Running On Empty

So I finished…with a whimper.

Having run many a half-marathons this one was the second most difficult with my first being the most.

Why?

One reason is understandable: All of my training was on a treadmill so about mile 10, I really began to feel sore in my legs.

But, there’s always a but, sometimes there’s even a but abutting another but, but I digress, the second reason is mysterious.

The morning’s chain of events had me on a school bus headed to the starting line around 7am, and after arriving at the starting line, was able to empty my bladder well before the start time of 8am for the half.

Did not drink a drop. Scout’s honor.

Feel great, pace is under an 8 (good for me) and I’m relaxed.

Around mile 5 I have to, you know, urinate. Never before have I had to do this for a half.

Stop at the port-o-let at mile 5 aid station and, of course, someone is in there.

Not waiting, keep going.

Mistake, me thinks. Next port-o-let at mile 7, about 17 minutes later.

But at least its empty…and after about two minutes my bladder is finally empty.

So I lost two minutes using the restroom but the real bummer is that for some reason, after this I could never straighten up. Just felt a side stitch for the remaining 6 miles every time I tried to run tall or elongate my stride. Bummer.

Then of course the treadmill training really reared its ugly head around mile 10 and the pain caused my pace to drop way…way down. Below sea level down.

But the wife and kids were right before the finish so I perked up a little but as you can see, 

the back half was brutal.

At one point, this always happens, I thought they forgot a mile marker. This one was the mile 11 marker… “where the hell is it?”

Crossed the finish line and hobbled to a tent for water and bananas but didn’t even stick around for 2 free beers so you know there was some pain involved.

All in all clocked in at 1:51:05 for a pace of 8:29 and may even do another one in the fall.

Maybe.