I finished my first half marathon today. First phase of a longer journey: a full marathon, to be completed later this year. But for now, I just need to reflect on how I got to this point.
I started this quest back in early January 2024. It wasn’t a New Year’s Resolution, but rather my Misogi; an annual challenge that I bestowed upon myself to signal that 2024 had some real purpose and meaning. At the time, the word ‘marathon’ sounded daunting, and frankly still does.
First step with anything daunting: break it into chunks. Don’t try and bite off the whole thing at once. At the start of this I hadn’t run longer than 3-4 miles since high school. And frankly the shock that that is over half of my life ago now was a wake up call. You can now call that “a past life.”
The plan at the time was to run a couple half marathons over the course of the year to get used to the “event” of running. And learn a little about myself and my health too. Since then I keep adding events to my schedule, but I am getting ahead of myself in this story.
January isn’t a warm month here in Kansas City, but I decided to take my first run on this training plan outside. Heavy sweats, a fleece sweater and gloves, as well as a hat knit like a raccoon to round out that “newbie” vibe I was putting off.
Then, I opened the door and set off on a 3 mile run.
There are only a few things I remember about that run.
One, it was a common training route I still run to this day. Not because it is anything special, but because it is 3 miles and I don’t have any challenging road crossings or places where a car may sneak up on me.
Two, I was huffing and puffing for air.
And three, I finished the route in roughly 33 minutes, basically 11:00/miles.
But it was a start. The journey was underway.
Over the next 13 – 14 weeks I would be showing up for 5 out of the 7 days of the week to run at least 15 minutes a day. I used an app created by Nike, called the Nike Run Club, and was guided along by Coach Bennett and his band of wonderful coaches. They took me on long runs, short runs, fast runs, and hard runs.
At the beginning, they made it clear they are only assistant coaches. I am the head coach and athlete, and they were only there to help out. Kind of like life.
Lesson #1: I am in charge. I make the calls, and I take assistance from the coaches of the world as I go along. That is a much more intentional place to start from. I like that.
A the start it was a long road to look down, but in retrospect it was merely a short block.
This was lesson #2: Always plan to traverse a long journey, rather than the short distance your mind wants you to believe. Your brain is not smart. It uses the past as reference for what will happen in the future. But you always look at the past as if it happened not so long ago, see above high school felt like last week. And running through thoughts takes a fraction of the time completing the task took.
There were bad days along the way for sure. Days when I really didn’t want to run. Days on vacation when sitting on the beach sounded better than the 10 miles I needed to put in. But I showed up. Call that lesson #3. Just show up.
Frankly a lot of the days were not my favorite. For the first five weeks, the huffing and puffing didn’t stop. But over time it got better. And truly after those first five weeks, I felt like I could catch my breath just about anywhere. This is where running actually started to get, dare I say “fun”?
The weird thing about the running was the improvement in mood. I am not sure I ever felt a runners high, at least not yet. But I have been in a zone. Kind of like a flow state. Maybe that is it? I dunno. But after a run, and a little bit of a cool down, it was far easier to stay in a better mood. I wasn’t as anxious. I wasn’t as snappy. I just was. There is a lesson #4 in there somewhere.
When I started the journey I ran most of the runs in the middle of the day. It was cold out, so I tried to catch it when it was warmest. But doing these runs later in the day only gave me that feeling of ‘just being’ for half the day. That and the runs got a lot more distracting in the middle of the day. So, I finally decided to try them out early in the morning. Like early, early. Out the door by 5 am early. I found the benefits lasted a lot more of the day. What the people say about moving being a natural anti-depression/anti-anxiety medicine rings true! So, lesson #5: Get the work done early. Reap the rewards the rest of the day.
I was never really nervous about the big day. I think a lot of this came from never really being afraid of not finishing. I had run 12.5 miles at the peak of training, without stopping, and knew that even if I had to back off and move at a glacial pace, I would finish. And besides, it was only a stepping stone in the process of the bigger goal of 26.2 miles.
But then I went and did something that after looking back on it was detrimental. I set this bar in my head of finishing it under 2 hours. Suddenly this event had a line drawn in the sand, that I would be a failure if I didn’t hit this stretch goal. And just like that, the nerves flowed in. On the morning of the race, all the sudden it was “important to me” and things were different. Not bad different, but this wasn’t just another day out for a run. Lesson #6: Setting unrealistic expectations, when realistic ones will suffice, is dumb.
The other aspect that got my nerves up were the amount of people. And I didn’t know any of them. I will have to address this in a future life, but large crowds like this just make me nervous, and I find myself slipping into an invisible place. I made it through, but was aware of this feeling. Next time, I need to enter that space with a different energy (Lesson #7).
So let’s talk about the race. I gave two shits, not the saying but I actually did before I left the house. I didn’t want any issues with my stomach stuff. Luckily I had none all day.
My lovely wife dropped me off across the street from the large office park that was hosting the finishing line party. I walked over, following the line of people aimlessly. I was a follower, not a leader. Doing that sheepish thing you do when you have no idea where you are going.
When I got to the main area, I waited in line to pee out any of the excess 32 ounces of water I drank upon waking up. Wild how long the lines were for the amount of port-a-potties there were. I did my business and then walked the finish line of the race. I ran about a half mile of warm up pace, probably a bit too early, but it gave me time to go stand in another port-a-potty line and squeeze out one more round. I definitely wanted nothing to do with having to stop on this run.
After I finished I made my way down to the starting line. Everyone had received the message, besides me, that we needed to line up. I snuck into the starting pit through the metal barrier fence. Locked and loaded.
They played some person’s recorded (I think) rendition of the national anthem, and I took off my hat. That’s when the nerves washed away. It was just me now. No other needs had to be filled in this moment. I just had to run.
