Half ... Fast! Or Half-Assed?

I considered so many titles for this post. Among the contenders:

A Bad Day to Have a Bad Day
A Beautiful Day for a Jog
Here's My List of Excuses Justifications
The Training 101 Lesson I Forgot
Get Over Yourself
13.1 is 13.1, No Matter How You Look At It

I waited until today to write this, hoping something poetic would come over me and I could find a way to put into words what I was feeling about my run yesterday.

The day had a beautiful and promising start. They all do, right? 

Since divine intervention has not come, I'm just going to give you a quick rundown of the facts first:

1. The weather was picture perfect. Sunny enough. Cool enough. Breezy enough but not too much.
2. The course was really wonderful ... we ran along the lake for much of the time. And when we weren't in the park alongside the lake, we were in some truly beautiful neighborhoods of Kenosha with grand, old-money homes or on the charming streets of the historic downtown. It was also very flat with just a couple of low rolls. 
3. The race was really well-organized for such a big event ... 4000 runners. Parking was a little complicated, but that's to be expected with such a big group. 
4. I started strong ... maybe too fast. The first 5 miles flew by. Note to self: Buy a running watch.
5. My most important muscle started giving me trouble at Mile 6. My brain, that is. My hips started hurting around Mile 10. 
6. I stopped to pee, which I've never done in a race before. Not once. Not twice. Not three times. No, I had to pee FOUR times on the course. Or thought I did. 
7. I walked all of Mile 11. I walked because I had to pee so badly that I was afraid to run. And when I got to the port-a-potty at Mile 12 (which was out of hand sanitizer by the way), essentially nothing happened. I couldn't go. The only water I was making, so to speak, were a few frustrated tears. 
8. I had another thee-quarters of a mile of walking throughout miles 6-11, too. 
9. I was beyond pissed off at myself for apparently not training right. 
10. I finished 27 seconds ahead of my "if you go over this time, you have failed miserably" time at 2:29:33. That's 20 minutes behind my first half and a whopping 6 minutes ahead of my half walk/half run effort in 2013. 

I'm struggling with how to process this. The day didn't go like I wanted it to and I finished about 15 full minutes behind where I thought I would. I'm mad at myself for letting my head get in my way. I am disappointed that I put all that time in to train, but didn't do it right. So was it a waste of time altogether?

It sucks to be disappointed in yourself.

On the other hand, I had a bad day. Bad days happen. I still finished 13.1 miles and that's nothing to sneeze at. The real lesson in this is what I do from this point. Where do I go from here? I can feel sorry for myself or I can chalk it up as experience and move on. I know now how important training my brain is. I also know now that I can't, apparently, train only on a treadmill for a big event.

Maybe that's the lesson I'm supposed to take from this. The lesson of how to NOT let my finish time or the walking get to me. The lesson of how to find my mental toughness again and keep going.

Because the funny thing is that never once on the course did I feel like I wouldn't finish. Never once did I doubt crossing that line. In fact, at the turnaround point for the Half, where the Full marathoners kept going straight, I had the thought that I knew I could walk another 13 if I really wanted to.

I'm stiff today. (More proof that I didn't train right.) But I'm feeling better about it all. Part of me is eyeing up future races because I want to prove to myself that this was a fluke.

So, this story might not be over yet.

I think this might be me. Or at least it's the me I want to be.
Standing tall. Strong. Ready to take on whatever the day brings.
(The park where the race started/finished was full of interesting art.)