The Kiawah Half I'd Rather Forget

At the end of the Kiawah Half last year, there were high fives. There were exclamations of joy. There was pride, sheer exhaustion, a sense of accomplishment, exhilaration, and {happy} tears.

This year?

Frustration. Disappointment. Annoyance. A lot of sweat, a little bit of blood. A need for redemption.

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Leading up to the race, I was pumped. I had put in all of the miles and hills and sprints and long runs necessary to complete a half marathon. I ran when I didn't want to. I ran when it was unbearably, miserably hot outside. I ran when the thunder rumbled in the distance and I ran when it was 20 something degrees outside. I improved on my speed & broke my 5K PR three separate times, most recently a week prior to the half.

I was ready.

Until I saw the weather forecast: mid 60s during race time.

& if there is anything that I know about myself when it comes to running, it's that I run the very best when it's cold out. Like 30 degrees cold. Not 60 - 70 degrees.

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Mile 1

10:27

I knew I was in trouble when I was already drenched in sweat before we rounded Night Heron Park and reached mile marker 1.

Mile 2

10:01

Spent most of this mile trying to get back ahead of the 10:18/mile pace group. That pace group was on track to finish in 2:15... and I wanted to beat my time from last year {2:14:53}, so I needed to get ahead of those runners.

Mile 3

9:57

Got ahead of the pace group!

Mile 4

9:40
Thought process this whole mile? Run on the yellow line in the middle of the road and focus on that and nothing else. Kind of worked and it distracted me from the sunny/hot part of the course.

Mile 5

9:34
Absolutely kicking some booty at this point! The focusing on the yellow line on the road was working wonders.

Mile 6

9:51
Uh oh, back in the sunshine. Slowing it down in the heat.

Mile 7

9:32

... and y'all, this is where things broke down. I don't ever drink water when I run. Mostly because it's impossible to drink without stopping to walk but also because the feeling of water sloshing around while running is fairly nauseating.

But... I drank some water. Chugged it, actually. Then proceeded to run. Any guesses at what immediately came back up and out?

{still trying to figure out how this was my fastest mile?}

Mile 8

10:21

Commence the walking.

New goal: run to the next water station at mile 8, get some water, and walk a minute. Lies. The water station was somewhat closer to mile 8.5 and I bailed at mile 8 to do a little walking to try and cool down.

Mile 9

10:52

More water, more walking. I wasn't making the chug water & run mistake again.

Mile 10

10:47

Things really broke down at mile 10. There's something about those last three miles that gets me every single time. They're always longer than I think they are. I was entirely too hot at this point. But, on the bright side, the Kiawah Marathon people prepared well for the hotter than anticipated weather and had set up lots of precautions. One of them was the course volunteer on the golf cart who kept suggesting that I call it a day & hop on her cart for a ride back to the start line.

Not going to lie, I was a little bit tempted to take her up on her offer.

Mile 11

11:49

Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Walk. Run. Walk. Run. Ugh.

Mile 12

11:53

Pit stop! Enjoy the "I'm super miserable, give me water" photos somewhere between mile 11 & 12.

Bye!

Mile 13.1

13:07ish

Can't even make it out of the finish line chute to get my medal and water. Leaned up against the barrier and couldn't move.

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Official Results
Chip Time - 2:19:20
Pace - 10:33/mile
Overall Finish - 1,606/2,742
Age Group - 151/259

Last year I was so excited and thrilled and elated at the finish line. This year? Complete opposite.



But now it's time to learn how to let go of a bad race & time to remember why I run in the first place. Those are two super hard things to do when you were 100% expecting to set a PR and failed miserably at doing so.

Step One: find that friend that got you involved in running in the first place. Try not to tell her how much you hate running in that moment.



Step Two: put on favorite "Run for You" shirt and your hard-earned, well-deserved finisher's medal. Smile and give thumbs up because even though it sucked, you survived.



Step Three: get into the freezing cold Atlantic ocean.



Step Four: ... sign up for the 2016 Kiawah Half Marathon...and a 5K, a 10K, and a 15K this winter while it's still {hopefully} super cold out. Completely scratch the idea of doing a half in Columbia in May and consider signing up to volunteer instead.