After 3 and a half months of training, I nailed it.
It was a rush. It was a thrill. It was amazing.
I beat my time last year by a full 12 minutes!
As the morning began, the jitters did too. I woke up in plenty of time. Didn't eat anything this morning (on purpose), but drank plenty of water. My day was started off amazing due to a special person's words. Awake? Check. Nerves? Check. Clothes? Check. As I'm driving downtown Oshkosh, I see that it's still ghastly weather, raining terribly. The nerves began, seeing that the furthest I've ran in rain was 4 miles. How would my body react? Would it overtake me psychologically? As I park and get out of my car, I feel in the air that it's incredibly chilly. Gloves? Oh no....I don't have gloves. Check the trunk. Boom. Found gloves. I'm good now.
At around 7:15, everyone began to line up. I was runner #2394, yet people stood in the congregation seeded by what time they'd imagine getting, in ten minute intervals. I stood fairly close to the guy holding the 2:20 sign. Looking around the crowd is always an interesting thing to do. People laughing, people quiet, people stretching, warming up, etc. Overall, it was pretty loud with the talking. The announcer said something but was muffled by the crowd.
All of the sudden, the first 5 words of our National Anthem were heard. As soon as the, probably baritone, sung "oh say, can you see?" it was as if every single person in the 2,500 person crowd had stopped talking at once. An older man in the middle of the crowd bravely held an American Flag high in the air. It was a moment for me. Although many of us, obviously, were runners. Yet, all coming from different walks of life. But we all recognized that first sentence of our National Anthem like it was the sound of our own child. A tear fell down my check as I listened to the familiar melody and considered how we are all so proud to be living in this country.
Anyways. After about a mile and a half, I was in my groove. Usually it only takes less than a mile, but the hustle and bustle of everything threw me off. I didn't stop, yet I experimented with a couple different paces and breathing patterns.
Into about mile 3, I noticed a gentleman that was running a few steps in front of me. I had been behind him the whole time. He was roughly my size, maybe a bit taller, maybe a bit more slender. I could tell it was his first half marathon. I don't know why, I could just tell. But he had a great pace, so I stuck with him. I sped up a bit, so we were running side by side, and did so for about 6 miles. He nodded at me, as if to say "we're doin' this!".
Because of the rain, the track was terrible. It went on roads, yes, but a good portion (probably 5 miles, combined) of it was done on a trail through a wooded area. Hello, mud puddles. Hello, wet socks and shoes. Whatever, my whole outfit was soaked already anyways.
Run, run, run. Keep running Seth, you can do this. What helped was the many volunteers about every half mile supporting all of us, telling us we can make it and to keep it up. Every other mile there was gatorade, of which I didn't partake in until about mile 7.
Starting almost directly with the beginning of mile 10, the rain turned to sleet. It wasn't bad, but every few seconds I had a pellet hit my face, and it wasn't the most painful.
Keep running, Seth.
Around mile 11, it turned to a combination of rain and snow. Fun.
Keep running, Seth.
I pounded out the last two miles with a smile on my face. It was a smile of accomplishment.
As I crossed the finish line, the announcer (probably notified by the chip I was wearing in my shoe), tells the crowd waiting at the finish line "Coming up next, Seth Boyte from Oshkosh". I felt amazing as I crossed the finish line. Greeted by anonymous cheerers whose applause seemed more like explosions.
I had done it. I had ran my second half marathon.
After tanking 3 or 4 cups of water and 2 cups of chocolate milk, I hobbled back to my car. It was still raining, and had got much colder. Or maybe I was just not warm from my running.
As I got back home, I chuckled at how comical I probably looked in my drenched clothes and winners limp.
I hopped through the shower, called my Mom (who would have been there if she were in town), and went to bed. I slept a good 3 hours. Waking up felt like I had got beat, overnight. But I know that I'm not as sore as my first half marathon. Thanks, training.
And this is why I love running.
Thanks to anybody who read this. You're special.
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