Running half-marathon feels like full-time work

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 21/06/2010 (5606 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

The start

It’s 6:40 a.m, and Manitoba Marathoners are lined up in droves for one last peaceful bathroom break before the race begins.

There is a minor scuffle as an eager runner jumps the line, much to the chagrin of the more patient.

A nervous excitement is in the air, a palpable mixture of giddy energy and gritty determination.

Full marathoners walk among us mere half-marathon mortals, their sinewy limbs and the bright pink lettering in their bibs give them away.

There is a last-minute sprint to the staring line. Elbow to elbow, people pace, stretch, and laugh while the music from Chariots of Fire plays in the background.

The race begins.

 

Mile four

Three relatively uneventful miles lead runners into the mosquito-ridden abyss of Crescent Drive Park. The sound of running shoes pounding pavement is merged with the smacking of hands on bite-riddled arms.

Traffic is still knee-to-knee, elbow-to-elbow, and any veering off pace might get you a sharp jab to the ribs.

In the first few miles everyone is optimistic, high fives are a constant and no one is walking.

 

Mile seven

It would be impossible to count the number of wistful glances as Winnipeggers pass the legendary Bridge Drive Inn.

Crowds of supporters ring their bells, bang on their cowbells, their cameras at the ready.

Runners pass Kingston Crescent’s notorious unofficial beer stop, an annual tradition that has a loyal, if not particularly populous following. Advertised as "the last beer for miles" runners can grab a brew and watch the game on the big screen should they need a quick pick-me-up.

 

Mile nine

Far enough to see the end in sight, but not far enough to feel any sense of relief, Mile Nine can be the razor’s edge between a good and bad run.

On St. Vital Road, the bystanders are particularly loud and raucous. Hoses and sprinklers have been turned on and rejigged to assemble outdoor showers.

A woman holds a sign that reads "You are Awesome," though decidedly many runners are feeling less than awesome at the moment.

 

Mile 11

Otherwise known as the bridge that lasts for an eternity, Mile 11 takes us back to University Drive.

Niggling ankle pains have become full-blown injuries as three runners hobble along the side of the road.

The last two miles stretch out like a interminable concrete wasteland, as the A&W sign mockingly urges you to buy a two-for-one teen burger combo.

 

Mile 12-13 ‘Irv’s Mile’

It’s at this point the diverse scope of the half-marathon runner can fully be gauged. Young, old, large, small, in shape, out of shape… the unique challenge of the half keeps people coming back for more.

Perhaps it’s the somewhat surmountable challenge of a half-marathon, with the daunting full being too big of a pill for some to swallow. Whether it’s an 85-year-old grandmother, or an 11-year-old sixth grader, it seems it’s a challenge that many are willing to face.

 

Finish

As runners approach the finish line music, drumming and the announcer’s booming voice fills the air. Across the finish line, it’s chaos once again.

Empty boxes of chocolate milk and half-eaten bagels litter the rain-soaked grass. Moans of pain are intermingled with relieved laughter.

Friends seek out lost running mates and statements of "I’ll never do that again," pepper their conversation.

Family and friends can do nothing but nod knowingly, with the full knowledge they’ll be back again next year, cheering us on again.

britt.harvey@freepress.mb.ca