This weekend Sarah's cousin Jeff and his wife Jo came for a visit. Jo is planning on running a race in every state and we, and Starkville's Frostbite Half Marathon, were their Mississippi stop. The local race is in it's 25th year and has about 200 entrants now. For those of you who aren't runners, that's a tiny race. It also doesn't start until noon, which is weird. We think it's because Mississippians would think it was too cold to run in the morning in January: the forecast was for high 50s/60s. Brr. The race is a point-to-point starting in Pheba, MS (a town with a gas station, a couple of churches, and one stop sign) and running 13.1 miles on highway 389 to Starkville.
Overall it was an excellent weekend filled with surprisingly good food, plenty of drinking, lots of excellent conversation, and some good running. Below you'll find our separate race reports.
Sarah's race report:
I haven't run a road half marathon in over 3 years and have spent the winter focusing on running as long as possible with absolutely no speedwork (Uwharrie 20 is looming large on the horizon). This means I wasn't feeling very well prepared and wasn't at all sure what to expect with this race. But, the competitive part of me was still hoping for a PR (personal record)--my past few trail half marathons had been pretty fast and I thought the transition back to roads might leave me pleasantly surprised. As we boarded the buses to take us to the start I looked at the Mississippi flag flying nearby and shuddered--both because of what the flag looks like and because I realized that these gusting winds I was feeling were going to be blowing straight in our faces for the entire race. Bye-bye PR. I also realized the forecasted temparature did not take those gusting winds into account and I was definitely under dressed. Hello neon-yellow cotton long-sleeve race shirt! Yes, I was one of those people--the one you snicker at when you see her on the course wearing the shirt for that race. I had to do it folks. My t-shirt was not going to cut it. I had to toss my ego aside and don said neon-yellow race shirt. I felt sheepish all day, but it was a warm sheepish.
Sorry, I digress. We got off the buses, someone blew a horn, and we all started running. I dodged in and out of a few people, felt good and looked down at my watch: 7:22 pace! What? That lasted about 15 seconds. I hit the first mile marker at 7:52--still freaking fast for me, but much closer to a sustainable pace. The road at this point was lined with trees which sort of protected us a from the wind, but it was still a force to be reckoned with. The next three miles felt good--8:18 pace. I settled down at that point and made sure the college kid with the sweatband did not pass me. At this point the road started passing through open farm land and past small lakes. Pretty to look at, but not very good at blocking the wind. I spent the next three miles trying not to slow too much, but desperately wishing we were going to turn right. We didn't. We turned slightly to the left--straight into the wind. I now know what it's like to run in a wind tunnel. It was crazy! I felt like the road runner--my legs were moving so fast but I was not moving forward at all. I looked down at my watch: 9:40! ugh. I looked up and realized that it was 2 miles across open land and then it was a mile up hill! double ugh. Luckily for me I saw a guy all decked out in fancy running gear ahead of me. I didn't care how windy it was, I was not going to let some guy in fancy socks finish in front of me. So I ducked my head and slowly made my way through the 2 mile wind tunnel. The hill at mile 10 was a welcome change for me and I thanked the Carrboro forest as I passed several men and got closer and closer to the guy in the fancy socks. Mile 11 was mostly up hill and I just kept focused on those socks. I could see the final right turn ahead and I blew past fancy socks guy (only to hear that he had biked 74 miles from Tupelo to the start of the race that morning). Finally we turned right and had the wind at our backs! I sprinted to the finished and crossed the line in about 1:51. Not a PR, but nothing to turn my nose at.
The real surprise came at the post race ceremony
when I found out I won my age group!
Woo hoo! I'm a champion! My time was over 10 minutes slower than last year's 30-34 year old winner, but I am chalking that up to the wind and still basking in glory. Maybe next year it will be a PR for me.
Phil's race report (ghost written by Sarah): I'm an Ironman with plantar faciaitis. I don't need to train and I'll still kick ass. 'nuff said.
Here we are celebrating our fabulous weekend:
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| Frostbite Half Marathon |
