm up to get my heart rate in the zone. I cross the finish line and begin the first half mile that is for the most part, all uphill.

I start off a bit slow, keeping my heart rate lower as I know I have a long race ahead of me. I get passed by everyone. I feel like everyone was standing still as I was slowly drifting backward in a strong current. I convince myself I am sticking to my game plan and I will finish stronger than the rest of them.

My wife and my 18 month old son bear the weather with me and plan on meeting me 5 times throughout the race. I see them next to one of my many favorite bars from when I was a student on campus. My son gives me a high five and I keep moving.

I keep up a steady pace and continue on my way. The rain finally stops about 3 or 4 miles in. The course if filled with a mix of sun and shade. I welcome the bath of warmth and sunlight early on and my Irish skin basks in the shade as the race streches on. The hills are small and provide a nice break of flat course before you hit the next incline.

I really do love this course. A mix of city and woods really balances out the race. The aid stations are expertly ran. I continue on knowing I need to hit a restroom but each time I pass one, there is a line of 3 or 4 runners. At my current pace I just don't have the time to sit and wait.

After about 4 miles of passing up restrooms I accept that a wait is inevitable. I feel like time is flying by as I stand still waiting. I finially get my turn and am back on the course in no time. I get to the next aid station and what do I see? No line! Grrr.

About mile 9 I do the math and see that I can finish under 2:30 if I push myself for the next 4 miles. I see my wife about a 1/4 mile later and I am thinking "get the gels, can't stop, have to keep moving." I see how excited she is to see me and I realize what I should have been doing was stopping to say Hi, thanking her for her support, telling her to get her ass moving because I'm going to finish strong and if she doesn't hurry she'll miss me.I go somewhere in the middle. I grab my Gels, kiss my son, and my wife, and tell them I have to get moving.

I feel really strong at this point in the race. My wife later commented that most people she saw go by looks dead and I looked like a man on a mission. That's exactly how I felt. I can honestly say that no one passed me in the last 4 miles of this race. I was booking. But no matter how hard I push myself I can not see the 2:30 pace group. This part of the race is mainly flat and they are carrying 10 foot high signs that say 2:30.

I start to think that I'm not going to make 2:30 after all. I take a break at one of the water stations realizig my goal may be out of reach. I get back to my previous "bat out of hell" pace and decide to just finish it out. Then I see something I wasn't expecting. I was at the 11 mile mark and I could see the pace group headed the other way after the turn around. I put them at about the 11.5 mile mark. I watch their speed and I realize I can definitely catch up to them.

I continue to push and damn near sprint the last 2 miles. I am flying by runners that are walking or those bastards that are done with the race and decided to travel back through the course with their finisher medals. Don't do that people. No one likes you when you do that. I continue to run and I still don't see the pace group.

My Garmin is a bit off and I don't know exactly where the finish is. I fear I don't have enough race to find these pacers and my watch says its going to be close. I finally run off the biking path we've been running on, make it around a building, and hit the road once more. I look up and see 2 guys in bright yellow jackets holding a large sign that says 2:30.

I finally catch and pass them on the inside as I round the corner for the last tenth of mile of the race. I cross the line and finish my first Half Marathon at 2:28:47. I feel great. I refuel, change clothes, grab a beer, and meet up with a few friends at the Union's Terrace over looking Lake Mendota. I already signed up for my next Half Marathon on Halloween. Any costume ideas?

Pre-Race Preparation

I laid out my clothes. I charged my trinkets. I set my alarms and I wrote out everything I was worried about. I went to sleep and felt good. Until...

A. I had a bizarre dream that I was fighting with Dan Patrick. You know, the guy from Sportcenter that would break out the Boo-yas, En Fuegos, and the Wiff. I listen to his radio show everyday and plan on listening to it during the run. So is this my mind struggling with the race? Who knows. Quite weird.

