The Colchester Half Marathon is one of my favorite races. In 2014 it was the first race where I got a glimpse of how I might be able to run faster, better, freer. I also love the vibe of the race, extremely low key, but with professional timing and an amazing feast afterwards. If you’re going to run this race, you have to train through the winter so it attracts a fast field of serious runners. The race director is another highlight – he’s somehow everywhere before, during, and after the race, cheering for every runner.
I had never had a bad race here until 2021. Amid a spring of shitty racing, Colchester stands out as especially awful. I was somewhat undertrained for a half marathon, but didn’t let that dissuade me from going out much too quickly. I ran the first 6 miles fueled by fury about the pandemic and then trudged home the rest of the way, saved only by the presence of Pokey, who kept me from collapsing in a pile of tears by the side of the road. Dramatic much? Yeah, but that is definitely how Colchester 2021 felt.
One of my main goals in 2023 was to execute better than I did in 2021. Setting the bar low. But in 2021, I had vowed to come back to Colchester and run under 1:50, something I have never done on this course. That vow was in my mind as I contemplated the race and knew I was nowhere close to sub-1:50 shape, not on an easy course and especially not on the hills of Colchester. Then the weather forecast rolled in: 20 degrees, though at least not windy. Ugh. That is chilly for an easy six miles, damn cold for a long run and freaking freezing for racing a half marathon. Plus it brought back the specter of last fall’s Philadelphia marathon, when a race in similar temperatures landed me in the emergency room. Sure, I could run the Refugees 5K in New Haven in decent weather and stay out of the medical tent. What about a half marathon on hills and in the cold? Doubt started to creep in. The week leading up to the race was filled with anxiety about medical stuff even before I layered the race on top of it.
A conversation with Coach Mick helped turn things around. He reminded me that progress isn’t linear. I know that. But I definitely had it in my head that I wanted Colchester to be faster than the half marathons I ran last fall and I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be. Coach Mick also said, progress is never linear and with your medical issues, it’s going to be less linear, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t progress. That was a good insight. He also reminded me that I had battled serious plantar fasciitis not once, but twice. I had been super persistent, not just about stretching and proper shoes and all that, but about researching solutions and staying patient. It was hard and I was scared a lot, but ultimately, the plantar fasciitis went away. Mostly he reassured me that even if I don’t have a perfect solution to the hypoparathyroidism right now, I’m really persistent and good at figuring out solutions. That was just what I needed to hear.
I got up early on Saturday and got myself ready. Out the door around 8:20 for a 9am arrival. That turned out to be right in the nick of time. No waiting for bibs and bathroom for me but a big line by the time I was done. It was really cold. The temperature had “risen” to just about 20 degrees for start time. I had to laugh when I re-read all my other race reports about Colchester “It’s going to be chilly, right around 35 degrees.” Hahahaha. At the last minute, I swapped out my fleece shirt for a tech shirt, but otherwise I wore Sugoi tights, Darn Tough socks, Nike Next %2’s, my Kari Traa jacket, gloves (with Hot Hands), my standard pink hat. I was not at all overdressed though I am glad I ditched the fleece shirt. My core was warm enough, but my legs and feet never really warmed up. My index fingers were totally numb by the end of the race. We are having one of the mildest winters on record, but I am book-ending it with the coldest marathon I’ve ever run (or hope to run!) in November and now the coldest half marathon I’ve ever run in February. New goal: Run a race in which the water at the aid stations does not freeze.
Race morning I had my usual oatmeal portion plus a banana plus my Zipfizz plus a cup of coffee. Here’s how I handled the rest of fueling. I brought a banana with me in case I was hungry when I got to the race, but I wasn’t. I had a Tums just before heading out to warm up. During the race I had a Tums and a gel at about 4 miles and about 9 miles. I ended up having one Gu and one Maurten because that’s what I had on hand, but that also worked fine. Fine tuning on gels isn’t going to be an issue for me right now as long as I get the calcium stuff right. I had a Tums when I finished also, so 4 Tums total. I had no cramping or tingles during the race. My legs started to feel stiff by the last few miles, but I was running a hilly half marathon in 20 degree temperatures. A little muscle stiffness is to be expected. Given the moaning and groaning in the bathroom among women changing clothes post-race, I was not alone in feeling some stiff muscles!
I saw a lot of friends before the start, but only Pokey wanted to warm up. We jogged out along the course. By the time we got back, there were only about 5 minutes until the start. I had planned to do some drills, but it was so cold that I just did some strides and called it good. I lost track of Pokey but found some other friends to stand near. They blew the horn and off we went!
