Shh! Don't tell my doctor: Surfside (Half) Marathon race review

My weekend was blogworthy, though Saturday and Sunday for different reasons. On Saturday, K and I hit the road to Surfside, TX (okay, okay-- Freeport, TX) for a half marathon. Highlights of this marathon:

1) Entry fee is a flat $50 regardless of whether you do the full or half
2) Stone coaster as a participant's gift (I LOVE COASTERS!)
3) Barbecue afterward, Texas style
4) Limited to 500 people
5) Run on the beach

We got there around 7 for the 8:00 race and parked about 40m away from the packet pickup/finish line area. We got our packets (and a yellow dri-fit shirt), I snagged some energy bars, and we headed back to the car to warm our frozen body parts. I hadn't brought tights to run in, thinking "Mishele, it's going to be 50 out in Texas." This thought is not reasonable, yet it's one I continue to formulate despite having lived here for 25 months of my life. There I was, sitting frozen on a beach in 15 mph winds with no damn tights.

Oh well. I changed from my tri tank (that kept riding up on love handles on the ride down) into a red compression top with a long sleeve dri-fit over it [note: I forgot to do laundry for 2 weeks in a row and therefore was down to 1 sports bra, non-ideal running shorts, and well, compression tops]. K let me borrow some gloves someone had left in her car, and in no time we were off to the start. It was blustery, but looking to be a fun time.

Off we went. The crowd ran (jogged?) down the beach with an attitude more like that of ultramarathoners than marathoners, and K and I loved it. For the first mile I ran with her until she started walking-- K runs 9/1s, which for you non-runners is 9 minutes of running and 1 minute of walking. Sounds slow? A good 9/1er or 5/1er can kick marathon ass. But K runs a little slower than me, so I set off on my own pace. After a 10:50 first mile I settled into a 9:36 pace until 2 1/2.

That's when we turned around. Right before the turnaround I was sweating my ass off. Should I take off the long sleeve? It was just such a pain with my hat on. Besides, I was wearing a compression top underneath... was it fair to subject these unsuspecting runners to me in a compression top?

I decided it wasn't. The long sleeve stayed on. And boy was I glad I had some sense of decency because as soon as I turned around I was punched in the face by the wind. For the next 6.55 miles. At first my pace stayed at 9:41. About mile 5 it slowed to 9:47. Had I gone out too hard? Bummer! And I'd taken it so easy the first few miles; my heartrate was still in the mid-150s (aren't I obnoxious now that I have a heart monitor again?). By mile 8 I was struggling to stay around 10:00 pace, and my heart rate hit 162. Where the H was this turnaround?

Just past the mile 9 marker I saw the it. Hooray! Out of the wind! My HR dropped like a rock to 150. I was running 9:19 pace and felt amazing. Mile 10, I had my second gu and shot off like a rocket, picking off the innocent runners in front of me. 9:01 pace. 8:47 pace. 8:29 pace (the pace at which I finally got my HR over 160 again). Mile 12. 8:12 pace. 7:52 pace. Mile 13. The finish!

When I could see the clock I got a little confused. I was expecting to finish around 2:07 due to my rough time in the wind (I had my display only showing the actual time of day, my pace, and my HR because I forgot to get splits til mile 3, and then I missed a few of the mile markers). But there it was, reading 2:02. Go me! I finished in 2:02:32 on my watch, passed the clock on 2:02:36, and somehow got written down as a 2:02:47 (nope! No chips. Just two volunteers with notebooks and stop watches). Since I was out of the 5 foot chute and stretching by 2:02:47 I'm a little peeved that's what they got down, but what're you gonna do? Besides, what's 11 seconds? I'd just significantly PRed. That's what you do when your only independent half marathon you walked 1/3 of it-- but that's another story.

Almost as soon as I collected my finishers towel and the best medal I've gotten in awhile I was cold. K wasn't going to finish til at least 2:24 by my calculations, so basically I was screwed. I couldn't put my gloves back on because I'd used them as tissues, and inside the clubhouse was too hot with all the runners and barbecue hanging out. I tried to stretch out of the wind til about 2:22, when I got impatient and started walking back on the course. After a 200 of painful walking I saw K. She looked great! I ran in with her til she started her kick and I couldn't keep up. She finished in 2:29, beating her goal of 2:30. We got some eats, clothes, and headed back to the city.

This race was phenomenal. I loved running on the beach, which was like running on a trail: hard packed and very forgiving on the knees. I ran awhile with some cool guys, both of whom were doing the full marathon (they got to run another 6.5 down the beach before turning around, which doesn't sound like fun to me). I also saw Greyhound's Coach T, a high school cross country buddy of mine (she only ran a 1:43. Poor thing. She looked cool as ice too, just gliding along the course. I'd really hate her if she weren't nice). Afterward the food was great-- of course.

Crappy things: Well, the timing for one. Wah! 11 seconds! The aide stations, while supplied with well-mixed gatorade endurance and water, were only a single table long; it was very easy to miss them, and they were pretty far apart. The mile markers were also in bad places for some miles, and those would be nice to get splits from (though it's safe to say my second half completely destroyed my first one). There were also no directions to the race site, which I thought was weird and a little frustrating. Other than that I had nary a complaint, and those I do have aren't very heartfelt ones.

Chafe report: Thank god for compression! All clear.

Aftermath: K and I went to pick up our packets for Sunday's ride, then I hit the Y to do some single side lifting and 30 minutes of aquajogging. It didn't suck, though I did have to suffer through the jokes of high school lifeguards. Dear god, was I that annoying when I was a lifeguard? Yes. *shudder*

Sunday I woke up tight but not sore. While running I'd tried to engage my ass ("if you're so big why can't you do anything??") to help my feet; I was 50% successful. Try as I might, my left ass refused to cooperate, but my right one played along. I ended up with a very sore (still) and swollen left foot, but my right was just a little puffy on Sunday. Regardless, the left hurts enough to keep me from running... til next Sunday for the Austin half. Mostly doctor's orders.

Oh, one last thing. I never told you I'm unfat again; I'm back to IM WI weight. Hooray! I think I still have some muscle to put back on but at least I'm on the right track-- which isn't a running track. Sigh.

Edit: Race pictures are up here. There's one good one of me, and you're welcome to practice your voyeur skills and look me up, but I don't know how to post pictures from the internet. I suck. I'm also bib #450. The results are up here... I posted a 5th place of 26 folks in my age group. Whoopee!