Helvatia Half Marathon

I meant to post this the same day as my marathon, but here I am. Blogging seems to be that friend that I hang out with a ton at a time and then get going with other life stuff and we pick up where we left off...whenever it is we pick up. So, my feeble attempt to "journal" like this and let you inside my head and world a little is something I keep wanting to and trying to attend to.

So I trained and trained and got myself ready for my second half marathon. Steve and I were ready. We left early with Jerry and headed to Hillsboro. We stretched, took some pics and lined up. Jeanne-Ann and some of her girlfriends were doing the 10K and drove up separately. I am so proud of my best friend! She is amazing.

We started off in the mass of people and got on our way. We started really fast. The first mile was done in 7 minutes and 15 seconds. We slowed a little bit every mile, but not by a ton. We hit the 2 major hills and I was dying. I literally went back to that place I was when I ran the 800M race in high school. Every time I ever ran that race I thought, "If I can trip in the pack it will look like it was someone else's fault." I never actually did because I love competing too much. I had that thought, what if I tripped. Then I can bail out of this thing. I had run 10 miles the weekend before and felt great! This was different. We ran too fast and had major hills. I had that thought over and over. I also reminded myself that a half marathon is mostly mental.

I pushed my brain past the pain. We hit stride into the last portion of the race. We were on the last part of the downhill section. After that we would be going on flat roads for the rest of the way. Then came that ill-fated moment. At around mile 8 I was running along the edge of the road when I stepped on the edge where there was a 4 inch drop and twisted my ankle. I followed that with a double roll-over and immediately heard a large collective gasp from the 15 or so people that were right around me. Thankfully I fell into grass and not the 8 foot drop into rocks that was just 100 feet back.

Steve asked if I needed help, but I knew I already threw him off so I told him to keep running. I got up and hobbled for about a half mile until I saw a volunteer. She didn't have anyway to contact anyone, so I waited. A police officer on a motorcycle stopped and called in an ambulance. When they finally got there they gave me a cold pack, but I guess I wasn't priority enough to get a ride, so the police officer was kind enough to call in another officer who had a car. Soon enough I was on my way. During all of this some guy stopped and asked if he could quit because his back was hurting (he has chronic back pain) and so the police officer put him in the back where he complained that the seats were uncomfortable and not ideal for tall people. The officer said that if you break the law you deserve an uncomfortable ride.

So I began to ask the officer about his life and he kept sharing more and more. Turns out he was let go from the force 8 years ago in another state and has been volunteering for a number of years at the behest of a friend. He will finish his law degree in October and hopes to get back on the force full time. He had shared so much with me that as we pulled into the stadium I asked if it was OK if I prayed for him. The guy in the back said, "Let me out before he does that!" That made me laugh. The officer said, "I'm not a religious person." I told him it was OK if he was OK with it. He said, "Sure."

I prayed for him and he said, "Do you do this often?" I said, "You mean pray for people?" He said, "Yes." I told him "all the time." He thanked me and let me out. I headed to where the finish line was without crossing it. It was weird. I got my free burger and joined Jeanne-Ann and the kids and Steve and Jerry and their families and some other friends. Drank about 8 Jamba Juices and we headed home. It was quite the event. I am very sad that I didn't get to finish. Next year, but for now I will have to just train for the Hood to Coast race.