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Athens Half Marathon

March 17, 2019 (Morning)

Exercise Type: Run

Comments:
This wasn't exactly the race of my dreams, but I'm glad I came. Running in Athens is pretty special. I didn't get quite as much sleep as I'd planned the last 2 nights - probably 6 hours Saturday plus an hour on the plane and then 8 hours last night till I was woken up by church bells shortly after 7am. Staying at an airbnb a mile from the start line was an excellent choice. I didn't need to worry about storing my warm-up clothes anywhere (actually, it was so warm that wouldn't have been an issue) and was able to roll out of bed literally 30 minutes before race time. My glute was feeling about 50% better thank God and the rest of my body felt light and limber. I was placed in corral #2 behind a couple of hundred people, which seemed unusually far back given that there were only a few thousand people in the race, but I figured there must simply be a lot of really fast Greeks.

As soon as the race started, I realized two things: 1) I had started too far back and 2) I really needed a new pair of shoes. I immediately found myself passing tons of people even as the first 50-100 runners pulled hopelessly out of reach. Next time I should trust my instincts or check the times from last year to see where I should place myself (they hadn't physically separated the corrals so I easily could have made my way up into the first group before the gun went off). At the same time, I found my shins hurting for the first time all season. Not a bone sort of hurt but that feeling when the muscles to the outside of the shin bones feel like they're getting cramped and mashed down. I knew from experience this sort of thing might pass after 6 miles or so as in did in my very first half marathon in DC 9 years ago, but I also knew that it might not let up at all, as had been the case when I ran the Detroit Marathon in 2013. I told myself it would be the former and hoped for the best. Over the first 7 kilometers, I continued to stay calm and gradually move up through the ranks, quite different from my race in Split last month where I was getting passed during this section. There really was not one around my speed to keep up with. The weather was perfect - sunny, low-60s, about half the course in the shade, and the course was clean and well organized. I made a point of admiring the Neoclassical architecture of the city's 19th and early 20th century institutions: museums and concert halls and academies built in the style of Ancient Greeks. I somehow missed the 5k sign but around 7k I decided I need to pick up the pace. This coincided with a gradual 2-mile uphill rolling into a gradual 2 mile downhill, so though I picked up my speed my breathing actually got easier. One guy caught me toward the end of this section, though I could hear him coming and made a point of holding him off till I'd caught to woman in front of me. We then turned onto what I presumed was a rather pointless out and backstretch, but when we reached the U-turn I saw why the race organizers had worked it in: for the first time all race we had a magnificent head-on view of the Acropolis. How could you possibly have a race in Athens without this? I came through the 10k mark in 39:45 and much to my dismay realized I would have to run nearly a 10k PR if I wanted to break an hour twenty. Dang it, I thought to myself, here I'd been telling myself that I was impossible to go out too slow in this long a race cause there'd always be more time to make it up.

At this point, I really turned on the gas and started passing people much more rapidly. As we rounded Hadrian's Arch, I pictured myself as an ancient Greek athlete like Phiddipes, the legendary message whose journey from Marathon to Athens to report the Athenian victory inspired the modern day marathon race and by extension this race as well. I told myself I should be gallant, to keep my back straight and run with pride. As we turned into the long gradual uphill, repeating the 6-mile loop we'd initially done, I began singing "The Mountains" my school song from Williams, and telling myself that after all these months of training on hilly Sarajevo this section was giving me a competitive advantage. At last, I caught the guy who'd passed me on the long downhill 5 miles back, the only person to catch me after the first third of the race. I made a point of passing him decisively with a sustained burst that I never consciously let up, never giving him hope that he could hang.

We turned once more onto the long downhill and I raced after three people up ahead two men whom I caught fairly easily and a woman who stayed ahead of me until the very bottom and gave me quite a fight. I knew coming down I had less than 2 1/2 miles left and that I needed to really work to keep myself in a place where I was breathing hard and not just coasting. Downhills mid-race let you catch your breath but with so little distance to go, I knew I had to make it feel hard. It began to feel like this downhill would never end and I found myself improbably longing for a challenging uphill where I wouldn't need to such conscious effort every moment to keep my pace difficult. This came of course with a kilometer to go and I told myself, again and again, I had to hold off the woman I'd passed who was sticking fairly close behind me. I told myself that regardless of how slow or fast my time was today I was going to let my inner loser triumph. By that I mean I wasn't gonna mentally sell myself out and compromise as I have a tendency to do, telling myself it was not my day or it was okay to let this person win. I was gonna beat her damn it, I was going to COMPETE. Uphead another woman and ran seemed almost within reach. The man started walking so I didn't worry about him but the woman seemed to be picking up the pace. I passed the Museum where I'd noted at the start of the race I'd have only 600m or so to go. Time to quit holding back. I passed that woman decisively, as well as the man, and then without no one left to chase after (the rest had finished or were out of sight) I had turned on the afterburners determined to keep that young woman from regaining the lead. We crested the half-mile long hill and I the finish line swung into reach. The clock already said 1:21. Well, I thought, I've got to at least not be slower than last month. I got up on my toes and put on a full sprint as best I could or at least something close to it. I came across the line 1:21:33, a mere 12 seconds faster than last month, and within about 30 seconds felt totally fine. Well, I figured, that's what you get for not going harder in the first half. You're not as tired as you could be and your time, while an improvement, isn't exactly the sort of breakthrough you were hoping for.

After walking for 15 minutes and eating the banana and chocolate they'd handed us at the finish, I coaxed my legs into a light jog, culminating at a rocky outcrop with beautiful view of the city. I realized at the point that my shin had indeed stopped hurting about 6 miles into the race as I'd predicted and that my tight glute which had me so worried the past few days was only just now returned. Well, I figured, I'm allowed to disappointed. That's healthy. Not to hold yourself to an unreasonable standard and always be let down, but from time to time recognize that you weren't where you wanted to be. A 12-second improvement in this is like a 1-second improvement in the mile: kinda like a silver medal. Yes, you improved, but given how hard you've been worked you have reason to expect something more. Still, from a training perspective, it's good that I didn't go all out since I still have the Boston Marathon in a month. Also, I did when it comes down to it really enjoy being in a race and completing, trying to gauge my energy level, sustain a good effort, and pass people, all amidst one of the most spectcular cities on earth. Plus I hit my mileage goal of 80+ for yet a 3rd week in a row. Now time for a day off!