The Half Marathon That "Beat" Me

That hillside could be just about any hillside in Eastern Oregon.

On the morning of Saturday, March 18, I’ll be running the St. Paddy’s Half Marathon in Des Moines. Although I'm approaching this race as part of a "preseason" where I hope to fine-tune my running for the more prominent races starting next month, I've more apprehensions going into this than other races.

That’s because it’s a half marathon.

A race of thirteen point one miles that takes ninety minutes - plus or minus - to complete. It's the only race that I've ever failed to finish. It's also a race that "beat" me badly enough the first time I tried it that I avoided running it again for over three decades.

What happened?

Spray - home of the Eastern Oregon Half Marathon

Let me take you back to Memorial Day Weekend in 1983 when I accompanied two friends on a four-hour drive to the sprawling metropolis of Spray to compete in the Eastern Oregon Half Marathon - a race twice the distance from any I'd done before.

A sizable chip resided on my shoulder, stemming from the District Track Meet a few weeks earlier. Thanks to nine long weeks of student teaching, I didn't start practicing for Track until late March. That lack of conditioning reduced my role in the District meet from competitor to volunteer. Instead of running the 5000 Meters as I'd always done before, I called out splits for that same event. That less than inspiring duty capped the end of my to my collegiate running career. A strong desire for redemption fueled my decision to participate in this event.

This picture comes from last year's race, but provides an idea of the course with the John Day River along the highway.

Fun Fact I: The eastern half of Oregon is essentially a high-altitude desert consisting of rolling hills lined with juniper and sage brush.

Given that and with temps that would reach the low eighties during the race, my friends repeatedly advised me to drink water that morning. Like the dumb kid I was, I ignored them. Far as I was concerned, I'd ran plenty of races before without needing water. Why would this one be any different?

You know where this is going, don't you? Wish I had at the time.

The first seven miles were fine. Actually, better than fine. I'd finally gotten into decent shape. Only a few weeks too late. For the first time in months, my body felt as it had the previous cross country season - comfortable with the pace and ready to take it up a notch. Which I did as well as blissfully ignoring every water stop along that ribbon of two-lane highway.

It was around mile nine that I learned half marathons are as mentally challenging as they are physical. What hit me harder than the exertion and heat was a wearying sense that this race would never end. It seemed an eternity before reaching the marker for the next mile. Even longer to the next one. My legs maintained the pace I'd set for them. But even having a river running alongside me did nothing to diminish what seemed an oppressive amount of time for this race.

But nothing lasts forever. One final corner on the river brought me to Spray and the finish line, placing in the top ten and running under one hour and twenty minutes. For the first time since November, I felt good about a race.

This has to be how I placed in the Open division. I recall placing somewhere around 8th or 9th place overall. I wish I'd written down my exact time. But who knew it'd be 35 years before I raced another half marathon?

Fatigue set in afterwards, but no more than any other race. It wasn't until all of us were chowing down breakfast at some greasy spoon when my stomach suddenly informed me it no longer wanted any part of what I'd just eaten. A speedy trip to the outdoor restroom provided no relief. A weakness gripped me so hard that I actually laid down on the plywood path from the diner to that bathroom. Still wearing my racing shorts and top, I heard people walking around me, a skinny body lying on both plywood and dirt.

The resulting dehydration had me seeking solace in a huge, spongy bed at the home of this kind, elderly family who had housed us for that weekend. Slumber and quick trips to the bathroom rounded out my social calendar for the remainder of that day.

While learning the value of hydration the hard way and amid an incredible embarrassment over my imposition on this wonderful couple, I also swore that I would never again attempt a race of this distance.

Fun Fact II; During this time, a religious cult, the Rajneeshees, had established a community in this sparsely populated part of Oregon Our drive took us past the town of Antelope that they had taken over. Our drive occurred about eighteen months before this cult attempted to take over the county government, amid murder attempts and poisonings. Against my adamant wishes, my two colleagues decided to visit this compound. We received a brief tour, with me being visibly uncomfortable, convinced that they'd either lock the gates behind us or pour mind-altering Kool-Aid down our throats. Or both. In the end, I suspect our impromptu guide was as pleased to see me go as I was to leave. The Rajneeshees' time in Oregon is actually a remarkable story. You can find more information at this link.

This pictures shows the followers of the Rajneesh as their "guru" is being driven in one of his many vehicles.

Anyway, I maintained my vow of not running half marathons for thirty-five years. It ended in 2018 when I participated in the St. Paddy's Half Marathon. Needless to say, I did not miss a single water stop - despite it having snowed the previous night.

I ran two more half marathons that year and have run three to four each year since. While dehydration has never been an issue again, my IT band has caused me to walk the final miles for two of those races. It's that concern that guides my training as well as always providing an element of uncertainty with each half marathon.

It's also the combination of those challenges, past memories and uncertainties that makes the half marathon my favorite race. No matter the race and conditions, I'm pushed to my physical and mental limits. As a result, a good outcome grants a greater level of satisfaction than a race of any other distance.

This year's St. Paddy's race should prove a good test of my conditioning. I’ve set several goals that I hope to achieve. I’ll likely cover those goals and the race itself in my next post. But for now, I’m looking forward to facing my greatest running challenge. Again.

What about you? What are your thoughts about half marathons? I know that many of you compete in marathons and even some in longer distances. Let me know below or on Facebook.