At the starting line before the 1/2 marathon

I’m feeling pretty dang sore right now.  Yesterday, I ran the Tybee Island Half Marathon.  It was a wet, cold run but I enjoyed it.  I got a lot of energy from the other runners who were there alongside me, behind me and in front of me.  As we ran a question ran through my head but no satisfying answer would materialize, – why are so many of us (a couple of thousands?) out here running?

As I drove to Tybee Island yesterday morning the rain intensified.  Why am I driving to Tybee Island to run 13.1 miles on this rainy, chilly Saturday morning?  Why am I not in bed catching up on something that I need and crave – SLEEP?!

The drive to Tybee Saturday morning

There are reasons why I run and why I race but to knowingly put myself in discomfort by running in a race early Saturday morning with temperatures hovering in the mid to high fifties with rain pouring down and wind pushing me in different directions is something difficult for me to understand about myself.  Am I insane?  Maybe.  Yikes!  I don’t know if I like the idea that I might be insane but if I am indeed insane then roughly two-thousand other people in the low country are insane as well, since they were out at Tybee Island yesterday morning doing the same thing I was – running.

So, as I ran many thoughts went through my mind such as, why am I doing this, why are there so many crazies like me out here running, are we high, are we gluttons for punishment, should I quit, should we all quit and huddle up at the “World Famous The Breakfast Club” and eat waffles, eggs and drink coffee?  So many questions, so little answers.  I don’t know.  The questions floated in and wafted out as I put one bikila-clad foot in front of another, leaving behind me a wake of miles that slowly added up to 13.1.

Well, this isn’t psycho-analysis time nor a deep philosophical search of the human psyche and why we do what we do, is it?  I know that I love to run.  There is something very special and freeing about slipping on a pair of vff bikilas, strapping on a wrist watch with a stop watch on it and running out my front door, having adventure unfold as I run down one street to another and as asphalt ends and feet greet the uneven terrain of undeveloped earth.  As I run I get captivated and engulfed by the sounds and smells around me.  My mind wanders and ponders.  The birds fly overhead, the squirrels ponder my motives as they dart across the street or trails and scamper up to the safety of trees.  As the miles add up I forget that I’m cutting through time and space before me with a jagged, dull blade.  I am now drifting along with everything else around me.  I am now part of the ambiance of nature, not some pinhead trying to mold the future into my Universe where I am the Center Being.  That, in a nutshell is much of why I run.  The question begs, though, why do I race?  And, why do I race under weather conditions like we had yesterday at Tybee Island for the Tybee Half?  I don’t have an adequate answer for that.

Truth be told, yesterday morning when I looked out the window I wanted to go back to bed but I didn’t.  As I drove to Tybee Island for this race I continually thought of turning around and going back home and, back to bed.  Finding a parking spot on Tybee Island yesterday morning was a big, big pain!  Finding a parking spot near the start line was near impossible.  I had to park about a half mile away from the start line.  Why didn’t I just say, “Screw it!”, and go back home?  The thought came to me quite a few times!  But, I didn’t give in to the thought.  I walked and jogged to the start line with a white plastic bag in my hand holding warm, dry clothes for me for after the race.  I could not find the place where the runner’s white bags were stored.  I asked numerous people and none knew where they went.  My frustration grew and I became easily agitated.  I saw other runners with their bags looking flustered as I did.  Yet, we continued to look for the white plastic bag drop-off.  Finally, a kind soul that works at Fleet Feet told me where to go to drop off my white bag.  I was suddenly happy.  I dropped off my white bag at the white tent by the finish line (duh! how could I have not thought that the bags would be by the finish line??  I’m a big dummy).  I ran to the gathering crowd of runners huddling behind the start line.

I saw some friends in the crowd sharing in the insanity.  I chit-chatted with some people.  We talked weather, some asked about my vff’s.  I looked around and didn’t see many vff’d feet.  The National Anthem was beautifully sang.  The rain kept coming down and people were obviously chilled but there were smiles on their faces.  We, runners are a strange bunch.  The horn blasted, the music blared and, we were off!

It took 44 seconds before I stepped across the start line after the race started.  The crowd moved like a slow-motion unfolding wave.  I wanted to break out, – break free of the wave but the crowd pulled me back in.  It wasn’t until we were approaching the bend where Butler dissolves into highway 80 before I could begin to pull away and chase after the top ten percent of the group.  As I chased after the elusive 10% group my legs felt clunky and wooden.  It would take another five miles before I would become comfortable and found my groove.  The 10% group apparently accepted me but demanded that I keep a particular pace.  I did my best.  And, as I ran alongside runners, passing some up, getting passed by others and, crossing other runners that were about to hit terrain that I had already covered, I saw a familiarity in all of them that I had not noticed before the race – we’re all insane!

No, really we’re not…insane, that is.  We are a breed apart.  Those of us that get up early on a Saturday morning and drive through chilly rain and wind to run a race (5k or 13.1 miles) are truly a breed apart from the rest.  We’re not masochist, we’re just a group of people driven by some internal source that demands that we endure and persevere.  This source demands that we fearlessly search inwardly and confront ourselves and say, we came here to do something, to accomplish a task, a goal and, we will not stop until it is done.  So, nor lack of sleep, nor wind, nor rain, nor annoying traffic, nor frustrating parking situation will prevent us from achieving our goal.  We are here to persevere.  If you do not believe that is true then you are lying to yourself.  You were at Tybee Island yesterday morning for the same reason that I was, – to overcome and achieve.

Every person that takes a good look ahead and then pulls away from their comfort zone understands that achievement is not easy and should not be.  You understand that if you want something you have to work at it and go after it.  You know that you will have many obstacles to overcome (the wind, the rain, the wet clothes, aching muscles, lack of nearby parking)  but that’s the price for achieving.  And, of course, this trait we have is not just limited to runners, its in everyone that stands up to the challenges that are a given in life and, rather than gravitating to a comfortable couch with a built in refrigerator holding our favorite brand of beer we go, and we do.

Yesterday, I had the privilege and honor to run with a crowd of amazing people, – winners everyone of them.  I am so very proud to have been among them.

And, yesterday, I ran my fastest half marathon to date!

I give a big THANK YOU to Critz and Fleet Feet Savannah for putting together a great event.

• Tybee Island Race Results for 1/2 marathon
• Tybee Island Race Results for 5k
• my mapped run

Thanks for stopping by.

All the best to you and yours.

peace,

dh

02/06/2011