Amy Lu's View

What did it feel like to run the fastest race in my life, at a pace much faster than I ever thought possible?

I’d like to say it felt as awesome as it looks like it felt to me in this picture.

I’d like to say that I felt strong and powerful and mighty and just plain good. And that’s all true to an extent, but what I remember most is a feeling of disbelief as I crossed the finished line, just thinking “Holy sh#t I’m really going to do this.” (And of course, also being really aware that my photo was being taken and thinking I’m totally going to rock this photo and make it look amazing even though I am a total narcissistic goofball for hamming this up).

It’s been a week since I experienced this milestone with the Med City Half Marathon, and I’m still trying to process my memories and feelings. I think I’m still in shock. I’ve actually been working on this post all week because it’s so hard to put my experience into words.

Not only did I amaze myself with my race performance, but I also shocked Chad. He planned on seeing me cross the finish line, but I basically snuck up on him after the race at the water hydrant station. (He was cooling off, not fighting a fire). He simply didn’t expect me to be done with the race so shortly after he was. (An aside: surprising yourself and your husband on your 23rd anniversary is a special kind of awesome)

I went into the race thinking I may end up with a 9:30/mile pace because of the heat and humidity. Just how hot was it? It was actually only 70 degrees when we started at 7:00 a.m., but the humidity was around 70%. By the time we finished (before 9:00 a.m.), the temperature was probably close to 80.  I can only imagine what it would have been by the end of a full marathon around noon. Yes, it was probably the right call to cancel the full marathon, especially since Chad and I would have attempted to run it if it had been held, heat be damned.

Surprisingly, I didn’t feel that hot during the race. Maybe because I knew it was going to be hot and sticky, I just accepted it. Or maybe because I was well hydrated and had plenty of water available (not like the training run earlier this spring when all the water fountains I was relying on were still off). I was a little worried about getting heat stroke (or something) because I wasn’t sure I would know it was happening until it was too late.

So I kept a close eye on my heart rate, hoping that it would let me know if things were going awry. My heart rate never even got as high as it usually does during a race, so I was/am a little worried that I didn’t put enough effort into the race. Perhaps I could have went even faster! But when I did try to go faster, I started to feel a little nauseous, which could have been just been a typical “I feel a little pukey” feeling that hard running can bring on, or it could have been the first signs of a heat-related problem. So I dialed it back. I wasn’t sure exactly how well I was doing, but I know I was doing pretty well, and it would have been a shame to have it all come crashing down with a literal crash.

Plus, we weren’t trained for a half marathon. Yes, we were trained for a marathon, but the strategy for running these races is significantly different. We just didn’t know how well the training would translate.

Although my snazzy and beloved Garmin sports watch would have told me exactly what my pace was and how well I was doing, I deliberately chose not to have it display my pace. For me, running is a huge mind game that I play against myself. Seeing my pace gradually fall (I have NOT yet figured out how to get faster as a race progresses, no negative splits for me) was going to discourage me and freak me out, no matter how good a pace I had. I got a notification at the end of each mile so I knew how fast that went, but I didn’t watch my overall pace until the very end.

Instead, I tried to be zen and experience the moment. I tried to embody the wisdom of one of the inspirational signs posted along the route at 12: “Run the mile you’re in” (not to be confused with “love the one you’re with.”) Of course my mind was wandering all over the place. Still, I tried to notice and appreciate the beauty of running through the country (the route started outside of Rochester), and then the amusing weirdness of running through what felt like people’s backyards and around parked cars as we entered the city.

So thank you Med City HALF Marathon. You gave me the opportunity to amaze myself, get an awesome photo, and have a romantic anniversary all without puking.