Destination San Diego Half Marathon

Yesterday I ran a half marathon. I am still having a little trouble digesting this fact because it was such a non-event, in comparison to the two other times I have ever run that distance.  I've run the Philadelphia Half Marathon in 2009 and in 2010 and so my past experiences running a full 13.1 miles have been comprised of big crowds, crisp temperatures, commemorative shirts, thousands of other runners, and adrenaline.  Sweet, sweet adrenaline.  And then at the end, you get a medal! And a banana!  And other such food that your recovering body craves! You take pictures and revel in that post-race glow and marvel that your legs have stopped moving for the first time in 2+ hours. You get a free massage, for god's sake.

My run yesterday, in comparison, was just a training run.  And in some ways it was a special one because I'm in San Diego visiting a good friend and was able to plot a course that took me through Balboa Park and along the Pacific Ocean and then -- and this was weird -- past the San Diego Airport (a necessary course to get to Harbor Island Drive Park, but a pretty boring stretch).  I got to explore a city by foot, which is one of my favorite ways of seeing a place.  But it was 13.1 miles that were largely alone, especially because this run was on a Monday, when most of the rest of the world is at work.  By the last 3 miles I was running along a touristy section of Harbor Drive.  My legs were burning and feeling the ache as I dodged the tourists and pedicabs.  When I squeezed my fists I could feel the salt build-up, the grittiness upon my skin a sign that my body knew this was serious.  But to the tourists taking up the whole damn promenade (cause let's face it -- it's not fun to admit, but by this point I was silently cursing anyone in my path whom I had to run around and expend any more energy than was necessary to get to the finish -- those inconsiderate bastards!!) I was just another runner out for a nice morning jog.

Really, it doesn't usually matter to me how people consider me when I'm on a run.  Part of what I like about running is clearing my head and using the time to push my body according to my own limits -- it's not about competing with others in any way.  I have been forever scarred by being the slowest runner on my High School track team and now I run against myself and no one else.  But in comparison to the last 3 miles of a big race, my final miles yesterday felt anticlimactic and almost alienating.  When I reached the end, I stopped my Nike+ tracker and Lance Armstrong's voice came on, congratulating me on "my longest run yet!"  (note: this is because it registered as 13.11 for some reason instead of 13.10.  This was not purposeful, believe me.  If I could have run .01 less, it would have happened).   But aside from Lance, there was nothing.  Tourists kept milling about, none of them holding congratulatory signs, none of them even giving me a banana.  I walked up the hill to my friend's apartment, stretched, showered, and ate some crackers with peanut butter.  No medal. No free massage.  I still felt like I accomplished something, but this time my run was not the goal in and of itself.  It was just a step on my way towards running twice that distance.  I should mention that while Lance was talking to me post-run, I had the terrifying thought that "in just over two months you are planning on running double that amount."  DOUBLE.  Later, in the shower, I thought "Yup, you'd still be running now."  Lying on the couch even later I started to have the same thought and quickly pushed it out of my mind.  I know that training for a marathon is part physical but also part mental.  So freaking myself out is not the way to accomplish this goal.   Bad Lauren.  Bad.  Instead, I guess I just need to remember that running 13.1 miles, with or without an official race, is a big deal for me and I should feel great about that.  And that I have a whole 10 weeks left to get to the 26.2.  And it's going to be okay.  It has to be.  I mean, with Lance on my side, how can I not do this?