2010 Illinois Half Marathon: Self-loathing and pity.

I am utterly disappointed with my performance today. I am going to indulge these feelings of self-pity so that they get out of my system.

(Radish legs!)

For one reason or another, my body did not cooperate today. I started out running somewhat conservatively, given my goal pace of 9:05 min/mile. My first three mile splits made it look like I was on track to run a decent race:

• 9:42
• 9:23
• 9:16

Lena and I started out together, and around Mile 2 we said good-bye. I took off, hoping to PR with a sub-2:00 half. (This would have been an improvement of three minutes and eight seconds from last year.)

However, around Mile 2.5, I started feeling poorly. My hamstrings felt tired, most likely from working at the Expo for six and a half hours yesterday. My split times slowed way down, and with the way I felt, I knew that speeding up PLUS making up for the "conservative" first miles would be impossible. I felt labored, and it was a struggle to wrap my head around running the rest of the race.

I saw Lena run past and told her that I felt like bad. I considered just finding a medical tent and being a DNF ("Did not finish"). It didn't seem worth it to continue running so many more miserable, disappointing miles. All of my training was for nothing.

Somehow, I got through the rest of the race. I don't have anything inspiring to tell you. Lena and I were basically each other's support system through the race. By Mile 11, we adopted a "run four minutes, walk one minute" strategy. This was pretty effective at getting us to the finish line, but it didn't help my ego at all. All I wanted to do was finish because I knew that I wasn't going to PR and I already felt like junk.

I crossed the finish line with an unofficial time of 2:15:29. That's pretty far off my goal time of sub-2:00.

(This is just the finish.)

After Lena and I crossed the finish line hand-in-hand, we were able to spot the boyfriend pretty quickly. Knowing that I had planned for a sub-2:00 marathon, he was worried that he had missed me in the crowds. Though he had planned for a slow, unpleasant race, he PR-d by 30 seconds. I was really happy for him, but hearing about his success made my performance seem even worse. I started to cry on the bleachers, feeling like a failure for not being able to hold it together and push through the discomfort.

All in all, I am extremely frustrated with my race. I know that races almost never go as planned, but I am sad that my body didn't cooperate today. I trained so hard, and everything just fell apart well before the halfway point.

Instead of feeling strong and triumphant, I feel like a chubby failure. I've gained several pounds this year, and I cannot get them to come off. I am unhappy with my body (minus my radish legs) in my running clothes, and I hate it. It's bad enough to be dissatisfied with the way your body performs, let alone looks.

Alright, enough negativity. I will re-hash only the positives:

• Lena and I set a PFR (Personal Friendship Record) today. And she stayed with me the whole race, helping me through the hard spots.
• The boyfriend ran a PR.
• The weather was good for the spectators (like Dan and Brian, whom I didn't see) to come out and cheer.
• Even if I had a bad race, it means nothing in the scheme of things. Running races is still a privilege. I am healthy and wealthy (both financially and time-wise) enough to PAY to run. (I often think that runners forget this.)
  
• I trained hard and (I think) made myself faster in the process. My speed probably isn't gone.
  

Today just wasn't my day.

At least I have a great support team, including Lena, who is standing on the next bleacher down because she is tall.