Galveston Half Marathon Recap

I'm deep in the trenches of a busy life. Attempting to keep it together as a mom, oversee homework, slap meals together, and get my running or weight training in while keeping the house just respectable enough to keep my husband quiet. I'm also working on promoting an art show that I am chairing (Beaumont Art League Portrait Show on March 8 :D )  which falls on the same night as the Gusher half marathon I am training for. I'm very excited about these upcoming events, but aware of the amount of time I'm requiring these days for sleep. The more I have to do, it seems, the sleepier I become. I'm a big fan of preventative napping :)
I'll try to keep this recap brief, but I wanted to be sure to document the experience while it is still fresh in my mind.
 Like all races, the Galveston marathon and half marathon had a personality of its own. This was my third half marathon, and I was nervous and excited to test my legs in the novel beach environment. I had been training in groups for most of my important runs and my long runs in particular were faster and longer-a fact that boosted my confidence.
Saturday morning my husband and I packed up the kids and made the 2 hr drive to the island for some pseudo vacation time and to ensure we had at least a couple of relaxed meals together. We hit packet pickup, had lunch, and then turned the boys loose on the beach. We watched in quiet amusement while they frolicked like labrador puppies that had been released from a cage. I envied their purely present joy.

It was beautiful out there. I jogged on the packed sand to loosen my legs up from the past week's workouts. I had not tapered for the race. The plan was to train through and keep this like an important long run. I lifted weights on Friday but did nothing Saturday except for the jogging.
After the beach we headed to our hotel where we were informed that all third party bookings were lost due to an error in their computer system. Bottom line: they were fully booked and we were S.O.L. Mark happened to overhear a conversation about a motel on the seawall that had vacancies, so he quickly called and secured us a place to stay for an amount of money he would not disclose to me. We schlepped our sandy selves down the road to America's Best Quality Inn or something or other. Everything was brand new. So brand new that construction dust still covered everything and the T.V.'s were still being installed. The parking garage was mass grave for outdated plaid or floral print couches and bare mattresses. A perfect situation had landed in the motel owner's lap. Desperate tourists wouldn't complain of the almost finished newness. They'd even pay extra for it. The construction workers were really nice though, and I love the smell of new paint even if it is toxic.
After one more trip into town for an always stellar meal at The Mosquito Cafe, we all clambered in for the night and the menfolk were instantly snoring while I fretted over my playlist, my outfit, etc. Somehow I did end up in a solid sleep.
The next morning, my family dropped me off-presumably to go find a comfy spot from which to cheer me on and boost my spirits. As we lined up for the start, I was happy to see familiar faces from my workout class in Bridge City.  We snapped a few pics and hopped around nervously while we got ready to start. I spotted my friend Randy who I planned to stick with. The national anthem was sung, the countdown was made, and we were off. I spent the first couple of minutes weaving in and out of people looking for my running buddy. After I found him, I waved, and settled in next to him. I felt great. I wanted to run fast, but knew that I needed to kick back and enjoy the ride while I could. We cruised through downtown Galveston and then made our way to the seawall. We ran to the end and turned around to run the opposite way back up the island. There was a slight wind coming off of the ocean, and I tucked in behind my friend and let him absorb it for me. This was the honeymoon phase of my run.

