Trail Half

Ran my first trail half marathon yesterday. I was nervous for it for several days that I couldn't sleep well, just like the two days before my first marathon. Waking up at 5:30am on race day didn't help either, and I was only able to sleep for 2 hours that night. It was weird that I got this nervous for a half marathon, because half was always just a training for me. But it was understandable, maybe because there was no elevation map, and trail is known for having small hills here and there constantly, which I am not good at. It turned out that my nervousness was right. I didn't fully anticipate the difficulty of the trail.

I had a goal of running sub 2 hours which already adjusted for my current condition, but I ended up 25 minutes more. I was not happy with the time but oh well, now I know I have to train harder and do more hill workouts. The first two miles (my approximation) were already just hills. The trail started with a narrow path, and uphill downhill then uphill downhill again. My feet were not used to rough pavements and it took more effort to control the pace going down. So I slowed down my pace in order to preserve energy for later.

The middle miles surprisingly got flat. We were running on a main trail path instead of sidewalks. So I picked up my pace and passed a few people. I was ahead of my group so I led the way. However I got lost and found nowhere to go. There was no one ahead and no one behind. I was scared for one second, then I immediately got mad at myself for not paying enough attention and wasting time. I turned back and ran for some extra distance and finally found the correct way. A small derailment, but life is like this, isn't it? I picked up my pace again, trying to make up the time.

There was only one water station at mile 6.5. It was getting hot and I was getting dehydrated. I was constantly asking myself when I would reach there and started imagining grape juices (my first craving when I first started running cross country in high school). But because I didn't bring my phone and I had no watch, I had no idea what mile I was at but only approximations. To better measure how far I got, I started visualizing me running on the track. The real distance, however, was always farther than the visualized one. I got to the water station with almost 70% of my mental energy for I started seeing stars in my eyes. I chucked several cups of water with an energy gel and resumed.

The scene suddenly got beautiful. A dark blue pond with dried tree branches sticking up. The trail path had crimson leaves layering. There was no one around me and I didn't know why, but a beautiful moment. The rest 6.5 miles I forgot already. I got very tired and I believed my mental energy was fully consumed that my mind started zooming out on itself. I could not recall what memories came into mind and could not remember what the trail looked like, but just that my legs moved and I didn't allow myself to stop. I was getting dehydrated again and hills were coming up along with roots on the ground which almost made me fall a few times. The last miles were really hard that I had to let the idea of running go. It became mechanic.

This was the first time since high school that I ran without music and without knowing how much I ran. I was debating whether I should bring my phone before the race. But it is a trail and there would be birds chirping and brook water flowing. It was too natural to be ruined with distractions. I convinced myself to make the run the most simple, even without GPS. When I was running the middle miles, I had an attempt to measure the distance in order to know. The uncertainty made me question a lot of things but those questions were useless. Uncertainty is the greatest fear, and only experience can help. I didn't have experience running trail so what could I do besides going faster when it was flat and slow when it was not? I could only control my pace and the best strategy was not to predict elevation but to run according to the road situation.

Now when I think back to the race, the strongest image is tree roots on sandy roads. Nothing more. This is the magic of running trail I guess, that pain was more intense while running it, but it didn't necessary lead to the same degree of suffering. It was quite fun to use the body in a different way and in a different environment. And there is no injury! Despite light shin splints on both sides and a little pain of my tendonitis.