I ran the Boston Half Marathon this morning for fun. Does that make me crazy? I wasn't the only bandit -- there were a few others without running numbers.
It was a great training run to get ready for next weekend's half marathon, a little cold at the beginning, but after the first few miles the sun came out and it felt nice. I told myself in advance that I'd take it easy and not run too hard. Problem is, I don't like not going all out. So I started out at a nice pace. First few mile splits were 10:45, 10:15, 10:30, 10:00, and I settled into a pace of about 10:10 per mile. Then at the half-way point, I felt like going faster. Mile splits were between 9:45 and 10:00. And toward the end, my last two miles were in 9:15.
I finished in 2:11:59. My goal for next weekend is 2:10, on a far more flat course. I can definitely do this! I think I should start the race a little faster too. I bet I could have saved myself a couple seconds if I hadn't high-fived a few little kids on the side of the road or hopscotched through the decorations drawn by the Hash House Harriers, but what fun is that?
I was a good bandit too, but perhaps I shouldn't have worn BRIGHT PINK if I didn't want to stand out. Fortunately no race official seemed to care about my lack of a race number. I did not take any water or Gatorade from the aid stations, did not take a medal or any post race goodies, BUT I did take a Power Gel. They're hard to resist.
One thing I've learned about running at my appropriate pace (as opposed to going too hard at the beginning): I pass a lot of people in the last half of the race, which is a good feeling. Even though I'm only competing with myself, it still feels good.