mile 5 or 6 

The humidity flew off my lips as I exhaled, but the clouds I had prayed for kept the temperature cool. Old Tool and A Perfect Circle songs came on my ipod and I got to lose myself a little in the rhythm of the run. After we left the seawall, I foolishly thought we would just traipse around downtown and make our way back to the start. But we kept going. And going. And going. We ran straight until we ended up in a sparsely populated area of beach land. I lost my running buddy at a water stop and worried that I was falling off pace. Luckily, the 330 marathon pace group was right behind then in front of me. It was a large group so I latched on. The heat of such a large group of bodies was radiating off of them. It was like running in a warm, wet,  human scented cloud. I gagged inside of it and I was super embarrassed so I ran off to the side or the behind them for the rest of the race.
Then, as I was really having to come to terms with the fact that I could feel fatigue begin, the blister on the bottom of my foot popped. My foot was squishing around inside of my shoe and I tried to tell myself it was just sweat. A few meters later I had to decide that the cutting sensation on my foot was one I must embrace. I longed for the feeling of being able to run tired, but with feet free of pain. I knew that feeling. This blister shit was for the birds.
Mile 7-9 sucked. Not a desperate suck, just a long, slow, moderate kind of suck. I guess this is what trying to run faster in a half feels like. I listened to my music, pretended the people I was running with were my friends and cared about me. I was feeling sorry for myself. This entire time, I knew at some point I would see my family. My kids would jump for joy and cheer for me. Probably with big signs they snuck behind my back to make. I would be re-invigorated. I would get my third wind.
Nope. Those brats never popped up along the scenery. I began to tell myself I was so focused, I missed them. Finally the mile 10 flag came into view. That was the boost I needed. I could drag myself through any 5k. The course brought us back around into familiar civilization and I felt better just being out of the desolate beach scene. The mile 13 flag finally came into view. I could see the finish, but it was like tunnel vision. It looked so far away. I saw the pacer trade places with a new pacer and I envied him so much even though my salvation was a mere 200 meters away. I just wanted to rest my legs. Then I saw the crowd and told myself, ' this is it! My family is definitely here! I sprinted as much as I could to pass the girl in front of me and to keep the clock from inching forward as it said 1:44 something something...I was hoping for 1:45 or 46 so I was not about to waste my bloody foot on the last 200. My face twisted into a mask of pain I could do nothing about even though I was painfully aware of the cameras, I plowed through both of those timing mats and fell into a pile immediately after.

Crouching, gasping, I waited for my boys to come collect me and carry me off on their shoulders. Nothing. A kind volunteer asked if I wanted water. I nodded and she quickly returned with a bottle. After I gulped much of it down I wandered into the crowd and chatted with comrades. Finally, I was forced to call my husband. They were on the way :/ This was my first time to really have to focus in a race that long while knowingly shredding my foot, so as the elation wears off, some bitterness is definitely beginning to poke through. I was pissed that they missed the whole thing, but proud of myself for pulling it off.
My icing on the cake was that I placed in my age group! 2nd! And I was the ninth female finisher. I felt that much closer to being a big girl runner placing in a distance above 5k (although, the winner in an amazing time of 1:30, was a 13 year old badass-whose sister, 11, also beat me) .
I can race 3 miles, and it's probably the distance I'm most suited for. But learning how to be competitive in 13.1 is a slow process. I'm taking it one chunk at a time. And each morsel is so satisfying. I don't like running long in particular, but I love to run. The sense of accomplishment you get from a finish line that much further away is undeniably heartier.
Instead of waiting in line to check out a printed piece of paper for the results, the organizers of this race offer an additional way to instantly check your stats. You upload a free app on your phone and scan the barcode on your bib. This result screen pops up. The future can be cool sometimes.

We hung around and waited for the awards. I got a bad ass plaque that I did not immediately hang up in my room ;) . Then we ate lunch at the rainforest cafe and the children flipped out and largely ignored me while I sucked down a giant, ridiculously sweet and expensive mojito.

This race was well organized and very well staffed. Some aid stations even had groups of people offering cold, wet paper towels for our heads. The course was beautiful, but I'd appreciate it a lot more if I had an optional golf cart, some beer, and bbq. I wish I had been more mentally prepared for the lonely stretch of no man's beach. Next year I'll be ready for it. Knowing the course is always a bonus in a race.
The post race scene was awesome. Everyone was friendly, the food was great, there was even an adorable dolphin was walking around...I will definitely return. Plus, I adore Galveston. The island has a palpable vibe of happiness that I never get tired of soaking up.

Unabashed giddiness

My friends from Orange County Fitness, my running catalyst <3