Recently (28th of July), I ran in the 2019 Run Melbourne Half Marathon. This was my sixth race over the half-marathon-and-beyond distance and I’d been anticipating it for a while. At the time, my half marathon PB was 1:29:40 from a race in March, and I was looking to break 1:25 at Run Melbourne. The following excerpt details some of the events and thoughts from the day. Details of this run on Strava can be found here.
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I wake up in darkness to the sound of a familiar ringtone: my phone alarm. As I reach over to turn the alarm off, I note the time on my Garmin watch: 6am. One hour before Run Melbourne. After a few minutes, I get up, turn the lights on, make my bed and stare at the running gear laid out from the night before. In particular, I stare at my starting zone on the race bib pinned to my shirt: P. P for Priority. I find it a little unbelievable – I’ve never considered myself anywhere close to an ‘elite’ runner, but here I am about to start this race with over 5000 people at the very front. Starting with people that can probably run 15-minute 5ks or sub-3 hour marathons. I shake my head, drink some water, grab my bag, and head to the venue on my bike.
Riding down Swanston St at 6:30am on a Sunday is a pretty therapeutic experience. There are no cars, no trams, and all the traffic lights are green. As I ride, I think about my goals and plan for this race. I told myself a few months ago that I would try to go sub-1:25 in this race, which is about 4:02/km pace for 21.1km. I ran a 40:00.74 in a 10k race two weeks prior (4:00/km pace), so I know that I have it in me to hold this pace for a while – but whether I can hold this over 21.1km I am unsure about. I decide to plan and run this race how I’ve run my other HMs: take the first 10k a bit slower, then speed up in the second half. This means around 4:05/km for the first half, then 4:00/km for the second.
Getting to my “P” starting zone is a little intimidating. As I jog past the “B” and “A” zones, I try my best to avoid eye contact with runners from these zones. Thanks to my peripheral vision however, I am able to gather that there are a lot of fit and lean-looking people. I begin to question myself: am I really in a starting zone above these athletes? Imposter syndrome thoughts start creeping in. However, there’s no time to think – before I know it, I hear the countdown: “3! 2! 1! … Let’s go!” and I’m starting my Garmin watch with a swarm of other runners. Beep. It begins.
The first 5k of the race feel good. At 3km, I find my friend Chris from a previous HM and tag along with him. We run together for 2km, but I decide to let him go once I see my 5km split: 19:57, or a 3:59/km pace instead of my planned ~4:05/km pace. I immediately slow down and begin to worry that I’ve gone out too fast, mentally preparing to enter struggle town for the next hour or so.
At 6k, my worries manifest themselves with the insidious feeling of lactic acid slowly filling up my legs. Each leg swing feels a little heavier, and each breath feels like I’m taking in a little less oxygen. I decide to take a fast-acting glucose gel at 7km out of desperation to give me energy, but I can’t tell if it’s helping or not. Still, I march on – there is no going back.
The first major hill at 10k is a big yikes. Seeing it from a distance immediately warranted a small prayer of desperation to God to either make the hill smaller or give me super-quads to get through it. My pace slows right down to 5:00/km up the hill, but I manage to get up it without walking. Thank you God, and thank you Melbourne Uni Athletics Club for all those hill repeat sessions.
After the hill is a bit of a blur. A lot of runners pass me, and I see many random supporters holding various signs. One of the signs say, “Don’t stop! The zombies are still behind you!” and another, “21k = 21 beers at the finish!”. These don’t really help – I don’t particularly like beer, and at that point I probably would’ve let the zombies have me.
Gratitude is a powerful emotion. And sometimes, it comes at times when you least expect it. At 18k, my body is beginning to fail. My left hip begins to cramp, my right achilles begins flaring up and every footstrike hits the ground hard. People begin passing me every couple of meters, and I begin to feel sorry for myself. I start yelling at myself for not doing more hill repeats in training, for going out too fast and for not doing enough calf raises amongst other things. But then, a wave of peace floods me. I’m reminded of how blessed I am to be living in the city of Melbourne. To be part of such an amazing running club. To have friends and family to help me through difficult times and to celebrate good times. To even exist. A scripture passage hits me hard and clear: Matthew 11:28-30. It says:
28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
Matthew 11:28-30 (NIV)
I end up finishing the race in 1:28:11. While it was nowhere close to my intended 1:25 goal, I still managed a 89s PB. I’m a little disappointed after the race due to the lack of bananas at the recovery area, but soon forget about it as I begin chatting to familiar faces. One of my coaches ran 1:27 and another ran 1:19 – both huge PBs for both of them. Chris from earlier in the race went on to run 1:25, three minutes off his previous PB. I am so happy for all of them, and am excited to see the times they’ll achieve in the future. As I see other runners crossing the finish line, I can’t stop smiling – I wonder about each finisher’s own experiences from the race and whether they found it as challenging yet peaceful as I did. I check my Garmin for my recommended recovery time: 72 hours. I laugh, and hobble back to the bag drop area to begin my ride back home.