Making sense of my Year of Halfs

I've been thinking about how to sum up the year, trying to figure out what running a half-marathon a month for the whole year has meant, or accomplished... or not.

In fact, this thinking started the night before the last half in Kiawah SC  (post for that race is here) when my friend and hostess Robin asked me straight up "So... what did you get out of it?"

What did I get out of it?

Other than a shit-load of medals

When the idea for this quest came to me, I'd just run my first semi-serious 5k in ages.

Before that race, I'd barely been able to run a mile. For me, as a formerly pretty fast dude, and still a guy who identifies as being a "runner", that was pretty humiliating.

So, I set a goal (the 5K), set a training schedule, and knocked it out. And if felt fantastic.

I wanted to keep things rollin', so I needed another goal... that's when I came up with a half a month, with a stretch goal of running them all in under 2 hours.

In my head, it was challenging, a little scary even, but also a sure-fire way to go from semi-fit to rockin' fit. I've always loved the half-marathon distance, there are loads of them, I could travel a bit, and I'd end the year with a ton of hardware, feeling awesome, and maybe some abs.

And that was pretty much how it went down... for a while.

I kept to my 3 runs a week, ramped up my long runs, stretched a lot. The January half went well (even though I missed my time goal, but only because I started behind a jillion people... I was cruising really well after the first 4 miles). February was faster, and March even faster.

Gasparilla: One of my fav pix from the year

even though it looks like a palm tree

is growing out of my head.

Things were going well... I was getting more comfortable with the distance, my training was steady, I was dropping weight, end even the Indiana winter weather wasn't horrible.

April's half was on my home course with perfect conditions, and looking back, my best race... I still wasn't as fast as I wanted to be, but I felt strong, confident, and like I could race the race a little. After that one, I felt as though I'd really accomplished something.

And then... I got complacent. Two-hour halfs were coming easy. Too easy. I wasn't scared of failing any more.

Then, I got lazy. My training got inconsistent. My races got worse. For the May race I showed up unprepared, June was a disaster because I hadn't run a step in the heat, July was a slow slog.

I justified my poor training with "Hey, I'm running a half a month! I can't train consistently. Race a half... a week to recover... a week to get back in the groove... week to train... week of taper... race again."

But that was kinda bullshit. I wasn't racing those halfs. They were long training runs. There was absolutely no reason to not train between races.

The truth is, I'd lost sight of the real goal... to feel good, fit, and fast again. The 12 halfs were supposed to be my path to that. That was the real goal.

August, a trail half, was challenging in new ways, and it scared me enough to train for it, but that was the last one, really... September I had heat as an excuse again... October I ran ok.

We even got to hang with Purdue Pete at October's half.

November was supposed to be my "A" race, the one I'd targeted for my best performance. It was a bit of a fluke, but I did run pretty well... no idea why... perfect conditions helped I'm sure, and the autumn boost after summer heat and humidity. It certainly wasn't from quality training.

And December was a slog... not only because of the stomach distress, but also because I'd barely run a step in a month, hadn't stretched either, and by now had picked back up the weight I'd dropped earlier in the year.

Every half after April was an accomplishment, and I'd celebrate each one, even the shitty ones, but they rang hollow.

Even in those last 2 miles of number twelve, hoping to distract my mind from my roiling gut, I tried to find some emotion, some sense of completion, of accomplishment.

It wasn't there...

I knew that I'd taken a short cut. I'd met the letter of the goal, but not the intent.

In hindsight, after the April race, while I was sitting in Brockway Pub with Jen, feeling that real sense of accomplishment, I should have reset my goal right there... challenged my self to do more, to chart a revised path that would get me to where I truly wanted to be.

Here's why that didn't happen...

When running a half, I divided into 4 parts... the first 4 miles are where I sort myself out, try to get comfortable, and hopefully get past the "What the hell am I doing this for?" freak out. The next part is getting to 8 miles... that's well past half way, "downhill" to the finish, but those miles can be a slog to get through.... I need to keep my wits about me, not do anything stupid. The next part is getting to mile 10... and after 10, it's just a 5 K to go... if things are ok at 10, I know I'll be fine, and I can open things up a bit if I want.

I approached the year of halfs just like a half... and in April, I felt like I had no business starting my kick... I still had a long way to go.

Kinda makes sense... but it's totally wrong.

Races are about planning, conserving, pressing when you can, saving just enough at the beginning so you can finish strong.

A racing season is about cycles... pushing for a while... peaking.. recovering... and repeating those cycles every 3-6 months.

The same fear I feel (and I think most of us feel) in a race when I'm reluctant to go fast, worried I'll end up bonking, had bled into my race cycle thinking. I was too afraid to raise the bar... too worried I'd bonk. I thought I needed to cruise until I got to 10.

But without raising the bar, knowing I could knock out a 2 hour half with no training, there was no challenge. It almost became a game... let's see how little training I can get away with and still finish a half.

