I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and talking with my husband about this past weekend’s race. I’ve also been beating myself up over my slow-as-heck time. And I think I’m ready to get into the bad side of the race.
My husband was at a water stop and grabbed a cup of water. Another runner yelled at him, “drink it or wear it!” Um. Really? Did he really say that? Yep. And husband had no idea why. It wasn’t like he was in the guy’s way…nor did he take the other guy’s water. Just. plain. rude. and I hope husband beat the rude guy. I guess I’ll never know.
Medical help was almost non-existent in this race. We saw it between miles 3 and 4, and I asked where the next medical table was, and the guy was like, “at the finish line.” I replied something to the effect of, “ok, I’ll just go through the next 10 miles with this sharp pain in my shin. No problem!” And I kept moving.
Bathrooms were few and far between. That kind of sucked. Where there were bathrooms, there was only one. For 1000 runners. Not cool.
The hills. Not so great.
I ran into a car as I was coming around to the finish. I was literally a third of a mile from the finish and a car with TWO RUNNERS drove in front of me. I yelled, one girl gave a scared look, and then I almost hit her car. Runners should know more than anyone that you don’t drive into a race course. Idiots.
And finally, I just don’t think I was in race mode this weekend. I run great with others during training runs, but I think I may run better on my own during races – I can focus more on the race and less with keeping someone else’s pace. In three half marathons I’ve run in a strange city on my own, I’ve been able to set my own pace, slow down or speed up as needed, and keep things going with my music. I even went into this race with the mindset that it was training. We’re considering a half marathon in November, so I am definitely going to test this theory. (I definitely will not give up training with my running friends.)