DNF at the Nature Valley Run

I was totally unprepared for the Nature Valley 21k Run.  For one, since I got back from Milwaukee a couple of weeks ago, it seems that I haven't been the same insofar as running is concerned.  I have been feeling a bit lethargic, and my endurance the past couple of weeks has been iffy at best. As a result, all the training runs I have done since I got back have all been absolute crap. 

As if those weren't enough, what made matters worse was the fact that I was down with the flu for most of last week.  It was so bad that I actually missed three days of work, from Tuesday to Thursday.  I never ran a single kilometer during the entire week prior to the Nature Valley Run, and my last runs were a 20k last Saturday and a 5k last Sunday.

Given that my last two weeks have been utterly useless, up until last night, I was seriously considering not doing Nature Valley.  But then, I decided to run anyway because I was thinking that perhaps a race would be able to "fix" me and do me some good.

And so, I showed up at the starting line.  I warmed up pretty good, too.  I arrived in BHS more a full hour before the 5:10 a.m. gun start  because I was concerned that I had been runless for six full days. I knew I had to shake off a lot of rust or else I might get injured.

I surprisingly opened the race strong (at least by my humble standards), and my splits for the first 10k gave my confidence a much-needed boost: 5:40, 5:56, 5:58, 6:01, 5:59, 6:09, 5:48, 5:55, 7:12, and 6:05.  Despite my condition, I almost pulled off a sub-60 10k - 1:00:45 to be precise.  Not Haile, but not bad at all, considering that I was doing Galloway at a 6:1 ratio.  Up until this point, I was entertaining thoughts of topping my 21k PR of 2:09. 

Little did I know that a new PR was wishful thinking on my part.  As soon as I opened Km 11, it felt as if someone pulled the plug and sapped all of my energy.  At Km 13, I seriously considered quitting.  It started to feel as if my decision to go ahead and do the run was a bad one after all, and I was telling myself that I should just stop, take off my bib, and call it a day.  I was that close to logging my first official DNF.

You want to know what kept me going, though? Believe it or not, it was none other than... the medal.  I am a huge sucker for Finisher's Medals, and I so badly wanted to get another one.  I'd get one anyway even if I ended up walking the rest of the way, so what the hell?

My pace during the rest of the way was very erratic.  I resorted to an extremely irregular run-walk pattern, and I was no longer targeting a particular finish time.  I just wanted to finish, get the damn medal, go home, and go back to sleep.  My splits for the last 11 kilometers were totally unspectacular: 6:44, 7:12, 7:13, 7:05, 7:33, 7:50, 7:27, 7:12, 7:26, 7:10, and 7:15. The last time I struggled this badly during a race was at 2009's Timex Run 21k, which I ran a few hours after a friend's stag party.

I finished the half-marathon in 2:21:38 (Garmin time), with an average pace of 6:42/k.  Very pedestrian even by my recreational standards, given that my last three half-marys were a 2:14 (Century), 2:09 (Unilab), and another 2:14 (Globe). I don't feel bad at all, though.  As a matter fact, as I crossed the finish line, I felt a different kind of contentment. I did get another big, shiny Finisher's Medal.  More importantly though, twice did I come close to giving up on the race, and twice I resisted the temptation.  Instead of logging my first official DNF, Did Not Finish, I ended up registering MY very own version of a DNF: DID NOT FOLD.