So... I find myself with 12 kick-ass medals, 11 shirts (still can't find the Zionsville one), a few dozen horrible race photos.

And some fun memories, like...

running with Yoda as Luke Skywalker through Disneyland for the Star Wars half, and

margarita's, and Dali, and killing time at the beach bar with Jen at Gasparilla in St. Pete, and

that dude who told us "200 meters to go" a good third of a mile from the finish at Sam Costa, and

finishing 3 minutes faster than I'd expected at Carmel, and

finally getting to cross the bridges over the reservoir at Geist, and

my buddy Jay giving me water when I was wilting and Jen taking care of me at Zionsville, and

running over the river on one of those steel drawbridges you can see through at Chicago Rock n Roll, and

the knee deep water crossing and seeing Jen next to the (empty!?!) finishers beer keg at the Viking, and

the overheated guy doing the drunk man walk before mile 8 at Mill Run Half in Columbus, and

running the campus, butt dialing my sister 19 times, and post-race beers at Harry's with Jen at Purdue, and

riding the shoulder of the 2-hour pacer for a few hundred yards, and then accelerating away at Monumental, and

running with Bill and hanging with Jen and Robin and drinking bourbon and wine and beer and eating like fools after Kiawah...

All of those memories are awesome, and that's not lost on me.

And neither is how fortunate I am to be able to run at all, to finish even one half-marathon, let alone twelve.

But I also find myself far short of the fitness, and far above the weight, and not anywhere near the level of "feeling good" that I'd thought those races would steer me to. Not their fault, all mine.

Not sure what my goal will be for next year. I'll still run, maybe target a race a month. And those races won't be, in and of themselves, the goal. (And they sure as fuck won't all be half-marathons.)

Somehow I need to quantify and measure "feeling good"... I guessing there is yoga involved... and free weights. I'm open to suggestions.

Thank you for following this quest and for your comments and good wishes. My readers are the best (and scientifically proven to be good looking with high IQs).

Until next year...

Good running,
Doug

Ratings of the 12 halfs:
Best course: Gasparilla - gorgeous view of the bay for most of the way.
Worst course: Tie:
   Zionsville - the 2-loop half could be a nice one-loop 10K
   Sam Costa - 1000 tight turns, paths with low hanging limbs, curb jumping... uhg
Best medal: Star Wars - looks just like the one's Luke and Han get in New Hope

Worst medal: Zionsville - phoned it in

Best shirt: Kiawah - technical hoodie? Yup!

Worst shirt: Chicago - boring

Best organized: Chicago - huge event, ran like clockwork
Best overall: Gasparilla - it's at the top of the list of ones I'd do again, and not just for the warm weather - well run, great course, great venue.

PS - If you've enjoyed this series, that makes me happy, and please consider sharing it with others. And, I'd love to hear your thoughts, comments, whatever, whenever. If you want to keep tabs, you can follow me on twitter (@DougRun365) or subscribe to get posts via email (I don't get your email address, and wouldn't bother you even if I did), or just bookmark the site.

December Half: Kiawah Island Half, Kiawah Island SC

If you’re planning a trip to Charleston SC, you’ll wanna drop me a note.

I go there a lot.

I know lots of great places to eat and drink and see, but mostly, you’ll want to know what to pack.

For some reason, the travel gods have conspired with the weather gods to ensure that it’s unseasonably cold, and usually rainy, whenever I visit Chucktown.

As you'd guess, this trip was no exception.

For the race, the Kiawah Half on Kiawah Island not far from Charleston, and last in my quest for a half every month this year, it was nearly ideal...if you were running. 41, overcast. It was windy too but we were protected from the wind by trees and huge houses.

For a December mini-vacation in one of the great cities of the world, it was decidedly not ideal.

Don’t get me wrong, we had a TON of fun. Our hosts, our dear friends Bill and Robin, shuttled is around the city for food and drinks and art and more drinks. It just wasn’t in shorts and sunscreen. Winter coats and umbrellas were the dress for those days.

As for the actual race, I was surprised at how big it was. Lots of people, most of them in line with us to get to the field where you had the option of parking your car or getting it stuck in the sloppy mud. We chose to park, but it looked like people were pretty evenly split.

"Welcome to Kiawah... you're gonna sit here a while."

Time was ticking down to the start time and I didn’t have my number yet. We boarded a nice coach bus for the final leg to the starting line so I could get my packet. But as a twist, the coach inexplicably dropped us about a half-mile from the start.

I kept my shit together for a bit, but with just 20 min before the gun, and not knowing where the hell I was supposed to go, I broke into a panic jog.

I do no the building, just has everyone was leaving it for the corrals. Does no my best impression of a trout in spawn, I surprised, pissed off, and maneuvered around a few hundred people before finding the tables and getting my number and shirt.

