Race Report: Buck Moutain Half Marathon

13.1, baby!! Woot!

The last time I ran this course was last fall during marathon training - the infamous driving rain and cold run. So I was looking forward to Perfect Weather today and actually getting to see the views I'd heard so much about.

Race registration was on a card table lit by a camping lantern. I gladly donated $20 to the YMCA building fund and got my "goody" bag, which contained lip balm, a $10 off shoe coupon, and a wooden chip with the race logo on it - don't EVEN say that's my substitute for a medal. Free or not, it's a little depressing to do a race where there's no t-shirt and no medal. Anyway, my tummy was feeling a little weird still, and I was crossing my fingers that I'd be able to do the course in 2:30. I really, really just wanted to finish, more so than any other race I've done.

We started just about on time. The first 2.5 are flat - this is the same stretch of road where I ran my one and only 9 minute mile on New Year's day. No prob. I was trucking at around 10:45/mi. Mile 5 goes up Catterton, which I can't adequately describe. Oh, shoot, sure I can. It's a huge fucking hill. There. It's over a mile of relentless, steep uphill. I did just fine going up, and it felt great to stretch out my stride on the screaming downhill following.

Then came the real butt-kicking hills. I forgot about the back side of the loop. Up and down, up and down. Crazy drivers, no shoulder, the whole package deal. I walked quite a bit.

But then back through the village of Free Union, and only 3 miles to go, along the same flattish stretch that began the race. The only training run I've ever had calf cramps on was this Free Union run in the rain last year. I chalked it up to the rain and the cold. But it really must have been something about the hills, because I must say that the last 2 miles were extremely painful. At the 12 mile mark, 2:10 had elapsed. I was hobbling a little. I knew 2:30 was going to be close. But dammit, I wanted it. I wanted it bad. With less than a half mile to go, I could see the finish.

With the cones marking the last 100 yards in sight, I glanced at my watch: 2:28. I kicked hard, entered the chute, kicked harder. Crossed the finish and hit my watch. Did I do it?

HELL YEAH. 2:29:22, baby. Awesome.

And then my legs cramped up, there was no food or gatorade at the finish (but it was a FREE race, so I can't really complain, plus I had half a banana in the car), and on the drive home I thought I might throw up. But all in all, a great race. I was by myself just about the entire time, just a word or two as I passed or got passed by other runners. So I'm extra proud of meeting my goal.