The race started at 6:00pm. It was a perfect crisp day for an autumn run. The eight or so people who were running met at the Tech Student Development Complex parking lot and then took a short warm-up walk to where the race would start. Agustin, a PhD student at Tech would give the countdown while his little daughter cheered everyone, especially her mom, who happened to be my pacer.
With the honk of a car’s horn, everyone speeds down the first stretch of the course. Everyone, except me. My pacer, Lilia, and coach Rick are by my side helping me relax and talking me through the course. A few minutes into the race, Lilia speeds up about a car’s length in front of me and holds that position for the 2 hours plus that would follow. Rick goes back and forth giving some running tips and talking of his recently finished Ironman experience to help keep me focused while not over-thinking the run.
We hit the first aid station and Agustin is there to give us shots of Gatorade. Lilia and I take our shots and keep running. Rick stays back to talk to Augustine — he’s running the race, coaching me, and directing it at the same time. Lilia holds back her position a little bit to talk to me. We talk about the book, Born to Run, and how the author makes it seem like anyone can run an ultra-marathon. I’m somewhat inspired.
We’ve been running for less than an hour and we see two girls running towards us — one of them is an ex-coach for Indiana U’s swimming team and a triathlete. I’m thinking, Dude, these girls are fast! My coach tells me they turned around before the half-way mark. Many of the runners really showed up to encourage me on my first 13.1, and thus, running this distance is not really anything big for them. A few minutes later, I saw a flash of red running towards us sticking his hand out for a high-five. This dude was fast. It looked as though this guy was actually sprinting, and doing so with a smile.
We were running most of the race on a trail along the Portage canal which made for beautiful scenery. When we hit mid-point, we were in Chassell, the town I live in. We busted a U-turn and headed back to Houghton. After the mid-way point, conversation slowed down. Lilia was still in front of me, not just pacing me, but also showing me how cool it looks to run in flawless form. It was inspiring, but I was beginning to feel a little tired — more tired than I did on my practice runs. Before the race started, I’d taken some ibuprofen so my right knee wouldn’t act up. Two weeks ago, it’d given me some problems and I had to cut my two-hour run short. But I’d done very little running since then to prevent injury and was feeling the effects of two weeks of minimal training.
And then it started getting dark. Trails in the dark made the race interesting. At one point, it was so dark that I could barely see Lilia in front of me. But still there was no talking. I was trying to tell myself that if I was working for it, I was working too hard. I’d slow down a little and try to take my time and enjoy the run. However, as it got darker, it was to the point that I thought Lilia was running toward me while at the same time getting farther away — a weird optical illiusion. With about three miles to go, we decided to get off the super dark trail and run on the main highway. It was still dark.
I knew that the last 1.5 miles was a steady up-hill. We could see some lights every now and then, but in between it was dark. And then I got my inspiration again. I imagined myself running at the end of an Ironman. I pretended in my mind to have finished a swim and a bike ride and to be following the leader in first place. I think of my friend Chris Lundquist who ran 10 miles without even building up to it and rescued me when my knee gave out. I’m wearing the visor Dave gave to me that pretty much forced me to train for a 70.3. I get another burst of energy. I looked at my watch. It said I had two miles to go. I tried to catch Lilia to run by her side. She sped up to keep the same distance she’d kept up all along.
We turn up the steep hill for a half mile incline. I’m running so slow that a speed-walker can pass me up. We turn right for the last mile and we start up the conversation again. Cars are passing by us. I’m sure they’re wondering why in the world we’re running in the dark. They don’t know we’re running the Northwoods Endurance inaugural half-marathon. A truck coming towards us slows down, passes us, and turns around. They’re our two coaches: Rick and Chris. They yell out a few cheers of encouragement. A few hundred yards ahead, we see another car that has it’s lights on but is not moving. That must be Agustin. It is.
Lilia looks back at me and asks, “Do you wanna finish sprinting it?” I tell her that I thought I was already sprinting. She doesn’t catch my joke, and encourages me a little. I make a break for it. She let’s me catch up a little and we go at it.
We finish.
Exactly 13.18 miles of running. Something I’ve never done before in my life! My coach gives me a hug and says “You did it, man!” I think, he must be proud — of himself. It’s only because of his coaching that I’ve been able to do this. I’m thinking he must feel like one of those teachers that has a horrible student that somehow still manages to graduate on the genius of the teacher alone. Agustin hands us a waterbottle with the best tasting Gatorade I’ve ever had. They hook us up with the best edible medals ever — a chocolate donut hanging on cherry flavored licorice. Then Rick hands me a silver dollar chocolate or gum (haven’t opened it yet). We take pictures. Agustin and Lilia’s little girl has endured as much as anyone running the race, and we all know we’ve kept her up past her bedtime. We head home.
I’m tired and happy.
I celebrate with my best fans — my beautiful wife and my two older sons who stayed up for me.
After the race with Manu and Micah.
I don’t know if they’re more happy that Daddy’s home, that they got to stay up late, or that they’re eating junk food. This won’t happen again… unless I finish a full iron!
Micah excited to wear Daddy’s visor — he took it off my head.
Manu joins me at the end of one of my brick workouts. Nice form, Manu!
