I woke up on Saturday morning to the pitter-pattering of rain on my bedroom window. I had known that there was a chance of rain that morning, but from looking at the weather the day before, I had gotten the impression that we were talking about scattered showers and general gloominess. Not so – I looked at the weather app on my phone and saw this:
This was definitely not scattered showers; this was wrath of God, Russell-Crowe-please-let-me-on-your-boat rain. And this was a bummer because I was signed up to run the Hellyer Half Marathon that morning as a last big training run for the Modesto Half Marathon and I wanted nothing more than to stay in bed with a cup of coffee.
Against all of my better judgment, I got dressed, caffeinated, and hopped in the car for the short trip to San Jose. Of course, it rained the whole time, and when I got to the park, it was all rain jackets, torn trash bags, and people under makeshift umbrellas as the hustled to sign waiver forms, get their t-shirts, and then congregate under the one piece of shelter in the area. Some photos:
Against all of my better judgment, I got dressed, caffeinated, and hopped in the car for the short trip to San Jose. Of course, it rained the whole time, and when I got to the park, it was all rain jackets, torn trash bags, and people under makeshift umbrellas as the hustled to sign waiver forms, get their t-shirts, and then congregate under the one piece of shelter in the area. Some photos:
I am, as a rule, completely unprepared for running in the rain. I don’t always let rain stop me from my short mid-week runs, but in those cases I usually get by with normal cold weather clothes and just resign to being soaked. However, I don’t have any kind of plan in place for long-distance rain running, and I don’t own a rain jacket or anything like that. As a result, I defaulted to a typical black pullover:
Those of you who know me might recognize this particular brand of clothing from everywhere because my fashion sense is not known for branching out. So, with my trusty black pullover, my obnoxious yellow shorts, and my new kicks, I lined up in a big mud pile to start the race. In order to prevent it from being soaked beyond repair, I left my phone in the car, essentially leaving me without anything to tell me my pace.
It was slow-going at first, as the bike path on which the race took place had taken on a tide pool façade and we all had to jostle for position while hopping over puddles. I eventually settled into something resembling a steady pace after the first mile and began to find my inner peace. When you took out all the rain, the howling wind, the sporadic flooding, and the guy in front of me joking with his girlfriend about his large penis, the course itself was pretty nice. It was mostly flat with some gentle rollers than never forced you to a walk. There were tons of trees with nice views of the hills out in the distance. It was easy to find a place of calm amidst the storm.
However, that does not mean that the first couple of miles were uneventful. In mile 2, we all came across was essentially a spontaneously-created creek crossing (seriously, the worst place to run in a torrential downpour is next to a creek). We all tried to find the shallowest place to step over, and I of course found the deepest, resulting in my left shoe being completely soaked. In miles 3, it became apparent that my nipples would not survive this race. Turns out that heavy rain turns my running shirts into cheese graters, and with ten miles to go, I could already tell that they didn’t stand a chance.
However, that does not mean that the first couple of miles were uneventful. In mile 2, we all came across was essentially a spontaneously-created creek crossing (seriously, the worst place to run in a torrential downpour is next to a creek). We all tried to find the shallowest place to step over, and I of course found the deepest, resulting in my left shoe being completely soaked. In miles 3, it became apparent that my nipples would not survive this race. Turns out that heavy rain turns my running shirts into cheese graters, and with ten miles to go, I could already tell that they didn’t stand a chance.
Somewhere between miles 5 and 6, the rain began to soften, and by the time I had reached the halfway point, it had stopped altogether. For the rest of the day, it was cloudy with intermittent light showers and occasional glimpses of sunshine. This was very welcome news – I couldn’t imagine another 6 or 7 miles of the rain we had at the beginning of the race.
Things went along well until right around mile 8. That’s when The Period of Great Pains began. It started with a nagging pain in the side of my left knee that hit me any time I did any bit of uphill running. I started taking short walk breaks every so often and that managed to keep the pain in check, albeit temporarily. Then I started getting sharp pains in the bottom of my stomach; I countered with some food and that seemed to do some good, though it never really went away. Lastly, the effects of running in what was basically a wall of water began to take their toll – the soaked sock began to turn into minor blistering on the bottom of my foot and the aforementioned nipple pain began to intensify.
Things went along well until right around mile 8. That’s when The Period of Great Pains began. It started with a nagging pain in the side of my left knee that hit me any time I did any bit of uphill running. I started taking short walk breaks every so often and that managed to keep the pain in check, albeit temporarily. Then I started getting sharp pains in the bottom of my stomach; I countered with some food and that seemed to do some good, though it never really went away. Lastly, the effects of running in what was basically a wall of water began to take their toll – the soaked sock began to turn into minor blistering on the bottom of my foot and the aforementioned nipple pain began to intensify.
As a result of all of this, my pace slowed considerably, especially in the last two miles. It’s not so much that I ran out of gas like I did with the ten miler in January; it’s more that I just lost the willingness to drive. This was more pain that I was accustomed to in a long run, and given how the day had gone and the fact that I had already filed this in my head as a training run, I didn’t have the desire to push myself.
In the end, I crossed the finish line at 2:23:01, good for a pace just under 11 minutes per mile. This is obviously not what I wanted (I was hoping for something in the 2:10-2:15 range), but considering the circumstances, I wasn’t unhappy. I felt better later in the day when it hit me that since this was only my second official half marathon (the first being the Modesto Half Marathon in 2012, where I finished in 2:55), I had technically PRed by about 32 minutes. That’s something to celebrate!
In the end, I crossed the finish line at 2:23:01, good for a pace just under 11 minutes per mile. This is obviously not what I wanted (I was hoping for something in the 2:10-2:15 range), but considering the circumstances, I wasn’t unhappy. I felt better later in the day when it hit me that since this was only my second official half marathon (the first being the Modesto Half Marathon in 2012, where I finished in 2:55), I had technically PRed by about 32 minutes. That’s something to celebrate!