In The Circle: Scott's First (and Last?) Half Marathon

I was just digging through some old photos, realizing how much stuff I have neglected to blog about. This one happens to be a pretty great story. Last year, in October was Scott's 40th birthday. We somehow managed to talk him into doing a half-marathon in Moab with a bunch of our friends. People said the course was lovely and "all downhill." And there was a promise of beer at the end. Seemed like a pretty good way to break him in and get him on-board with our running program. We rented a couple of condos in Moab and headed down for the weekend. You'll notice I did not mention "trained for a few months" or "did long runs every Sunday." That's right. I've gotten pretty good at off-the-couching a 13-mile run. Scott, on the other hand, probably should have run more than five miles. Once. In the dark and the snow at 6:30 in the morning. But we figured, hey! it's all downhill, right? How hard can this be?

Pre-race...so happy. There are Ty and Kellie in the background.

Race day started off a little chilly but once we got going it was the perfect temperature. I was fully prepared to hang out and run with Scott but he shooed me ahead and I figured he wanted to suffer solo. Sometimes it is easier that way, so off I went. As I trotted down the canyon, the sun was coming up. A beautiful red Snoopy plane buzzed up the canyon, dramatically close to the red rock walls.

And then after about 6 miles we burst out of the canyon, into blazing heat. It was unseasonably warm - maybe mid-70s which feels like 90 degrees when you are running. And it was WINDY. So windy that the gusts would literally push me sideways at the crest of the hills. Oh yes, that's the other thing...the run got hilly. Like really hilly. Up, down, up, down. Of all the things that can get in my head when I'm running there are a few doozies: heat, hills, wind. And here we were running in all three. Ugh. I was miserable. I couldn't imagine how Scott was faring. All I kept thinking, especially as I saw the second ambulance pass by was: well, if he's not in the ambulance, he's probably planning divorce proceedings by now. I mean, really? What kind of a birthday present was this?!

I continued to struggle along, walking a few of the steeper hills until we finally got to the last mile. If you've ever run a half-marathon, you know that the last mile feels like it's about as long as the first 12 put together. Miserable. Every time. This last mile started at the top of a hill. Now as much as I was grateful that it would be downhill most of the way to the finish line, I could not fathom how bloody FAR away it was. The runners looked like little ants they were so far away. It looked like 10 miles, maybe 100, and mentally I had no idea where I'd find the strength to run that far. I finished but it was by far and away the worst, hardest half-marathon I have done yet.

Again, I figured Scott's first words after he made it across the finish line would be to curse me.

As we crossed the finish line and reconnected with the rest of the runners in our group - Natalie, Alek, Ty, Kellie, Marie, Andy, Tiff - we kept our eyes peeled for Scott. He surprised us by crossing the finish line about 10 minutes earlier than any of expected which was really cool. And he did not instantly ask for a divorce. Also good.

So we got our medals. We got our commemorative beer glasses. And we got one beer before they ran out. I guess all the fast people also drink pretty quickly.

The rest of the weekend was lovely. Good food, good company. And Scott and I had a day alone to check out Arches National Park. Hopefully it wasn't the worst birthday ever. I'm pretty sure he's forgiven me by now, but I'm equally sure we won't be running any more races together. It's just a week and a half before his next birthday. Maybe I should sign him up for a triathlon or just to get punched in the face for an hour?