Half-marathon complete.
When I crossed the finish line they gave me half a medal. No joke. Except it was funny. Sorta.
My comedian appreciated the thought and the execution, but the athlete in me was pissed off. I ran (well, jogged, but still...) 13miles! In 2.5 hours! That's an accomplishment. But, it's not a
marathon. It's
half a marathon so you get half a medal. See? Again, I'm torn between laughter and tears. What did the 10k folks get? In context, yes, it was a half-marathon. But out of context, it's 13 fucking miles! If you are bothering with medals, then give me a full medal rewarding the completion of my personal goal, not some snide reminder I didn't run another 13miles. That's weird, right?
Anyway, it's over, it's done and I couldn't be happier about that. I might run a half-marathon again, but not any time soon. It was grueling. I did a decent job pacing myself and, despite my lack of training, only had to walk for a short distance between miles 11 and 12 because of some muscle spasming. I really, really wanted to say I jogged the entire thing, but I also didn't want to cross the finish line in an ambulance. Speaking of which....
Around mile 8.5, close to the turnaround point, I saw a guy laid out on the side of the road with a small group of runners around him. "Poor guy," I thought, "got a cramp or maybe fainted." It was a reminder to keep carefully pacing myself, but nothing alarming. However, since he was close to the turnaround, I ran by him again a short time later and this time closer. I could see he was completely out of it and I heard an ambulance. Then I realized someone was doing chest compressions on him. That rattled me. You don't do chest compressions on someone whose heart is beating. So surreal. It was one of the few beautiful mornings we've had this year and numerous spectators lined the course cheering their friends and family on. A small, but enthusiastic (loud) group was only about 10yards up the road from the downed man. I'm sure they had no idea. Of course, I kept thinking of his family waiting for him at the finish. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting. Sickening.
However, I'm assuming he made it because I paid close attention to the news the next two days and didn't hear anything. Also, at the finish, I overheard a runner telling someone about a competitor who had a seizure and I'm thinking that was probably the man I saw. Seizures are scary, but most of the time people make a full recovery. I am praying that's what happened.
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