WEEE! I spent a good hour today at brightroom.com looking up all the finish-line photos of races past. They still had the very first half marathon I ran back in 2007 all the way up to the halfer this past May.
It’s helpful when strolling down memory lane to have a drink in your hand, thus I am currently slugging back a glass of Mikkeller barley wine style ale in a cute little tasting glass.
Here we go.
I wore a cotton t-shirt (loling @ how inexperienced I was– wearing COTTON for a 13.1 mile run). I had to lose the shirt when we hit the track midway through the race, having dumped a cup of water down my back that added about five pounds of weight onto me.
You can’t really tell in the photo, but I was pretty damn dehydrated. I was trying to be “tough” (read: stupid) by not stopping at the water stations. Also note the high beams; something that plagues me in nearly every race. I finished in 2:29, having waited in line to pee at the porto-johns outside the Speedway.
I almost didn’t put this one in — it’s probably the worst photograph of me ever taken. But I figured what the hell, everybody sweats right? On the bright side: I look rad without makeup and I’ll probably never be that tan again.
This was probably my toughest race. I was wearing shoes that were a size too small and this was my first course with hills. I had to stop and stretch a few times. 2:36.
I finally discovered the wonderful world of technical fabrics. Training went well this time around but I was still fighting with my body and had not mastered the art of listening to what its telling me and pacing myself. I finish in around 2:24, really only subtracting the time it took me to pee in the previous year’s 500 Fest. I continue the tradition of rocking the Pained Runner Look.
I get my revenge on the Indy Half; the price I pay is a severe case of chafe in a brand-new pair of running shorts. This one reminds me of how desperately I was trying to look cool so I can actually have a decent finish line photo in my album of spectacularly BAD finish line photos. Again, somewhere in the neighborhood of 2:30 — but I shave six minutes off of last year’s catastrophic failure, so I’m happy.
P.S. Am I a supinator or WHAT? I think that’s going to be my super hero name from now on.
After nearly a year-long hiatus due to a sprained ankle, my comeback run is a nice, flat fast course in downtown Indy. I’m feeling rather self-conscious about my weight gain, thus the cropped pants instead of my usual running shorts. I’ve given up on trying to look cool and I’m just trying to finish. I still apparently haven’t learned that gray shirts accentuate sweat. You know how long it took me to finish.
Revisiting my old friend, the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. I have a look on my face that says, “I’m not too impressed with you either, Speedway,” but in actuality, I cannot believe how good I feel midway through the race, especially since the first 5k was pure agony and I’m trying to make up for lost time. But I’ll be damned if I don’t feel spectacular. See how I’m even getting checked out by that guy behind me? He’s picking up on my aura of unbridled enthusiasm. I’m remembering why I love to run. I PR in 2:21.