St. Luke's Half Marathon - RunHalf Marathon

Slowly made it with the crowd to the starting line, nimbly jumped up to tap the banner, landed, and started my Garmin. I just began my first half marathon! Next came some waterworks. Was it nervousness? Excitement? Fear? Being very caught up in the moment? Probably all of the above. I choked back the worst of it and kept on moving. My goal, per my training levels and McMillan's calculator, was to keep my pace between 11:00-11:15, no slower than 11:30. My overall goal was to finish in under or around 2 hrs. 30 minutes, and the pace listed above would get me there with perhaps a little extra push at the end.

As we wound our way through the first of the parks, I tried to take it all in: the beauty of the day, the other racers, the excitement in the air. I showed appreciation to each band we passed by clapping my hands in the air or singing or yelling. Dork. Yup. :)

I kept an eye on my Garmin to be sure I stayed in my pace range. Check, doing good. Since I started at the literal end of the whole group thanks to the long bathroom lines, I passed a fair amount of folks in the first few miles. I had my Fuel Belt on so I could drink what I wanted when I wanted and I had my gels in there, too. Sipped a bit of water around mile 2, ate a Gu Roctane around mile 4 with some more water. Passed Lindsay and Steph (Stacey, ha!) as they were coming back the out and back and got a hugh high 5 from Linds. Feeling good, enjoying the experience, enjoying the day, enjoying the crowd and bands. Noticed a small rock in my shoe early on, probably between miles 1 and 2 but it was up near my toes and not really causing a problem so I let it be.

Mile 5. Still feeling mostly good, but something seemed off. Further self-evaluation, I was slowly feeling more and more 'off'. Head felt a little funny and legs were starting to feel a bit tired. This doesn't make sense, I thought. I shouldn't feel like this yet, not for another few miles at least. Continued self-monitoring made me realize I was starting to have trouble breathing. WTF?! I pushed on, feeling noticeably worse as time passed. OK, now I was really having trouble getting enough air, so I decided to walk a little. I remember looking at the distance on my Garmin: 5.32 miles and I was perturbed that I needed to walk that soon even if it was physically necessary. Now the very scary part: the bronchial constriction and chest tightening continued to worsen as I walked, not improve. Breathing was very compromised, like the breathing through a straw analogy. Crap, not cool. I pressed my hand to my chest trying to ease the pain and somehow open things up. Crazy thoughts ran through my head about having an actual medical incident/emergency right there in the street and actually needing to utilize the RoadID I wear, which would let people who found me know I have asthma and they can have my organs if I croak. Surely this slight panic didn't help my situation any. I continued walking and clutching my chest and trying to calm myself and my airway down. I don't know how far I walked, but after things improved somewhat, I tried running again, although slower. This didn't work so well.

I slowly ran/walked for a while, and noticed the dang stone in my shoe had moved toward the ball of my foot, so I figured I've already shot my race in the butt, I may as well stop and take the stone out. I headed over to a tree, took off my shoe, shook the stone out, replaced the shoe and slowly ran again. Soon after that, we headed over a bridge and up a hill to the other parkway. Part of the way up the hill I needed to stop again because my airway was too constricted. I slogged up the hill, holding my chest and audibly wheezing, feeling so frustrated/mad/embarrased/disappointed all in one. Other racers nearby heard the strange, wheezy breathing noises I was making and looked at me as they passed. Man, I feel like a total loser.

We headed down into the parkway on a very loose, deep, small stone path. My frequent walk breaks and frustration over the situation were growing. I tried to distract myself by taking in the lovely scenery: the nearby creek, the blossoming trees, the peacefullness of the park. It worked with only minimal success: I was headed down the ugly, dark spiral staircase, hating being in the race, hating being asthmatic, hating myself for all sorts of real and imagined slights. I stopped looking at my Garmin because it was making me more and more frustrated about my lack of performance and the realization that my first half marathon was not going to have the outcome I'd hoped and trained for. Emotional darkness and psychological torment leeched themselves deeper and deeper into my psyche. Just keep plugging away as best you can so this misery can end, I told myself. I considered throwing myself off some of the little bridges over the creek as we went over them. (didn't seriously think about it, they weren't tall enough - kidding!)

