Grete's Great Gallop

Funny how situations change with time even if you don't acknowledge the change while it is happening. Now that a lot of my friends are having babies, I notice this a lot. Wait, I'll think to myself, Jenny's daughter is starting kindergarten? Isn't Jenny still pregnant? The passage of time is not a new concept, but if you distract yourself from the changes it brings, you can be in for some pretty big surprises.

Grete Waitz, 1970s

I had a lot of time to ponder this, and other slightly less philosophical notions (which involved swearing) on Saturday morning when I ran Grete's Great Gallop (named for legendary marathoner Grete Waitz), a half-marathon around Central Park. Sure, I was sick and on antibiotics that made me nauseated, and I just had four fillings done (one of which was too big, meaning that I couldn't chew) and I hadn't really been training, and I hadn't run a half-marathon this year...but I ran six last year! And a full one this year! (Five months ago.) I was sure I'd be fine.

Because Grete was Norwegian, the theme of the race was Norway. I saw a few viking helmets, and an unbelievably muscular black guy wearing nothing but skin-tight spandex pants and an enormous, very realistic ram's head, swinging from a street light to cheer for us near the starting line.

By mile 3, things were looking grim. I was pretty tired already. The course was two loops around Central Park, which meant that twice I ran by the sidewalk that leads to my apartment. It took an effort I cannot adequately describe to stay on the course. There was no doubt in my mind that I was going to finish; the real question was how unpleasant the experience would be. I hoped to finish in about two hours - a far cry from my PR of 1:42, but I could hardly expect to get close to that. I stopped every few miles for water and even took a bathroom break!

The first to lap me.

Somewhere around 4.5 miles, I heard a whistle behind me, and minutes later, race officials on bikes whizzed by, yelling that the lead runner was approaching and warning us to stay to the right. I couldn't believe I was getting lapped that early in the race, but I had plenty of time to get used to the idea, because by the time I passed the finish line and headed around the bend to begin my second six-mile loop, 48 other people had followed the winner's lead. Oh well, at least counting them gave me something to think about other than how tired I was.

In the past, miles 10 to 12 have been the hardest for me, but this time the last mile was the worst. After deciding I was exhausted around mile 3, I rallied and actually felt ok until the very end. But then I got some extra motivation about 1/4 of a mile before the finish line when I saw Ed on the sidelines cheering for me. I had forbidden him to come to watch a race I was sure was going to be a disaster, but he cheerfully ignored my dire warnings and came anyway, and I was really glad he was there. My final time was 2:02, which was fine by me; I was just glad the damn thing was over.

I am right on track to get in 9 races before 2012, which will guarantee my entry into the 2012 New York Marathon next fall; two short ones in November and one slightly longer one (15K) in December. I trained for my last marathon while I was unemployed and had all the time in the world, so getting in the long runs I'll need to prepare for this one is going to be a challenge. It's one I'm looking forward to, though. This is one of the biggest, marathons in the world, and I its course will take me through all five boroughs of the city I have come to love. I want to do it well, and I want to enjoy it. And Saturday served as a pretty pointed reminder of how unpleasant it can be to run a race one is not prepared for.