So lately, I’ve been talking a fair amount my best run ever, my run last week in the Boston Marathon. I asked for a suggested blog topic for today, and somebody suggested my worst run ever. That’s an easy one for me to write about. And I even have a picture! It was my first race, the Southern California Half Marathon on December 3, 2005. That race was definitely one to forget. Too bad I have the memory of an elephant!
In a way, that race started six weeks earlier for me. I was at work and one of my co-workers asked me if I wanted a donut. I told him no way, I hadn’t run four miles that morning to let it go to waste over a donut! He didn’t know I “ran” and he asked me if I wanted to run a half-marathon he was doing with some friends about six weeks later. I asked him how long the half-marathon was and he told me 13.1 miles. 13.1 miles. Really? Why would any person actually want to run that far? I had run 6 miles about two times 6 1/2 years earlier (well, if you include the mile or so I walked). 13.1 miles? Only an idiot would do something like that!
But he did some mystical combination of convincing me and daring me and I signed up for the race. How unreal was that? I asked a co-worker of mine who had run a marathon 15 years earlier what I should do to get ready for the race. She said if I could run 6 miles on weekdays and 10 miles once on the weekend, that I’d be fine. So, I worked my way up and trained for it. Of course, I miscalculated my route. My 6 miles daily over the next six weeks (aside from the time I took off when my daughter was born) was actually just 5.1. And my 10-miler was just 8.5. I was also a lot slower heading into the race than I thought I was. I was running 12-minute miles in training, not 10-minute miles.
Whatever, though. All 232 pounds of me showed up for the race. I carb loaded the day before, I got good-luck wishes from my relatives, friends and co-workers, and I showed up on race morning, “ready” to go. I met up with two co-workers who were also running the race. There was also a 5K being run with that race. 5K runners lined up on one side of a median in the road and half marathoners lined up on the other side. I thought for sure the much smaller group was the half marathoners. I mean really, how many idiots could there be out there? How many people want to do something as dangerous and unhealthy as running 13.1 miles? Apparently, I was on the wrong side of the median. There were several thousand half marathoners. Where do all these people come from? Where do they live? Do they train on the same streets I run on? Unreal!
I really wanted to hang with my co-workers. I didn’t want to be the slow guy. That would have been so embarrassing at work the following Monday! We talked about our plan before the start. I really wanted to run 10-minute miles. That works out to 2:11, but I figured going 2:10 sounded better. I told them that if things were going well, I was going to try really hard late to go quicker than two hours. I guess I thought I could pick up my pace three minutes per mile over the last three miles. Obviously I wasn’t too experienced.
So, we get going and I’m hanging with the two of them for the first three miles. We were running nine-minute miles — quick stuff! And then I wanted to die. I couldn’t hang, so they’d pull ahead and I’d sprint to catch up. Rinse, repeat. By mile 4, they were long gone. I didn’t have a Garmin or a watch. I was just grooving to my iPod and trying to figure out how quick each mile was based on the clock was at each mile marker.
I was getting slower and slower. I was doing the math and it seemed like the 2:10 was out of the question. I didn’t take any water for a while, because I’d never had water during a training run and I was afraid I’d cramp. Eventually, I was so dehydrated, I had to drink water at about mile 10. I was crazy thirsty and that was a relief. It was too little, too late, though.
One of Jack’s therapists had run a marathon before and told Tiff about gel packs. Tiff bought me four of them and told me that runners use them. I brought them along, but had no clue what to do with them. I didn’t use them, because I didn’t really know when or how to take them. So I just carried all four from start to finish.
Finally, I got within a half-mile and I could sense the end of this miserable day. It was getting hot, I was getting passed by kids, overweight people, old people … really, everybody was passing me. I don’t remember who I knew was showing up, but my wife was there with the kids, plus my parents, my in-laws and one of my best friends and his family were there. I was excited to see them, no doubt! It was awesome — I finished a half marathon!
But once I stopped, I could barely breathe. My buddy looked at me and told me I had racing stripes. I didn’t know what he was talking about. I looked down and saw my bloody nipples, which I didn’t know had happened, and thought, “oh wow, this is gonna hurt.” All-in-all, the race took me 2:29:45. I had to sit on a curb for about 20 minutes afterwards because I couldn’t catch my breath. I had to have my dad drive me home in my truck because I didn’t feel like I was in enough control to be safe behind the wheel.
I was completely unprepared. It was incredibly painful. Recovery took me a good week. It was miserable. It was definitely my worst run ever!
sarah says
Baaahahahaha. I’m dying. That picture says it all.
Deb says
I KNEW you’d have a fabulous story behind that! So amazing to see how far you’ve come!
Brandon says
I know how much those bloody nipples have got to hurt, but I can’t help but laugh at that photo!
Tiffany says
Oh my goodness! This is by far the funniest blog you’ve ever written! My favorite parts were about the water and the gel packs! Actually, every part was funny. Especially the part where you mention your final time. Because you do know that my first (and only) half was 45 min. faster than yours and you’ll never live that one down!
Wow, you are living proof that with consistency and drive, it’s possible to progress that much in such a short amount of time.
So proud of ya, babe!
katie says
ooooooh dear. i’m laughing that you carried gels from start to finish. sigh.
Katey says
Hilarious….although not at the time of course
Alicia says
I thought there is NO way that picture is real! That’s really funny, Sam. And oh so sad at the same time. Love that you carried the gels from start to finish. You got a LOL on that one. What a difference a few years makes, huh?
Erin F says
Bahahahah that picture is priceless. Wow, to think how far you’ve come…
katieRUNSthis says
Hi! Saw a link to this from a tweet by Bodyglide…
And all I can say is HEAVENS! That’s some serious bloody man nipplage you have going on there! I have heard about this before but saw it firsthand for the first time a couple of weeks ago at the Gulf Coast Half Marathon in Pensacola, FL. MY.OH.MY.
I have to ask…how does one recover from something like that? Band-Aids? Vaseline? I wouldn’t even know where to start!!
Layla says
Wow. While I may have laughed at your expense, I loved this story. You’re proof that people are capable of so much more than they think. And, though this may have been your worst run, I think it’s probably one of your best: It started you on the path to many more races, which you’ve used to raise money for truly worthy causes.
John A. Atilano II says
Sam, this is just an incredibly inspirational story. I think it took real courage and confidence to post this. When you crossed that finish line I bet you never thought that someday you would run 61 miles in a year and run a sub-3 marathon!! Truly awesome and truly inspirational!