This race starts uphill just to make things more interesting. I was determined not to go out too fast. But just about half a mile in, I noticed my shoe lace was untied! Rookie error! I didn’t double knot them when I put them on, thinking I would do it when I got to the race. I imagined trying to run 12.5 miles on hills with a shoe untied, but I knew I had to stop. I pulled over to the side, took my gloves off, double-knotted both shoes, and started up again. Somehow I didn’t let this throw me off mentally. I briefly thought, well, if that incident means I don’t break 2 hours, that’s a bummer, but it is what it is. I’m not starting too fast now that’s for sure.
I settled in to what felt like an appropriate effort. Coach Maverick still has me running entirely by feel so I didn’t look at my watch at all during the race. It’s a strange feeling to pick an effort so early in a long race and just commit to it. What if I’m too fast? What if I’m too slow? But, since I am not at all sure what paces would correspond to “too fast” or “too slow” at the moment, it sort of doesn’t matter. It *might* even be that cueing off my body’s effort is the is going to give me the best result anyway. It takes a certain amount of courage to race this way without any clue of how things are going time-wise, but it also takes away the stress of looking at the watch and trying to adjust. I ran a steady effort, which is probably the best approach for a hilly course anyway.
As I crested the first major hill at mile three, I started to have flashbacks to all the other years I’ve run this race, but especially that 2021 version with Pokey. I knew by the end of the third mile in 2021 that I was going to have a rough day and I urged Pokey to leave me, but she refused. Today I just felt surrounded by her spirit, a good friend I have shared a lot of miles with. Someone who has seen me despairing and stayed with me.
I have a lot of thoughts about this picture from the end of the race. But mostly that I’m still kind of smiling. Still loving this even when it’s hard.
That feeling continued throughout the race. I was running in 2023, but I was also running in 2014, when I felt so strong and free. I was running in 2016, learning how to pace a hilly race. I was running in 2019, joyfully training for my first Boston. Mostly I remembered the fury I ran with in 2021. I remembered how happy and sad I was that the race director was giving out socially distanced high fives with a big hand on a stick. I thought I had let those emotions go, but as I ran the course, I released them even more. It felt good to turn them into just one more layer of experience at Colchester instead of the dominant memory of the race. It was a little bit like running out of the pandemic and that felt really good.
I was feeling pretty good in general. Not the somewhat-too-happy feeling of the Run for Refugees 5K. More the focused-and-working feeling that I would want to feel during a half marathon. I could tell I wasn’t ready to go out on a limb, to risk so much effort early that I might fade hard later. I do think that’s probably part of running a really fast-for-me half marathon but this was still too soon in the recovery process for a big risk.
Sometimes I can connect with God when I’m racing. In Chariots of Fire, Eric Liddel says “When I run, I feel His pleasure.” That’s a marvelous feeling. Somehow the suffering of racing can make us feel so alive – that is one of the main reasons I race. I know it sounds a little crazy but I could feel God’s presence in Colchester. The course has two huge hills, at mile 6 and mile 9. I ran up both of them. It was hard, but I didn’t feel like I wanted to stop. Instead, I felt so grateful for the strength to keep going. I thought a lot about Rose and about not being afraid. It sounds like a lot of thinking but my brain didn’t feel busy. I ran with my memories of the race in previous years, I worked hard, I felt God, I thought about Rose. From mile three to mile 11.
At mile 11, the course makes a right turn and you run two miles up a gradual hill with the road unrolling in front of you for most of the way. This is where I nearly stopped and cried in 2021. This year, though, I discovered I had gas in the tank and decided to use it. I started to pass people, creeping my way up in the field. The end of this race is really tough, but I counted and ran hard and passed as many people as I could. Strava tells me it was my second fastest time on these last two miles!
I finished the race, bent over a table and looked at my watch. It said 2:01. Ok, so no sub-2 finish, but a really good race execution. The best executed half marathon since surgery and really the best in quite awhile. Then I saw the clock, which read 1:58. Huh? I asked someone if the clock was correct? Yes it was – my watch had been on laps and my last lap was 2:01. Overall time 1:58:28! My second slowest Colchester, but with 45 seconds for tying my shoe and in 20 degree weather.
Bernie was at the finish line, having had an excellent race! The weather was getting worse with snow starting to fall and the wind picking up a bit so I headed inside.
I changed clothes with the other moaning and groaning women in the bathroom. Then we all descended on the high school cafeteria for the massive post-race carbo-re-loading. Lasagna, shepherd’s pie, chili, mac and cheese, ice cream, corn bread. Even some green beans if you’re feeling the need for some vegetables. Most of all the chance to hang out with old friends and meet some new ones, while everyone shares their tales of the race. This was another step toward recovery. A really good day.
