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SRRC Race Reports
National Half Marathon, Washington, DC—Sat., March 24, 2007
by
Alison Gittelman
The short version:
I much prefer half-marathons to full marathons. If I go out too fast (which I almost always do) I’ve found I can hang on for 13.1 miles. Hanging on for 26.2 is a different story.
The long version:
I’m sitting in traffic somewhere between 6th Street SE and RFK Stadium. There’s a string of cars not just in front of me but in every other direction, and we’re all trying to get to the same place for the 7:00am race start. The clock tells me we’re edging closer to 6:30, and I’m starting to get nervous. Those familiar with my racing strategy know I like to arrive at the race location a good hour before the start so I can stand around nervously, re-tie my shoes, and get acquainted with the porta-potties. But here I am, almost 30 minutes to race start, sitting in the car. I make the most of my time sitting at endless red lights (that turn green long enough for two cars to go through) by applying an obnoxious amount of body glide to the ankle on which I’m placing my home imprisonment-style timing chip bracelet. I actually manage to get the bracelet on while driving, too. Note to self: if running doesn’t work out for me, I could always join the circus as one of those bendy people who can fold themselves up into an itty-bitty box.
Around 6:30 I pull into the parking lot, jump out of my car, and find that I’m just a few steps from the race staging area. Now this is looking better! In fact, both the start and finish are right next to the parking lot. Ten minutes before race start, I jog to the car to retrieve a pair of gloves I’ve decided to wear since it’s raining a bit, and I don’t want cold hands. There aren’t many half-marathons (let alone marathons!) where you can nip back to your car for stuff just before the gun goes off.
The race starting area is very informal: no corrals, no pace markers that I can see (although I am on the short side so maybe I just missed them); we’re all just hanging out in the road. I chat to some fellow members of my other club, Reston Runners, all of whom are running the full marathon so I feel like a bit of a slacker, but then the gun goes off, and I leave them in the dust (well, puddles – of oil, it appears) because I’m just running a half-marathon, so I can scamper off and not have to worry about hitting the wall at mile 20 because (yippee) I’ll probably be in the shower at that point.
There’s the usual elbowing in the first mile as we head towards Capitol Hill, but this is a small field (approx 5,000) and so it thins out very quickly. My first mile is an 8:08, which surprises me because I thought I was running much slower than that, but that’s fine because my plan is to run 8:10s for the first 6 and then switch to 7:50s for the rest of the race. However, mile 2 has a big downhill and the field stretches out even more so I find myself running a little too fast and go through that mile in 7:40. I remind myself of my marathon disaster when I went out too fast and slow myself to a 7:50 for mile 3. While its way off the planned pace, I feel really good and decide that I can hang with this pace. One of the interesting things about starting a half-marathon and a marathon together is that you realize the marathoners you’re running alongside are pretty darn fast, if they’re keeping this pace for twice the distance you are. And then of course I feel like a slacker, so I speed up a bit to remove the guilt and remind myself—again—that I need to stay on pace and can always pick it up at the end.
In terms of spectators, this certainly isn’t MCM, but the small crowds are loud and very encouraging, and it’s fun to see people hanging out of their front doors and sitting on their steps watching everyone go by. Some of them definitely appear to have been asleep just minutes before our racket woke them up.
After going around the monuments and down Constitution Ave for what seems like an eternity (didn’t we run past that museum/monument/memorial already?), we head into SW and down along the waterfront, which is fun. Then we run into SE and past the Navy Yard, which is surrounded by a boatload of new development. At mile 10 we say goodbye to the marathoners, who head back towards downtown, while we run north along the eastern side of the Anacostia River. It’s only at this point that I realize why there was an extra bib with “HALF” printed on it in my packet. I couldn’t work out why they wanted me to wear this when the bibs were already color-coded (white: marathon, yellow: half-marathon), so I didn’t bother. Many people are wearing them on their backs, which proves very helpful at the split, because I can see which way to go before I get to the nice man with the sign thanks to those who didn’t question authority!
From this point on we are running a series of rolling hills. And boy do those hills hurt! I try to maintain a steady pace but the terrain makes it hard. I drop to an 8:00 for mile 11 and get so mad at myself that I speed up to a 7:30 for mile 12. At that point I figure I may as well hang on and I run a 7:20 for mile 13. Unfortunately that’s mile 13 according to my Garmin. Mile 13 in the race doesn’t appear for another quarter mile! We run ALL the way around RFK Stadium. And then there’s that pesky 0.1 at the end. Nevertheless, I still manage to cross the finish in 1:42:57, slipping inside my goal of 1:45:00. And then there’s the silver blanket (don’t they know I ONLY ran a half-marathon) and the lady with the medal (thank you!) and the medical person asking if I need help (do I look THAT pathetic?!) and the guy who wants to take the bracelet off my leg (hope he doesn’t mind all that slippery body glide but it certainly helped prevent chafing!) and then I saunter over to my car and get some Endurox and some dry clothes and call my husband and realize that I’m still out of breath!
The National Marathon/Half-Marathon is a fabulous race with a great staging area, although next year I’ll probably allow a little more time for traffic. I may even run the marathon – if I can learn to pace myself…
March 2007
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