March Madness Half Marathon

I watched the storm approach on Accuweather. Almost 2″ of rain was forecast, accompanied by 40mph winds. Should I stay or should I go? I could have made a strong case with plenty of reasonable excuses for skipping. But I knew I’d be ticked if I skipped the race and it ended up not raining much.

Since there was no rain yet when it came time to leave, leave I did.

You don’t run March Madness, you conquer it. It’s a no-frills, bitter pill of a race: hills so obscene they have names, no chip timing, a line of pink spray paint for the start and finish line, shirts for the first 200 only and this year really ugly burnt orange ones, and usually no bling (although there was this year). Yet it attracts a fast, cultish crowd and typically sells out in under an hour.

Amazingly with 40+ races under my belt, I’ve never raced in more than light rain. Would this be a first? I packed a repellent jacket and hat. But when it was time to go to the start, no rain to be seen so I went with a long-sleeve shirt, capris and headband.

With gusting winds, mid-30 degree temps, we lined up. Two minutes before the gun the first drops came. By the time we started it was a curtain of cold rain. I considered for a minute going home running back to the car for my jacket and hat….but my key was gear-checked. So I ran the first two miles in pouring rain.

During that time I decided I needed to shit or get off the pot commit to this race. I knew the weather would up the challenge quotient exponentially. If my head wasn’t in it, it would be a disaster.

After about two miles the rain subsided to a spotty mist. Not bad at all. Skipping the jacket was the right choice.

I didn’t feel great thanks to my carb depletion but I was determined to push through. Plus I wasn’t exactly lighting the world on fire with my pace.

Mile 5: Shoe Tree Hill. First of the “big” hills. It started to rain again. Hard.

Mile 7: I summited “The Sneaky Hill” and soldiered on. I’ve been climbing now since mile 5. I put how much better/faster I was in previous years out of my mind. The rain and sleet are coming sideways now. I’ve always wondered what dermabrasion felt like.

Mile 8: I missed the sign that tells the name of the hill so I gave it my own: Corkscrew Chaos. We are winding up and the footing is crazy uneven. At the top is a guy giving out gels. Nice new touch.

I spent the subsequent miles being grateful for the brave souls out cheering us on, for the encouraging course marshalls, the water station volunteers…imagine how miserable it must be for them to be out in this.

I thought of Japan and New Zealand and Chili and of victims everywhere and of how lucky I am to be running at all. How I am tougher than a little, ok a lot of rain…and sleet…and wind.

The positive thoughts strengthened me. Good thing because it’s hailing.

On the creatively named “10 mile hill” my brand new iPod started doing crazy things. Silly me for even tempting fate and wearing it in the rain. I put it in my Fuel Belt.

Mile 11: Just when I thought it was impossible to rain any harder, a big bolt of lightning cracked in the adjacent forest followed by ominous rolling thunder. I know they won’t call the race. And I don’t think there’s a faster way in.

So it’s blinding, pelting sheets of torrential rain all the way in. I can’t avoid puddles that kick water up past my knees. Doesn’t matter as my shoes have been squishing since mile 7.

So I finish, soaked and cold to the bone, but STRONG!

Drowned rat just in from the storm

And later, still bedraggled, rocking my cupcake marathon bib.

Don’t hate me for my burnt orange shirt.

While my time is almost 10 minutes off my time on this ornery course in previous years, I am oddly proud of how I handled the conditions and ran by feel. Positivity does a body good!