Mini finish only the beginning

Mentally and physically I was prepared.

I had a plan I was going to follow that I was sure would help me reach both of my goals.

Rain began to sprinkle from the sky through the 44-degree air.

I opted at the last minute to ditch a jacket, instead deciding leggings, shorts, a long sleeve shirt, T-shirt and ball cap would be sufficient attire for the next three hours.

I joined the thousands of runners who were herded like cattle between steel barriers with banners indicating the start of each of the five waves, with letters representing “corrals” within each wave.

I made my way to Wave 4 in Corral Q, trying my best to be near the front and not have to fight too much with any runners ahead of me that might be a little slower than my intended pace.

We started to make our way forward toward the starting line, with an approximate start time of 8 a.m. With each step, my anxiousness to run was subdued. The wind was gusting and at that moment I regretted my earlier decision to run without a jacket.

Wave 4 approached the starting line. The IndyCar zoomed west on Washington Street in the Wholesale District of Indianapolis. With the official time above my head, the emcee began to count down from 10 to signify the start of the race.

As I began the race, I left my strategy in the starting corral.



Goodbye strategy

A couple weeks ago when I ran the 10.8 miles to Fort Recovery, I had a solid plan of running 2 miles then walking for a quarter mile. It was designed to help conserve energy, because a week prior when I ran 10 miles through Portland I was completely out of gas for the final mile.

For the Indy Mini on Saturday I had hoped to run 2.5 miles before walking the quarter mile.

I never got into the routine.

I blew past 2.5 miles and reached the 3-mile mark before I took my first break. I walked for one-tenth of a mile, then ran for almost another 2.5 miles, which included going through downtown Speedway.

I slowed up again on W. 16th Street just before entering Indianapolis Motor Speedway. The second half of the sixth mile included the ramp under the race track. The hardest part was by far the decline, as my quads were burning from the relatively steep slope. The incline into the speedway, however, was much more gradual and easier than expected.

Since I had ditched my plan to help keep my pace, my next goal was to run the entirety of the lap around the race track. I got just past Turn 3 and began to make my way down the front straightaway when I had to resort to walking for a brief moment.

I didn’t want to kiss the bricks — only winners of an auto race there should do it — but as I reached the Yard of Bricks, that plan, like my initial race strategy, went goodbye. I got down on one knee, kissed the bricks, then made my way to Turn 3 past a host of cheerleaders and then through Turn 4 and out the track.



Three to go

After exiting IMS, the course directed us south on Olin Avenue toward 10th street.

It was at this point I put my focus on what I had in front of me, rather than what I had already completed. I hit the 10-mile mark shortly after reaching 10th street, and it was this nearly 2-mile stretch east that was the hardest.

My breaks became more frequent, which took its toll mentally because I wanted to keep going. Pain was shooting through my legs, first in my calves, up to my thighs and hips.

But I needed to keep going. I was “almost there,” as spectators kept reminding us.

The finish line just seemed too far away.

I turned east on New York Street and crossed the bridge to begin the final straightaway.

With less than a mile to the finish, I tried my hardest to run the rest of the way, but twice my legs wouldn’t allow me to do so. Once I noticed the number of spectators start to increase I knew the end was near, and as I could begin to see the finish line I kicked in another gear and finished strong.



Finally done

A number of things were going through my head when I crossed the finish line 2 hours, 34 minutes, 43 seconds, after I started.

Where’s the water? Where can I sit down? What have I just done?

The last question stuck with me the most.

What did I just do?

I completed a half marathon. I went 13.1 miles, which was nothing but a dream 13 months ago.

But it’s finally done.

And I have a host of people to thank for helping me get there.

Donald, for always being up for a conversation about running, and for taking the time to find me on my run to Fort Recovery to offer words of encouragement.

Denice, Caleb, Bruce and Debbie, for giving input as to what to expect on race day.

Chrissy, for tending to all my little aches and pains along the way, including a knee scare a couple months ago.

Aubree, for running alongside me in October and coaching me through the longer distances. Your expertise has been the most help, and I’m not sure how to repay you.

To everyone else who has honked or waved as they saw me running through Portland; to those I’ve ran alongside in the Run Jay County 5K Circuit; to family, friends and complete strangers who have given me well wishes along my journey of completing 13.1 miles in Indianapolis, thank you.

Each and every one of you were with me on Saturday; at the start when it was easy, at IMS when it seemed to take forever and in the final mile when I needed the most help.

Thank you.

Let’s do it again next year.