Did you have fun?

I really enjoyed the Wine and Dine Half marathon, but as the days since the event have passed, I keep getting asked the same question. Did you have a good time? Well, now that this isn’t my first half marathon, I knew what to expect. Well, I thought I knew what to expect, but as the event progressed, I realized that each event is separate and unique. Having only run a handful of races, I am constantly amazed at the power of finishing. But, just as often, there are times when I don’t think I can go any faster, I don’t think I can go any farther, I don’t know if I can continue to breath. Its an odd sensation, but eventually you realize that you are indeed going to finish, but is it fun? 

No, its not fun. Its a hell of a lot of work. I’ve said this before, I don’t think of myself as a runner. I think of myself as a cheapskate who chose to run because it wasn’t going to cost me anything. Although that’s not exactly true, its has cost me plenty, I didn’t have to put out that money all at once. I don’t have to answer to anyone, well, I at least don’t have to answer to anyone while I’m running. I often have to find the time to cram it into my schedule. I have to find time, energy, and a willingness to get off my dead ass. So when I get out there, I am often also looking at the clock. I have to hit my target and get back home in time for this, or for that, or for both!

Am I enjoying myself. Well, no, five miles into my last 13, I lost my nip-guards. I’ve joked about this before, but it is no joke. I stopped running, (costing me my under 2 hour half marathon - of course stopping for picts with Goofy didn’t help either!), dug out my spare set and tried to apply them to my sweaty, hairy, wet body. The slipped off before I finished that mile and I still had nearly 7 to go. They were on fire, and I’m sure bleeding profusely, but what was I to do. Stop? No! I was wearing a red shirt, blood is read, so I just pressed onward and kept going. The burning increased and sometimes, I had to just lift my shirt off my chest, but that is only a temporary solution and gets worse when you drop the shirt on the nips again. I’m too self conscious to take that shirt off and finish without it. Not to mention, no one wants to see some old hairy sweaty guy crossing the finish line. My shirt is my security blanket and I’m not going to loose it that easily. (Not yet) They make duct tape, next race, I’ll shave and apply some.

Am I enjoying myself? Did I have fun? Well, my shins gave me trouble from mile 1 to mile 4, the pain would sometimes be intense, but would dull. My headphones clicked against my earrings (yeah I know, earrings on a guy, how 80’s) and eventually the new headphones had to be pulled off and carried. The new shoes worked good, but I chose thin socks that didn’t really work for me. No blisters, but by the end they were saturated and slid around a bunch. My phone stopped tracking me and I lost one and half miles of progress and had to force myself to stop checking my watch and worrying about my pace. 

Did I have fun? Around mile 7 I realized that if I am really training for a marathon, I would only be just past a quarter of the way there. I was exhausted already and knew I couldn’t keep my current pace. I started to despair the idea of running 26 miles in January. I realized that next week I would have to run another one of these, but without the glitz of a race. I would have to drive myself to some trail and run for two hours just to keep my miles up while fighting fatigue, bikers, and the sun. I would have to hit the gym late at night when my tasks were done for pacing on the treadmill and weight training. 

Am I enjoying myself? No. Did I enjoy the race? No. Did I enjoy the finish? Hell yes! Did it make up for the race? You bet your ass it did. Medal around my neck, breathing deep and hard, sucking down the water, yeah I enjoyed it immensely.