I promise, not every post I’ll write from now on will be a count of how many days after Ironman it’s been. But as I was shuffling my way to the end of a half marathon today, thinking “Boy, my legs must still be tired from those 140.6 miles”, I realized that it’s only been twenty days since Ironman.
I last minute signed up for a local, mile-from-my-doorstep half marathon called The Garden Run. Scanning the website and having a fairly good knowledge of the local races to choose from, I knew it was an inaugural event. I’ve read so many blog recap horror stories of other inaugural events, I proceeded with caution.
Good thing I had no expectations for it too. The morning-of packet pick-up was no surprise, a mess. When John gave the volunteer our names the volunteer hollered out “733 and 734.” The next volunteer pulled out 734, but couldn’t locate 733, my bib. So the volunteer just pulled out a random bib and said, “Here, take this one.” I shrugged, and took the bib that was not attached to my name, or emergency contact information. Hope I don’t collapse!
Pre-race, runners were flustered, trying to figure out where the starting line was. I was asked a dozen times by others, “Where do we start?” I didn’t know either! Mass confusion, and a 15 minute delayed start.
Once the race actually started the adrenaline from the pre-race chaos carried me at a 9:20 average for the first few miles, which I was pretty darn happy with! I even felt strong on the hills. But the hills caught up with me, by mile 7 my quads pretty much called it quits on me. I slowed to high nines/low tens for the last 5 miles.
I badly wanted to just walk it in from mile 8, but made an agreement with myself that I wouldn’t walk until the next hill. When I finally got to that hill I pulled out my iPhone to check what distance I was at, (the mile markers were sparse, my Garmin was dead, I had to use the mapmyrun app). The app said 9.9, yet I remembered passing a mile 10 marker a few minutes ago. Hmmm. Very soon after that I saw an mile 11 marker and thought, “Nope, no way” and the same for the mile 12 marker. I knew the course was going to be short, but really didn’t care, my legs just badly wanted to be done running!
Later, I Googled “Recovery time after Ironman” and found this tidbit from Active.com:
That explains why my legs gave up!
The half marathon ended up being 12 miles. Not a huge deal to me, but, I knew a girl who did this as her first half marathon. Pretty crummy to get robbed that mile in that situation. The awards ceremony was also mass confusion, since they handed out random bib numbers to people, I’m not sure they really knew who won. I overheard a girl say that she received two bib numbers in the mail, left one at home, but they called out the one that she left at home as the overall winner.
So inaugural events are fun. And I’m really sore.