B. Then I get back to sleep for about a half an hour. A very light sleep might I add. All of a sudden my 18 month old son starts to stand up in his crib and cry at 4 am. And he does. not. stop. My wife got up and gave him a bottle and read to him as I tried to sleep. No luck. He continues to cry. We decide to let him and he wails for 20 minutes. I finally get him out of bed and he isn't upset, he isn't hungry, he doesn't want his bottle, HE IS AWAKE FOR THE DAY.

Our son has slept through the night since he was 3 months old. Put him down at 8 and he will get up at 7 on the dot. Now I am up and writing this post as he plays with trains, makes mooing sounds, and generally runs around the house playing with door knobs like he always does.

Where was Connor on that episode of Seinfeld when they needed to be woken up for the Marathon?

Day Before the Race Jitters

Did I eat too much crap? Did I drink enough water? Do I have all my gear? Are all my electronics charged up? Do I know where to park? Will my wife make me late? It's supposed to rain, what do I need to do? What if I have the runs? What if I miss my wife and she has my GU? What if I forget something? What if I over sleep? What if I can't sleep? What if I start too fast? What if I start too slow? What if I don't finish? Do my legs ache or is that just in my head?

Do I need to tell you I am a tad nervous?

My Journey

How the hell did I get hooked on this sport...

It all started with some college friends of mine wanting to reunite for the Crazy Legs Classic, a 5 mile race in Madison, WI put on the by the UW Badger Athletic program. After a few years of training a month before the race then giving up, something weird happened.

I started to enjoy running. Desperately in need of a transformation I decided to give it a try. I had the shoes, I had some running clothes, so why not? I found when I pushed myself to run farther and faster by body responded surprisingly well. The dormant athlete inside of me was just waiting to be awaken. Granted, I am no where near as fit as I once was, but I have made huge gains in very little time.

So why did I need a change? I was a 3 sport athlete in High School. Constantly at a practice or running around playing sports with my friends. Then college came. I replaced pitching with pitchers. I went from dominating 4 quarters at a time to dominating AT quarters. I went from taking 3 point shots to Jaeger shots. You get the idea.

So my 185 lbs. quickly climbed to 230 by the time I left college. Then it was off to the real world. Maybe I would leave most of that binge drinking behind and get back into shape. Well I did slow down on my drinking quite a bit. But a new obstacle was ahead of me, an endless supply of bacon.

I know what you are thinking. What the hell is this guy complaining about? He has every mans dream, 60 varieties of Bacon at his disposal whenever he feels like it. And I am talking good bacon too. Not just the regular kind; Applewood smoked, Nitrite Free, Honey Cured, Maple Pepper, Cob smoked, Pecanwood Smoked, Jalapeno, Sugar Cured, thick, thin, anything. Basically all the designer bacon you see in your high end bistros and breakfast nooks.

And it's my job to eat that on a daily basis. About 4 times a year I spend an entire day standing next to a bottomless tray of warm delicious bacon. I have to sell it to chefs and sampling is apart of the sales pitch. But it's not just Bacon. Pulled Pork, Brisket, Sausage, Pot Roast, Proscuitto, Salami, etc. Basically if there is something that can take years off your life, we probably sell it. And on top of that I spend about 15 hours a week sitting in my car driving to and from accounts.

So my 230 at college slowly climbed to 249. I dug in my heals. I refused to hit the 250 lb. mark. It was just a symbolic number that woke me up and told me I needed a drastic change. I started to log my calories to get an idea of how much I was eating in a day 3,500 calories on average.

Something had to change. That something was me!

To Run or Not to Run

That is the question. I run my first Half Marathon in 4 days. I must admit, part of me is terrified. I felt good with my training and the way it was going until a fishing trip up north prevented me from getting my long run in. The motivation to run didn't come to me in the morning after a late night of playing poker with the boys.

I chalked up missing my run to a taper week. I was ok with it as long as I get a couple solid runs in the week before (today). Then I got sick. I woke up Monday with sore throat, achey legs, and a pounding headache.

I've been getting plenty of rest and forcing fluids. I've been eating more fruits and veggies to help recover. I skipped my 3 mile run tonight but plan on getting up early to get 7 miles in. I just can't tell if it's time to run or time to rest.

I guess we'll find out come Saturday.