I trained. Hard. I tapered and carbo'd. I got up early today and donned my fast shoes. After the long drive over, I smartly parked halfway between the start and the finish. With plenty of time to spare, I jogged over to the start to check-in. It's just about go-time, and I'm just about ready to go. What could go wrong?
Evidently, only one thing. I check the back of my shorts to feel for my car key which ought to be back there in the zippered pocket. IT ISN'T!
Panic attack. What do I do? Pick up my bib anyway and then run back to the car to retrace my steps? Or forget about the race and just go back to the car? The key may be close to the car, or I may have accidentally locked it inside. If I can't find it, I may need to call Debbie, who's back at the hotel. She wouldn't have a vehicle with which to pick me up, but she may be able to get our friends to make the 2 1/2 hour drive up here. Or (if it's locked inside) should I just call a locksmith?
I'm always so careful about this, I think. Why would I have messed up this particular time, I think? Just for the heck of it, I check down below: inside my shorts, but at the lowest possible position. IT'S THERE! What a miracle! I must have tried to drop it in that back pocket and instead deposited it closer to my butt. Whatever! Now, it's really go-time.
I check in, warm up some more, and then line up for the start. I ran the Tallahassee Marathon three years ago, and today's race doesn't seem much different. I'm sort of hoping for a similar result: sub-four hours. Two possible concerns: 1) I'm not as young as I used to be, and 2) I feel like I may be carrying a little more weight than I ought to.
It's cool and cloudy, and the first couple of miles go fairly well. I had forgotten how hilly the first half of this race is. The hills aren't huge, but they seem to be almost constant. The half-marathon is probably not the fastest. But after the half-marathoners peel off, the course flattens out. Most of the second half is on all-purpose trails (aka bike paths).
I make a couple of bathroom pit stops in the first half, and that slows me down a bit. I'm fairly relieved when I see that my official time at the halfway point is just under two hours. Now, if I can only keep a steady nine-minute-per-mile pace for the second half, I'll break four hours.
I'm actually running most miles a little faster than nine minutes. Just don't slow down; that's the thing. Easier said than done in a marathon. Even though I'm feeling some fatigue, I'm still keeping the pace steady. I can't go faster, but at least I'm not slowing, even during that final 10K.
I cross the finish line in 3:55. That exceeds my expectations and aspirations by several minutes. I smile as I come in and the announcer says, "Here comes Daniel Horvath from Brunswick, Georgia!" He must have corrected himself because a lady comes up to me and tells me that she is originally from Brunswick, Ohio.
I won my age group. It's my best marathon time in two and a half years.
Yeah, I'm kind of a big deal. A legend in my own mind.
