Who Has Two Thumbs and Loves PRs? This Girl!

Last week was a bit of a(nother) guilty week, with only two runs in the bank--the first, a blisteringly fast 6-miler with my beloved (Tuesday), the second, a dull, mentally elsewhere, slogging 4-miler (Friday) with my beloved, before we rushed home to shower and pick up my parents for a long weekend visit. 

Yesterday (Sunday) was the Hyannis Half Marathon--in Hyannis, MA, on the Cape. Jared and I had been talking over and over on recent runs about our goal to run a sub-2:00 (hr) half--the last half I'd run without Jared was around 2:02, and at the Seacoast half, which we ran together, we clocked a 2:01.36. It seemed that little extra effort would be needed, but knowing there is no guarantee in running, we stressed, as runners are wont to do...and in our biweekly runs, we started trying to come out of the gate (i.e., yard) a bit faster to ensure we wouldn't end up trying to make up for the early slow miles we both tend to log.

We dutifully climbed out of bed around 7:00 a.m., then woke the parents for the long drive to the Cape. After arriving, I stood in a 20+ person line for the ladies', while Jared was off to pick up our race packets. While we waited for him, I told my dad the ins and outs of chip timing, and we got to chatting with a marathon runner sitting next to us--later, he modestly mentioned that he'd won the marathon the last 4-5 years, but that it wasn't a big deal, as it wasn't a competitive field....sure. (I say things like that all the time too, or I would, if the average pace of all racers was over 9 min/mile.) 

At last, we were off, waving at my folks, and dutifully lining up in the 9:00 min/mile pace section behind the starting line. At the shouted, "Ready, Set, Go!" we were off, cranking left and right to pass by slower runners when we could, the pace as best can be expected in a crowd, and not a bad overall pace.

At mile 5, we took a quick break for Gu--a revolting, decaf lemon-lime for me, a less revolting, caffeinated plain for Jared--and a much-needed stretch of the legs, hips, and butt. A few seconds of hedonistic rest, and we were off again, cruising back at our hard pace within minutes. At just before the 9-mile mark, Jared managed to cajole me into holding out for 10 for the next stop, with the suggestion that we just take an easy mile instead. Sheer trickery, I say, as neither of us gave mile 10 any quarter, and panting, at last slowed to a stop at the marker. Another decaf Gu for me (strawberry banana--these two offensive flavors seeming to be the only decaf options for my finicky stomach), another caffeinated plain for Jared, a hip and butt stretch for Jared, hamstrings and butt for me, along with the somewhat sick realization that we'd taken our rest at the bottom of a hill. 

No matter, though, as we kicked our legs into gear, sure in the knowledge that we had only a small distance to go. The next three miles passed much the same as the first, with limited conversation, both of us saving our oxygen for faster miles. At long last, the finish line was in sight. We kicked in as much as we could at this point, and sprinted (sort of) across the finish at 1:54.45. 

Hoorah! Just shy of a seven-minute PR. Not too shabby:)