At this time (I don't know what mile since I had stopped caring at that point) a voice spoke as a lady approached me from behind. "How are you doing?" ACK!! At this time, that apparently was not quite the thing my brain wanted to hear and the waterworks tried to start again as I answered her in a cracking voice, "Not so good right now. I'm kind of an emotional mess". I don't remember what else I said or what she said, all I know is she said we'll stick together and finish this together. At this moment she was nothing short of an angel because I truly needed someone or something to pull me out of the abyss. I have never, ever, felt so discouraged and disheartened during a race before.

My angel, Mary Ellen, was awesome. We chatted as we walked/slow ran and along the way she had many friends and family cheering her on it was so wonderful, although this made me a little sad, too, since my family doesn't come to races, nor do many, if any, of my friends or even my husband (he's been to 2 tris and that's it of all my races, ever). At some point one of her sons joined us to run and was very good company. Finally as we got back into the park near the end, another group of her friends/family joined us. We were now a posse of 8! She was so dear, introducing me right away to any new people of hers spectating or joining us, making me feel part of them, if that makes sense. Together our group got closer and closer to the end. In the distance I could hear and see Steph, who had already finished, yelling and jumping, cheering for me which made me smile. The end was finally near!! Mary Ellen and her clan and I and Steph made our way up the semi-steep, mean little hill up to the track. My friend and most of her posse peeled off, but one guy stayed with us, urging us both to run on the inside lane of the track where it was shorter. Bless his dear heart, looking after me as well as her. Mary Ellen and her clan are good people! At one point she said, "I don't think I can keep running until the end!" I rubbed her arm and said, "Yes you can, come on, we got this!!" In the final 50 yards I let her go ahead, letting her sprint to the line and have her moment. About 3 seconds later, I crossed as well and saw Lindsay standing there waiting for me with my medal! She asked a volunteer if she could put my medal on me and the volunteer obliged. Such a great moment, sharing that memory with my friend. Unfortunately, the sense of accomplishment and achievement I was hoping for didn't come. Yes, I finished and yes, it was within the allotted time, but finishing didn't feel as good as I anticipated, emotionally. Physically it did, for sure!!!

Aaaaah, totally loaded question. I suppose since the asthma issue was beyond my control, I'm just not sure.

Gave Mary Ellen a quick hug and another thank you and left her to celebrate with her family and friends. Mad props to her for finishing her first marathon at age 61!! Got 2 waters from the volunteers at the end, then headed to the food area with my friends. Grabbed a bunch of food which I saved until the next day to eat: banana, orange, black bean brownie (tasted much better than it sounds!). I did manage to eat some of the mini pierogie vegetable soup and a tiny bit of quinoa salad, otherwise food just didn't seem appealing. I didn't even eat anything on the way home, just drank some iced tea, diet Dr. Pepper and water.

Discovered I had a lovely crust of salt on my sunglasses which matched the lovely crust of salt all over my face. Thank heavens for wipes! Ick.

Oh, and the walk back to the car up this HUGE hill was NOT fun and nearly triggered asthma attack #3. I felt my airway closing in but thankfully we made it to the top before it got too bad. Friggin' asthma, I hate you.


Malfunctioning, asthma-afflicted lungs exacerbated by allergies. Tree pollen alerts were at high or extreme or whatever the highest level is, so I'm guessing that is what set me off. Hard to say, as I've not had this same reaction at home, ever, during run training. I'd love to know for sure what triggered the shutdown.


A lot can be learned from this race, I think, I just need more time to flesh it out. Mentally I took a pretty big hit from this race and struggled with a lot of things that I need to work out. To add insult to injury, my race shirt, my first half marathon race shirt, is a women's XL, which would normally be OK but in this case isn't. The thing is tighter than I like and short: the sleeves look like 3/4 sleeves on my arms. Sigh, the woes of being an Amazon.

Only good things to say about the race itself. This was an absolutely beautiful, scenic course with nice crowd support on the road areas and great volunteers. The bands made the day even better, and there was quite a variety: native-style drummers (using what looked to be real skin drums), rock (some small and some larger bands), acoustic, a string quartet, a gospel singer in a 3-piece suit, guitar/banjo combo to name some of them. Springtime with the blooming trees and fresh, budding leaves made the course so stunning. Well-run, well-organized, I think I may need to come back next year and have a do-over. This course and I have some unfinished business!