Saturday May 3rd I lined up with my brother Dave and 1300 other runners for just my second half-marathon. The race began overlooking the city of La Crosse, at the top of Grandad's bluff. Because the race begins with a two mile descent, and I know how difficult it is to run down-hill, I had decided that I would take it slow.
It was a beautiful morning for the run. After a week of run the sun was shining brightly. Temps at the start of the race were about 50F. Unlike my first half-marathon, my goal in this race was simply to enjoy the experience and to finish with pride.
Despite saying that I would take the first two miles slow, I started out a bit faster than I should have. Somewhere on the descent I passed both the 2:15 pacers and the 2:30 pacers. At the three mile mark I was doing well. Stacey was there as a course volunteer cheering me on, and I shed my long-sleeve shirt.
Miles 3-6 went pretty well. I was keeping about a 10 minute pace. Although I didn't realize it at the time, I was running a bit faster than I had trained (that's a problem when I logged too many treadmill miles - because of weather - while soccer and Lent took precedence to following my training plan).
I reached the half-way point at just over one hour. I took my Gu as I walked up a slight incline. It was at that point the 2:15 pacers passed me by. And the second half wasn't nearly as good.
My time slowed. I stopped to walk from time to time. My quads really started aching around the 10 mile mark. The 2:30 pacers caught me and I started running with them. Dave was long out of sight.
At various points in the race the cheers from the crowd kept me going (even when I couldn't see them but could only hear their cheering). Following the water break at the 11 mile mark I was determined to finish the race running. So I did.
As I turned the corner onto Front Street in La Crosse I could see the end. It was still about a half mile away. But I knew I would finish. As I entered Riverside Park Stacey got my picture. In the last 100 yards or so I was able to pick up my pace and cross that finish line with pride. I finished the race!
I'm proud of that accomplishment. People have asked me how I did and my response has been the same: "I finished the race and I'm proud of how I did." My time was 2:27. Sure I would have like to run faster. But that wasn't my goal. My goal was to finish and to be proud of my run. And that I did.
Our life is similar. It doesn't matter how fast or how swift we are. We run to finish the race.
