The day before race day was Notre Dame vs. Tulsa, which was particularly soul-crushing with the clarity of a purely H2O pregame due to the race the next day. I was planning on making the trek to Chicago alone, but I miraculously convinced my buds Ali, Scott, and Josh to hop in the car with me and meet me at the finish line in the morning.
I was nervous and wired the night before the race (which started at 8am) so I didn't get a great night of sleep, but I had packed my Gladware container of Kashi GoLean and shamelessly brought it into the hotel restaurant and ordered some skim milk and coffee as a pre-race meal. At mile 10 I was really wishing that I had ordered two scrambled eggs as well since it felt like my stomach was caving in, but I had no interest in running on a full stomach.
I walked over to the Start line in Grant Park, stretched, warmed-up, and joined my fellow 2:00 runners. The most frustrating thing about the race was the first two miles. It was a narrow course until we got out to the lake, so I wasn't able to get to my race pace until I was well into my third mile. The course was beautiful - all along the waterfront through Lincoln Park and then a loop back around, and the weather was perfect - a brisk and sunny low 50s morning. The only problem was that I finished 3 minutes over my goal time, even though I was trucking it to compensate for my slow start and having to stop and take off my jacket and re-pin my number. I know 2:03 isn't horrible, but I knew going into the race that I could finish in under 2 hours.
Weeks went by and I was content with my race, but not super-psyched about it. There was that twinge of failure still haunting the race and a lot of "what if I had just worn long sleeves and a vest? What if I had placed myself in a different pace corral?" Then I was eating dinner one night and I got an e-mail from the Monster Dash people apologizing because the day before the race, they were told that they either needed to re-route the race or cancel it. They re-routed, but instead of only being 13.1 miles, it was 13.4. It was a total rookie mistake, but I felt totally vindicated. The real distance meant that I had actually made my goal time. Granted, my official printed time will never be 1:59, but the satisfaction of knowing that the race was .3 miles longer than it should have been is good enough for me.
Things I Learned:
1) Wear neon. You can't tell from the pictures, but my shirt is about as florescent pink as they come. And it was so fun to run in. Neon just makes things happier, and makes it easier for your friends to spot you.
2) Bring Friends. The last mile would have been miserable if I hadn't seen anyone there cheering me on. Just knowing that there is someone at the finish line who is going to hug you a give you a piggy-back ride to the diner for breakfast makes all the difference.
3) Start with F**k You. By Cee Lo Green. Unedited. The happiest song to run to, but it also has that attitude that you need in the swarming packs of people at the beginning of a race.
4) Pin your number on your pants. I had some serious layer issues. The only solution was that I should have just pinned my number to my leg instead of any of the tops I was wearing because then they can always see it.
5) It's just as much of a mental race as it is physical. When you're out there for 13.4 miles essentially alone, there is a lot of self-motivation that needs to happen. Even if your legs get tired, it's easy to push through if your mind is focused. But if you're not mentally prepared, all of the physical training just falls apart. I cheesed like a fool at the photographers, ran like Phoebe, and jammed to Rush's Spirit of the Radio. Whatever works, right?
Any other race day tips? What's the best race (half-marathon or other) that you've ever done?
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