I finished my first half-marathon today. And it will probably be my last. I don't know. Maybe I'll get the crazy idea to try it again sometime when my body stops aching.
Rewind. On Friday, a friend of mine asked me if I was competing in the half-marathon through our little city, the Tampere Puolimaraton. 21km, no training whatsoever, no mental preparation whatsoever, no idea if I was even able to run 21km (seeing as I've never done this before): of course I said yes and signed up for it after a few more hours of re-arranging my Sunday shift at work.
Then I started thinking about it and got a little scared. Then a friend told me that it's only 21km, nothing to worry about. Wait, what? The longest distance I've ever gone was about 12km, and that was with a few walking breaks, you see? And yeah, GRIT did a lot to improve my fitness and my VO2max, but I wasn't quite sure what my body would say to a 21km run. So I decided for myself that I could always walk if running started to get impossible, and I assembled an incredible playlist for the whole thing.
Yesterday I got my start number (1304) and all instructions needed and today, with shaking fingers, I pinned the start number to my chest, placed the tracking chip in my shoe and tied my shoes. I met a few friends at the starting point, but I was calm. I was surprisingly calm. Then the whole thing started and I was off to a rather good start. That's what I thought. You never know, because there's just so many people and you never know if the people you're overtaking are actually far behind. But well, I just did my thing (Luke Bryan's "Doing my Thing" was in my playlist) and ran. It felt really good after I had got going, especially kilometers 3-8 were just great. Then my friend, the one that got me into the whole darn thing, showed up beside me. We ran side by side for about one kilometer when he mentioned "Whoa, we haven't even made half the distance.". I told him to just go for it and run and tried to keep him in sight. Which did work out for about 3km, then I lost him from view. Anyway, I was in this for myself, not to prove a point or impress a friend (if you need to impress your friends, you should probably get new friends, that just as an aside), so again I listened to Luke Bryan singing that rain was a good thing and Papa Roach telling me to not keep quiet. Lovex spurred me on, telling me that I should push my mind aside and let my body decide and to get it on. Finnish rapper Cheek sang that there's no shortcut to happiness (oh, how fitting) and the Sick Puppies said that one of us was going down. Concentrating on the music, my body did the dirty work and just kept going. My thighs started to ache like hell on km 15, on km 18 my hips started to tighten up painfully and on km 19 my butt decided to cramp. But it was already km 19. And even though I wanted nothing more than just stop and walk (or actually lie down and die), I knew it was only 2 km to go. I could do this. 2 km and 15 minutes unil two hours were up.
I kept on running. I asked my body, I pleaded, to make it to the finish line and my body said "okay, let's do this". For real, it sounds strange, but at one point, I almost started to cry because I was so grateful for the things my body was able and willing to do for me, even though it was hurting and feeling like it was being tortured. km 20 went in a blur, but then I saw the bridge that led to the finish line and I gave it the last of my energy reserves and I crossed the finish line at 1h53min brutto, 1h51min netto. Not only has this been my first half-marathon, no, I also made it in less than 2 hours (without even training for it). My friend ran 1:47br and 1:45 net. Which is about 0.5km/h faster than me.
Anyway, after crossing the finish line, it was hard to even walk straight, oh, let's be honest, it was hard to walk - Full Stop. My thighs were cramping, my butt was cramping, my calves were burning and my feet hurt. Fortunately enough, I have no blisters at all and no chaffing and no nothing. My muscles are aching, but that's it. Oh, and my head was swimming and I was seeing a few stars. I had a banana, a cuppa coffee and loads of water. And I swore, I'd never - ever - do this again.
But right now, as I am sitting here and thinking the whole thing through... how about trying again next year? Trying to beat 1:45? No. It would be...but why not? :D
I'm torn. It was a great experience. A painful, but great experience. It was fun. It hurt like hell and it really cost me some self control not to give up. Let's see, what happens. Go with what feels right.
But one thing I can tell you: I am physically unable to run a marathon. I'm not an endurance athlete, I'm better at short distances. And my body would not have been able to take more. Or maybe it would have been, but this is the moment where my soul tightly hugs my body and tells everybody else to go away and leave the poor thing alone*. Which is why I will get some sleep now. Happy as a clam and tired as hell. Good night.
*
(please humor me; today I really felt like my body and mind are two entirely different entities, bound together, but not the same. strange feeling)
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