The race starter sent off the AA and A waves first. These are the people who have times I am not sure I have interest in achieving. The winner ran this route in 1:10:11, or 5:21/mile pace… That takes a level of dedication and training I am not sure I want to give the sport. But then again it is early in my running career…
We all shuffled up towards the line, and the B wave went off (people who were going to finish in the 1:50 – 2:00 mark). Then my wave shuffled up to the line, and with a “3-2-1-Go” we were off… slowly… I think I walked over the starting line. but as things thinned out, we got going.
I didn’t feel like I started off fast. I felt comfortable, and my mindset was to stay comfortable at least for the first mile. That was where the first hill would come in. There the work would really start. Even in my slow starting pace, I found myself running around people on the edge of the road. I felt fast in a way as I passed people.
When we started running uphill, I felt comfortable. The training I had run and the routes I ran were well tailored to the effort needed on this run. I don’t think I struggled at all during those first three miles up to 75th Street. The first person I saw that I knew was my neighbor and good friend, Jack, who graciously made the ride out to come see me and cheer me on. He snapped some good pics and I kept grooving.
The next people I saw were my wife and daughter who were right where they said they would be at 75th Street. Almost as if they were marking the highest point of the race. I got to them about 3 minutes faster than planned, or running about 1:00/mile faster than I should have.
But seeing them was a jolt of energy. I tossed them my long sleeve I had started the race with, and was at full cruising altitude at that point. It was time to race.
I picked up the pace.
It was refreshing running on the road rather than the sidewalk. I never really felt like I needed to look down. So I watched the people around me and the line of racers ahead of me. It was pretty cool to see the whole road width filled with runners marching towards the next mile marker.
When we reached the neighborhoods, mile 5, I felt good. My pace was strong and I was steadily passing people. But about a mile into it, something I never had happen on any of my training runs before happened. I started to get this little flutter in my heart. And it was one I am not sure was a good one. I looked down at my heart rate monitor. 183 bpm. I had probably been carrying that rate for the entire race. I started to panic that I had over worked my heart a little. The last thing I wanted to do was have a heart attack in the middle of the route.
I backed off the pace. At mile 6 I decided I needed to get some nutrients and vitamins into me, and maybe that would help the flutter. I downed my first Honey Stinger Gold. Not sure if it helped or not, but I was running a little slower anyways if nothing else to get my mind right about the worrisome heart activity.
The next three miles were the lowest point of the race for me. I never really felt like I was going to have to stop. I always knew there were a lot lower gears I could shift into, so that wasn’t the worry. The main worry was the passing out and getting trampled. Ok that wasn’t a worry either.
It was during this stretch that the 2:00 pacer that I had passed earlier, retook the lead. And I had to admit to myself, that I was not going to finish in 2 hours. Once I swallowed that, around mile 9, the race became another run again. And I just started running. The flutter never came back.
This was also about the second time I saw Johana and Eliana, and the first time I saw Marcos. I almost ran right past them. A nice gentleman behind me gave a loud “Hey Ed” that snapped me out of my zone, and I captured a glimpse of them. They hopped on their bikes, and rode the rest of the race with me. It was nice to finally have running partners.
Around mile 10, the most strenuous part of the race caught me by surprise. In all of my scouting of the route, I never remembered this part being a hill. It was a long and steady incline with a sneaky little peak at the end. My running partners helped keep me motivated during this stretch and I ultimately summited it. I caught my breath on the backside and carried on. The rest of the course was exactly what my mind had planned, and it felt like it should of.
Just before mile 12, my AirPods chirped in my ears, a text from my buddy Steve, something along the lines of “Text message from Steve says: ‘Thinking about you as you run that course today. When you hit the one more mile to go marker, you give it all you got.” He couldn’t have texted me at the more perfect time. As I passed mile 12, I kicked it up a gear. I used the downhill to my advantage, and put in my best mile pace of the day.
As I ran into the final gated stretch I heard someone yell, what seemed to be towards me. But my legs were cranking and all I was trying to do was get to the finish line. It turned out to be my most wonderful mother-in-law, and it was so good to have even more support.
I crossed the finish line with the timer saying 2:04:38. I had already admitted 2 hours was not happening. I smiled and pointed up at the clock anyways, just incase there was a cool finish line pic to be had. I teared up for a brief minute, proud of myself for coming this far on this journey, but didn’t take time to relish in that as I was being shuffled through to make way for other finishers.
I grabbed my finisher’s medal and a bottle of water and started to walk to high ground so I could find my running partners. I got to a grassy hill and found the loving embrace of my wife. She gave me a huge hug and kiss whispering how proud of me she was. My daughter bear hugged my leg. I am not sure I have ever felt so at peace as that moment of true love coming from all three people engaged in that embrace.
The final, and largest, lesson that became evident for me during this run, is our desire to be seen. To have a witness of our life’s accomplishments. Having people witness your achievements makes life fulfilling. You can’t have witnesses if you can’t witness others. You can’t have witnesses if you keep your goals inside. You can’t have witnesses if you don’t show up to your events. And all these witnesses can’t acknowledge your successes if you don’t let them.
Moments later I got a text notification… my official race time 2:00.28… I didn’t “officially” hit that sub-2 hour mark, but I didn’t care. I was already at peace. I had earned everything I wanted out of that day.
My wife later gave me a card upon returning home from the race. She concluded by writing “To many more races, challenges, obstacles. To combating fear. To proving to yourself that you can do hard stuff. To pushing your body, mind, and soul. I am so proud of you today, and always. Te amo, Johana”
I am not sure I could have summed up this better myself.