After the small miracle of them running smack into Jen and Robin, I dumped my gear with them, and they pointed me toward Bill, who was already in the corral, calm and a cucumber. Cool...cool as a cucumber. But also calm. Which was good because I needed a calming influence to help me dial down my freak out.

Start blow-up thingy

But, I’d made it, with a good 2 minutes to spare. All I had to do was cruise through 13.1 miles one more time. No problem.

The gun goes off, we cross the starting line, and uh-oh...we have a problem.

Within maybe 100 strides, I could feel my stomach. That digestive miracle that I usually don't feel, don’t even think about, especially on a run, and never in a race, was making a statement. It was not happy.

It was not happy at all.

It felt as though someone had slipped a small cannon ball, or perhaps a car jack, into there. And running was helping.

Even now I’m not sure what was wrong. Was it the protein bar (which I’ve eaten before several races with no problem)? The OJ? The 90 minutes in the car? The stress of the close call getting my number? Maybe it was the potpourri of all of that.

This is me not feeling well at all

It really didn’t matter. It just was. But surely it’ll pass...right? Right?

Nope. It was settled in for the ride.

Thankfully, for the first time all year, I had a running buddy. Bill was like a machine, mile after mile...actually kilometer after kilometer. Bill likes to track is progress in Ks to get more regular feedback. Which is kinda brilliant.

Bill, and me pretending all's well

I told Bill I wasn’t feeling well, and I just camped on his shoulder. I apologized for not being my usually chatty running partner...all my attention was focused squarely on getting to the finish before whatever was in me decided to rocket out, front door, back door, or new door Alien style.

My last half of the quest wasn’t the victory lap I’d hoped. It was a serious effort. My time doesn’t make it look like it was, but it really was a difficult 2 hours and 5 minutes.

Sometimes you have to remind

the crowd to cheer for you

And without Bill, it might have been 2:15.

In case I haven’t made it clear, I felt terrible. Had I not had Bill’s steady pace to copy, and his shoulder to ride when I felt especially bad, I’d have walked...a lot.

Jen and Robin made a point of finding us at a few points along the course, which serves as a momentary boost to my mood, and a micro-boost to my pace (a guy always speeds up when his girlfriend is watching).

The after race party looked great... beer, a big buffet, live music. I forced myself to drink part of a celebratory beer, but soon I was chilled to the bone. My lips were turning blue like a 7 yr old who really should get out of the pool for a bit.

So we got back to the car, did not get stuck in the mud, and soon I was defrosting in the shower.

An hour or so after that, my tummy returned to normal. We went out for a bite. And a drink. And another drink. And then back to the warmth and coziness of Chateau Howard.

I registered for this race a year earlier. Thanks to my Charleston friend, bad ass sailor, and unfairly fast runner Craig. He told me how fun and flat and fast it was. And I dreamed of a victory lap and victory celebration on a beautiful island, in shorts, ignoring the risk of sunburn.

Oh plans...you fickle fuckers, you.

Craig's in the middle, looking like he finish
about 35 minutes before we did.

Still, though the weather wasn’t great, and my race was soured by my stomach, I can’t think of a better group of people I’d rather stand around shivering with and toasting completing 12 half marathons in 12 months.

Thanks go out to Craig for convincing me to run Kiawah, and for the tip that got me in for $40. I've already registered for 2018, and I've been assured that it's never cold on Kiawah race weekend... at least not 2 years in a row.

Special thanks to Bill and Robin for the hospitality, food, drink, laughs, drinks, friendship, more drinks, and introducing us to the Albert Finney musical version of A Christmas Carol.

Bloody Mary and/or Mimosa bar

at Paige's

And special-est thanks to Jen for making the trip, and putting up the cold windy rain, and finding me before the start, and looking after me at the finish, and generally being awesome.

And thanks also to Charleston, and the sun, for taking mercy on us before we left, and giving us one gorgeous afternoon.

We had Windjammer to ourselves

Sand. Sun. Ocean.

So...that’s 12. I’ll post a summary, look back, what-the-hell-should-I-make-of-this-year-of-halfs entry before the end of the year.

Until then...

Good running,
Doug

Hooded tech shirt... pretty bad ass

If you'd like to catch up on the year in halfs so far, here are links:

1. Jan: runDisney StarWars half at Disneyland
2. Feb: Gasparilla Half in Tampa FL
3. Mar: Sam Costa Half in Carmel IN
4. Apr: Carmel Half in Carmel IN
5. May: Geist Half in Fishers IN
6. Jun: Zionsville Half in Zionsville, IN
7. Jul: Rock 'n' Roll in Chicago, IL
8. Aug: Viking Dash Trail Half in Muncie, IN
9. Sep: Mill Race Half in Columbus, IN
10. Oct: Purdue Boilermaker Half in West Lafayette, IN
11. Nov: Monumental Half in Indianapolis, IN