Back in... oh, let's call it April, my friend asked if I would do a half-marathon with her. Beaming with pride, excitement, and a little alcohol, I said yes.
And then proceeded to not even half-ass my way through the training. I was signed up, and that's about it. Long runs? What are those. Speed? Hills? I know not of these concepts.
Except I do. It's my fourth half, and I really know better. For weeks, I agonized how to tell my friend that I wouldn't be able to run it with her, that I would be unable to keep that promise.
And then two days before, I said fuck that, I'm going to run/walk/limp my ass through this half marathon and as long as I don't actually die, it will be okay.
My friend and I met at the startline of the race one cool August morning. We chatted on how unprepared we felt, how we were throwing expected times out the window. And sooner or later, we were off.
She actually left me within about two or three kilometers. I didn't mind so much. The cracked and patched road of Jasper Ave. was only exciting in trying to not trip and twist a joint. At first, my body wanted to die. And then it was okay with this. By the fifth kilometer, I thought, "Shit, this is going to suck," and by the eight, my knees joined in. But right around there, people started coming out with the signs:
'Ryan Gosling's at the finish line.'
'I wish my boyfriend was as committed as you.'
A picture of Grumpy Cat, advising us the finish was no where close. I loved that last one best.One of the nice things of this run was that it varied more than the first year I ran this race, two years ago. We also ran through some beautiful (rich) neighbourhoods in Edmonton. One man wore a shirt on The Blerch. I saw Superwoman run past me. Around 9 km, I saw a woman from my youth, who I've yet to find in the results - she was faster than me.
The turn-around point was downhill, so you had to go right back uphill after. I didn't mind, though - the one problem with 'flat and fast' is there's no variety in the terrain. At that point, the marathoners were hitting us, already having run 30km first. I had little pride to keep, except that one foot kept going in front of the other, and dammit, I was going to finish this race running.
I also got in my traditional high-fiving of a cop along the way, though this time, I high-fived FOUR cops to keep myself amused. And hopefully them too.
I did get to talking with one woman, who talked about her IT bands. We commiserated over aching body parts, until I pulled ahead of her for a while. The usual game of leap-frog ensued with her, myself, and a woman twice my age looking awesome in black spandex. I kid you not.
Closing in on the finish line, I crossed paths with my friend who had finished the race in just over two hours. I still feel slightly out of my league but today, I am okay with this. Finally, the end loomed, across the cracked and pitted surface of Jasper Avenue (better than last time's start at Northlands Park, but there are nicer surfaces). Miss IT Band caught up with me and said let's finish this running, and how can I say no to that? We crossed it at a run, possibly the fastest pace I've managed all race, but we were running and if we weren't smiling, we were soon after when the medal was draped over my neck.
And of course, my REAL prize for finishing the race? A beer and short-rib Eggs Benedict at Brewsters. Now THAT is worth running a race for.
