As a way of mending that line of thinking, maybe a little cathartic exercise of reviewing my half marathon history will help me put things in perspective.
The first half marathon I ever ran was way back in 1988. I was 27, running 3-4 miles a few times a week for general fitness, and a few of my friends started running regularly with the goal of participating in the La Jolla Half Marathon. I went along with them and signed up, but other than an attempt at a 10-mile run (of which I did 7 miles and then walked the rest), I didn't train for it. I almost didn't run it all, only deciding the night before that I would give it a shot.
I wound up basically doing two 10Ks with a 3-4 minute walk break in between. That walk break was my "dirty little secret" for over 20 years. I always felt like I didn't really complete the race correctly, since my way of thinking up until this very year was that running meant running, and if you had to walk to complete the distance, it wasn't a successful race. My time in the 1988 half marathon, even with the walk, was, in retrospect, pretty awesome. I forget exactly, but I crossed the finish line in something like 1 hour and 36 minutes or thereabouts.
(Edit: Found my results card...back in those days, official results were mailed out a week or more later...)
That would prove to be the longest run of my life up until 2010. For me, until my running and fitness levels tapered off during my mid-30s, I seemed to have a block about running beyond 30 or 45 minutes. A 10K was like the outer limit of my comfort zone. 5K's were just about right, and when I ran, I'd run to exhaustion to about the 25-30 minute point.
I started running again at the ripe old age of 48, and at first, as before, the purpose and goal was the pursuit of general fitness and conditioning. That process began in earnest in 2009, and after I'd gotten myself in shape (by around the summer of that year), I turned my attention again to the half marathon. Could I do it again? I picked out the 2009 Heartbreak Ridge half marathon in September and started to train for it, which was quite unlike my lackadaisical approach as a young whippersnapper. Unfortunately, a scheduling snafu and then a sprained ankle derailed that goal and I had to push my half marathon aspirations out to 2010.
The January 2010 Carlsbad half marathon was, I guess, my official reentry back into the world of road races. By now 49, almost 22 had gone by since that 1988 La Jolla half marathon. But this time, I was trained up. I'd spent 12 weeks building my aerobic capacity, working on my lactate threshold, and building leg and core strength. How would I do?
I ran to finish. All I wanted to do was get in under 2 hours and my main worry was about not having to resort to walking before reaching the finish line; so I held a conservative pace and enjoyed the day. And what a day it was. If I could've figured out a way to bottle the emotion, I'd be a billionaire. It was a combination of a beautiful morning, a well-run race over a gorgeous course, and I ran strong and comfortably finished in under my goal time. The event set the standard against which I'd measure all the other races I'd participate in for the rest of the year. I finished in 1:48:06, which thrilled me.
After Carlsbad, I turned my attention to the San Diego Rock 'n Roll marathon, but incorporated the April 2010 La Jolla Half Marathon into my training plan. I would be returning to the site of my "failure" back in 1988. By now, though, I was starting to mature in my understanding of running and realizing that my "failure" wasn't really that at all. Walk breaks were a legitimate strategy, and the object of the race was to complete the distance in as short a time as possible. If that includes strategic periods of walking, so be it. But I still wanted to prove I could run the distance, including the killer Torrey Pines hill right near the halfway point.
I was stronger in April than I had been in January. I didn't try to hold as much back in La Jolla as I had in Carlsbad where I was more worried about pooping out. For La Jolla, I had a better idea of my limits and an improved sense of pacing. Even with the long and steep hill, I finished La Jolla in 1:43:09, shaving 5 minutes from my Carlsbad time. I didn't enjoy the La Jolla event itself as much as Carlsbad, but it was still a goal-affirming outing and psychologically rewarding.
The third half marathon wouldn't come until August, over two months after the marathon. I'd spent the summer scaling back my running a little, hoping to recuperate before tackling the marathon training program again in September. I was also dealing with strange calf strains that seemed to be popping up for no reason. So my attitude going into the America's Finest City half marathon was just to relax and enjoy the day, and just participate to complete the troika of area half marathons known as "The Triple Crown."
I felt it was the easiest of the three and without really trying or being all that prepared, I finished in 1:48:53, or not quite a minute slower than Carlsbad. I wasn't bummed about the slow pace though because it's what I had set out to do, and I was more concerned with sparing my straining calves and avoiding further injury. It was a beautifully cool morning and a well-run event. A good day.
I thought that would be it for the year, but I had a pop-up opportunity to run in the Silver Strand half marathon, and so I took it. I decided to simply fold it into my training program rather than break the schedule and try to peak for the race. I ran a semi-long 14 miler at marathon race pace on the Wednesday before, which is something I'd never do just 4 days before a HM I wanted to be fresh for. And two days before that, on Monday, I'd completed a hard interval/repeat session. So even though I took it easy for the 3 days prior to the half, I was not primed.
In my mind, I was. Saturday night, I was chomping at the bit and felt like I had a ton of energy. I'd hydrated and fueled myself right, gotten good sleep, and I thought I was going to have a shot at 1:40:00 on the flat and fast Silver Strand route.
Alas, as I was passing miles 6, 7 and then 8, and watching my pace slow while my heart rate was pushing beyond the lactate turnpoint, I came to the realization that it wasn't going to happen. By mile 9, I knew that even bettering the La Jolla time was not going to be possible.
That kind of put a damper on the Silver Strand for me. Even though I did my best and was operating with a handicap, it's still disappointing not to have that same sense of elation I got from the previous 3 races. I know I can break 1:40:00, but this just wasn't the race to do it in.
I don't have any other race plans between now and the marathon in January. I took a brief, whimsical look at the Las Vegas Rock 'n Roll in December, but it's a whopping $135 and I'd have the same issues there as I did with the Silver Strand in terms of setting myself up for a competitive result. Better to just wait until after January 23rd.
I probably won't be fresh enough for San Dieguito, which is only 2 weeks after Carlsbad. I guess I'll just have to shoot for La Jolla next April as the race for breaking 1:40. Between that and wanting to break 20 minutes in the 5K for the Carlsbad 5000, that ought to be a worthy set of motivational running goals for the spring.
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