Sadly, the Brisbane Twilight Half Marathon didn't go exactly as planned. Things started out great: after a sweltering hot day (seriously, the three of us running were seriously debating blowing the race off to lay in the pool and eat popsicles) the temperatures finally broke around 4 pm and a cloud cover stopped the beating sun that had been so oppressing earlier in the day. Little did we know that those clouds spelled impending doom! (and yes, it looks like there is a blue sky in the background, but the other direction was all grey)
This was my first race that started at night, and will likely be my last starting so late. I wasn't really sure what to do with myself all day except for to be nervous, but by the time race time rolled around I had burned up all of my nervous energy. I didn't really like feeling like I couldn't do much during the day as I was trying to conserve energy and know that I much prefer an early morning race to "get it out of the way."
That being said, if the race had been in the morning it would have ended in the sweltering heat and that would have been pretty bad.
But as it turns out the weather in Queensland can be just as nasty when it's not hot, too.
Whoaaaaaa, how did we get from the dry picture at the start to the above?
Answer: just past the 8k mark when the sky fell open and the wind was gusting up to 100 kilometers an hour. Not fun, especially when you're trying to cross a bridge. Things just got worse after that-- the street we were running on quickly became flooded, the lights went out and plunged us into total darkness and then a tree fell on a poor runner's head. That was the final straw for the race officials, and they quickly ushered everyone off the course to the "finish."
I'm not going to lie- I was pretty bummed when the race was called as things were going really well. I was hitting a pace I was confident I could get between 1:50-1:55 with and the course (a weird out and back, out and back loop thing) was fairly flat. But, I was also pretty petrified of the howling wind the the pitch black dark and branches cracking everywhere. I had briefly flirted with the idea of pulling off at the 10k mark, but had convinced myself that because I felt so strong it would be silly to stop. Being forced to quit is not a fun feeling.
Crossing the "finish line"-- can you see all three of us?
After we were pushed through a premature finish and handed medals that I don't think we really deserved the three of us (my boss and a fellow manager) decided that the next logical thing to do would be to run home. Why? I'm not really sure. But as it was two against one, off we went into the darkness.
If you know me, you know that I hate the wind and I hate being wet. Add some running in there and you've pretty much got my recipe for Hell. We ran for another 7k, rounding out our mileage for the day to be just under 18.5k. Not a half marathon, but close enough in my book.
Our pace never dropped, which I'm going to take as a sign that I would have gone faster if it were dry and we'd kept running. Totally would have been a PR, right?
I was encouraged by the attempt though and think that it means I can train a bit harder (and more consistently than of late) and hopefully get a PR later this year.
Disappointed? Yes. Defeated? No. One lesson learned- if it ever looks like rain on race day, you'll find me snuggled up inside.
Now, off to see if I can get my sneakers to stop smelling like the swamp.
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