Priceless

"Start spreading the news, I'm leaving [in November]
I want to be a part of it - New York, New York"


Hotels and Rental Car = $400

Air Fare to Austin (from LAX) = $220

Entry to Austin 3M Half-Mary = $50

Qualifying for the NYCM = Priceless*

One of the reasons I picked this half was that I have been contemplating buying a home outside of the LA area and Austin was a contender. The fact that the course drops ~300 feet (net) did not hurt.

Unfortunately, I did not 'memorize' the elevation profile and 'that' ended up playing havoc with my mind.



The route is practically a point-to-point. I drove to the start with plenty of time before the race. I warmed up for two very easy miles with four strides at perceived half-mary effort.

After the brief warm up, I made my way to the start and went through the barricades to secure a place a few rows behind the really fast folks. There was this woman who looked to be in her 60s in front of me and I decided to move up a bit as I did not think she could run 7mpm or faster. A local high school choir sang the star spangled banner and they did a brilliant job.

Then it was time for the countdown... and the horn was blown. I immediately reached perceived effort. There was a brief time where my breathing became labored, like in a 5K, but I backed off back to pace. The first mile was a 6:53 (-1), and I was ok with it. There is a man in his 50s wearing orange shorts whom I target, but he slowly leaves me behind. The pace feels slow; it also feels hard. The lack of race specific training is making its mark. I am struggling. Yes, this early in the race. Mile 2 goes by in 6:58 (+7). Damn. I was hoping to bank time early on in the race. I did remember that the first mile or so was uphill. The slower second mile puts a dent on my fragile hopes.

I just keep reminding myself to go "one more mile." If all else fails, I will have a nice tempo run. The weather has been perfect. There seems to be a slight headwind but it is not so. It is just air resistance as two flags I happen to notice are as still as wood. Even the few turns are not that bad. My hip flexors are behaving, product of the core workouts I have been doing. Mile 3 is clocked in 6:41 (-4)... thank goodness. It gives me a brief, but needed boost. I have also managed to bank a few seconds. The course appears to be descending. I ran mile 4 in almost the same time as mile 3, 6:42 (-14). My confidence is growing, yet I am starting to feel tired. The reality of racing. I much rather 'run' 13 miles than 'race' them. Racing is hard. Racing is painful. Mile 5 includes a couple of 90-degree turns. I hit the split button in my watch and I peak to see what it reads... 6:18 (-48) WTF!!! It did not feel THAT fast. I suspect that mile to be short.

The next mile would support my suspicion as I did not think the course got much more difficult, 7:04 (-36). My struggling mind comes up with a plan: to run the next five miles in 7mpm and hammer the last two. I do not execute it though. My quads feel a bit sore; my right calf threatens to cramp. No way can this happen in a half. I am in denial. Mile 7 would bury any last hope I harbored, 7:09 (-21). I am even having trouble doing the math. All I can figure is that I have about 20 seconds in the bank. Not nearly enough if the 'race' continues like this. To make things worse, more than a few runners pass me. This was really tough as I am fairly good at sustaining my place; heck, I am supposed to pass runners, not the other way around. I try my last gear in an effort to get back into the race.

Mile 8, 6:44 (-29)... the added effort pays off. Right after 8, we turn east and the rising sun is right in front of us; it would remain this way for about 1.5 miles; not pleasant. I have been carrying my shades, but every time I put them on, they would fog up. This would be my last attempt as they fogged up again. The brief high I experienced at the end of 8, does not last long. I am sure I lowered the effort in the next mile as I was really tiring. Mile 9, 6:52 (-29). Damn. I beat myself up as I am running. I should have done this; I should have done that. An inner voice, however, tells me that it's okay, that this is just not my day, that there will be another race where I can race my goal, a day where I will show up better trained. Mile 10, 6:57 (-24).

At this point my mind is fried. I am done. I am toast. I press the display button in my watch to see the total elapsed time, and I press the split button instead. My feeble mind does not register the mistake and I keep on pressing the split button. It dawns on me that I am pressing the wrong button and I finally press the right one and see the cumulative time. I don't even try to do the math; all I know is that I still can manage a miracle.

Again, I did not remember that the last 5K was a nice downhill, otherwise i would have felt better, much better. Mile 11, 6:42 (-34). I also pass guy-with-orage-shorts. My watch reads 1:15:00 flat, and I know I am well within my goal. I could run the next stretch in just a tad over 7 mpm and still make it. My whole body is tense. I can not get it to relax. I am cutting the tangents. Mile 12, 6:43 (-43). I decide to cruise the last mile and not risk a cramp. Mile 13, 6:45 (-51). The last 0.1 is a continuation of mile 13, effort wise, 0:39 (-53). I raise my arms in triumph.

As I am approaching the finish line, I hear my number being called. The announcer does not follow up with my name. Hmm, that does not sound right.

I hang out to check the results. They are posted and my name is nowhere to be found. WTF! I come all the way over here and to not have an official time? I don't think so. If the NYCM was not on the line I would not have cared. I go over to the awards tent where I explain my situation. She takes my info and I am told that it will be fixed. An acquaintance tells me that these things do happen as he has worked the timing himself. He and I head over to the truck where the guy who works the computer is and tell him what happened. He tells us that he has already been told and that my time is in the system. Gun time: 1:29:15, Chip time: 1:29:07.

I'll see you in NYC :-)

Alas, I have a bunion on my left foot, on the fifth metatarsal. It hurts :-(

*I am assuming that the NYRRC will continue to use the same guidelines they have used in the last couple of years; but you know what happens when you assume... Oy!

Lastly, a few interesting bits about my last two races:

1.- They, both, were held at Capital cities.
2.- They, both, qualified me for other races.
3.- They, both, dropped ~300 feet in elevation.