and the winner is....me!

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, GUN.
Nothing happens.
Talk about an anti-climax.
But when you have 2000 people waiting to get over a start line it takes a while for something to happen.
Then the sea of people in front of me started to move. It was like a Mexican wave. Bit by bit the mass started moving and my stomach churned as the movement got closer. "No, no, no, no....Ok"

So I've run a half marathon. Three months ago when I signed up for the First-Half Half Marathon it seemed a lifetime away. Part of me doubted if I'd end up doing it. But I think most people are capable of more than they think and today that was true for me.

Before the race I thought my main challenge would be my energy levels given my workload in the past two weeks. I think my body has forgotten what a good night's sleep was and I can't remember the last time I went to bed without my feet throbbing (I'm actually starting to miss my office job). The morning didn't help with that. I woke up a few minutes before my alarm and used the extra time to reset the alarm for 15 minutes later.

Finally I dragged myself out of bed, scoffed some breakfast and got dressed. My game plan was to do nothing different to what I normally do. It seemed to work. Outside it was drizzling. By the time I lined up at the start, the rain was down to a few drops. No wind, not too cold. Perfect running weather.

Soon enough the race was on. We did a little loop downtown before heading out to the Seawall. We crossed back over the start line only a few minutes after leaving. It crossed my mind to maybe just stop there. That wasn't the first time I thought about stopping. When the course neared my house I thought about how nice it would be to be home instead of facing 9 more miles of running. I had my keys on me too. But I kept running. A lot of people tell me they "can't run" or "can't run that far". I had one CouchSurfer ask me for some tips and my answer was just "put one foot in front of the other". Today I took my own advice. I tried not to think about how much I had to go. With a run this long, coming across the next marker didn't make me feel any closer to the finish, until I hit the half-way mark. So much of this run was a mind-game. The course covered a lot of the ground I either run on my Tuesday night runs with VanRun or the Seawall around Stanley Park, which I've been training on lately. I just tried to tell myself that I'd run this track before so I could run it again.

As with any run there were highs and lows. The first two kilometres were OK, but then it sunk in how much more I had to go. At about 10km I started to pick up. I'd initially been aiming to finish in under two hours but I gave that aim away when I was on the bench for nearly three weeks with a cold. But when I reached half-way I realised I was actually on track to either make that goal, or at least be not too far off. That spurred me on a little, but I was careful not to push too hard given there was still a long way to go.

At 15km we were running along the Seawall towards English Bay, a path I've covered a few times. I could see the Burrard Street Bridge in the distance (which is not far from the finish line). My mood picked up, my energy levels felt good and I picked up the pace a little. Then the course veered off the Seawall and back into Stanley Park. When I realised we had to run around Lost Lagoon my spirits fell a little. I don't know why. To see the bridge ahead helped me picture the finish line and now I had to detour for a little bit.

At 3km to go I was exhausted and about to break into new territory. My longest road run to this point had been 18.5km. There were no more markers for a little while but those last few kilometres were the toughest I have ever covered. Finally I came across the 20km marker (which I had spotted on the run out), only to turn a corner and see a small hill ahead. Most people were walking up it but I was determined to run the whole way so I trudged up. Then it was slightly downhill to the finish, and once that was in sight I started sprinting. Well, to be honest it felt like sprinting but I reckon a senior citizen could have made ground on me.

The best feeling wasn't running across the finishing line, or getting my medal. It was lying down in the gym at the community centre stretching. It was an awesome few moments. Knowing it was over. Knowing that I did it. Knowing that I never have to run again if I don't want to.

I now have a medal saying I finished a half marathon. I have a First-Half Half-Marathon top that makes me look like the Yellow Wiggle. I have a very sore big toe. No blisters. Sore legs. And a growing desire to do another run. Weird.