The selection of Healdsburg was merely by chance. My original plan was the San Jose Rock and Roll Half marathon, because a) it's flat and b) I've walked it before and knew if worse came to worst I could at least finish it walking. But it didn't quite fit the training schedule because of our early October cousins' trip to Santa Cruz. So when I did my search and found a half that was in my favorite town of northern California and also served wine afterwards I was in!
My only concern was the "rolling hills" they briefly mentioned on the web site. I don't do hills and I didn't do any training on them unless you count walking The Dish at Stanford a few times. I drove the course the night before and was appalled. There weren't a lot of them but there were definitely more hills than I had ever run before. I resigned myself to giving up any thought of a new record or even keeping a 12 minute pace.
The next morning in typical Tere-style, my brain argued with itself about what was possible and what was a "good" idea. So by the time I reached the start line I knew exactly what was about to happened. I started off ready to walk the first quarter to half mile and slowly get into my regular pace for as long as I could. I would walk the hills and run in the last mile or so hoping to stay close to a 12 minute pace. I started off walking but it didn't last long. As those around me started running so did I. I was surrounded by fog and loved it. I started my run and my mind roamed about as it always does. The first 2 miles were very emotional for me; I'm still not sure why. Part of it I know was total disbelief that I was actually pulling it off. But I think most of it was because Maria, knowing the thumps and bumps along the way had come to see me cross the finish line. Not only her, but Bill and the kids too. This was a huge sacrifice for them and I knew exactly how challenging it had been.
The miles slipped by and I took the hills in stride. My pace was steady and consistent. Around about mile 8 there was a pain I had never felt before making itself known to me. As the intensity grew, the gnawing in the back of my mind went from questioning the cause to what I should do about it. Nothing was making a difference I tried several times to stop and stretch it out. That relieved it for about 4 or 5 strides and then it was back again. I tried walking it out. No difference there either. So my choice was to throw in the towel or somehow make it to the finish line. I sucked it up and prayed I wasn't doing anything stupid, put my head down and walked/ran my way to the finish line. From mile 10 to 13 there was a lot of cursing going on under my breath but somehow I kept plodding along. There is nothing in the world that could have prepared me for the last half mile. I was absolutely overjoyed to be finishing the race and gave it everything that I had left Crossing the finish line, I would swear I saw myself from behind. Within minutes I saw Maria walk by with Callie and in that instant my joy was complete! I had done it and I overflowed with pride, gratitude for everyone who had gotten me there, and an unimaginable depth of love for Maria, Bill, Callie, and Lucia for being there to share in that moment. It was a moment that will never be repeated and can never be adequately described in words. Perhaps the picture below will help. I still find it difficult to believe that it happened but pictures don't lie; they only stop time.
My recovery is complete and I am getting mentally ready to do it again. Monterey, here I come!
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