I think by now you know I somehow weave my dad into most of what I write about. That’s how badly his passing affects me.
He left behind the most constant noise in my data.
I typically don’t like to do hard things, especially if they’re physical. I don’t even like DIYs. But when my dad passed, it was hard. And, in a way of processing grief, I started running.
Last year, I saw a Cyber Monday sale for a half-marathon and bought an entry.
I didn’t even think I’d run it; I bought insurance just in case I don’t run it, but on March 1st, I attempted and succeeded in turning that noise into something.
A half-marathon.
Let’s talk numbers, as we always do here.
A half marathon is 13.1 miles. I have run 9 miles and 10 miles before, couple of 8-milers too, but I am not a fast runner.
My typical training pace after a year, while managing osteoporosis, is a conversational pace (11-12 min/mile).
The cut-off for the half was 4 hours. And I wanted to finish well before that time. And uninjured.
My target pace:
I was afraid of one thing only. Not finishing. I wasn’t competing for anything; I wasn’t there to qualify for Boston marathon or even chase negative splits.
I had watched so many videos and read about people who didn’t finish or got pulled off the course. That was my only fear. I just wanted to finish.
Because of my osteoarthritis, running continuously is a high-risk strategy that leads to pain/injury around Mile 6.
My mental strategy was to just run 1 mile 13 times, and the goal was to finish the race without being pulled off.
In training, i would run at least 3 miles and stop for a break, and i didn’t want to do this for the marathon. If not, i’d never finish the race.
I met a really kind lady at the starting mark, and we joked about missing our keys and running another 13.1 miles to find them, and how that would be a full marathon.
I ran for 5 mins and walked for 1 minute to sustain myself till the end.
So this was kind of my mental model and a solid playlist:
- Mile 1-4: start slow, don’t let excitement or adrenaline cause you to go fast. Save it for mile 10. If there were a placard in my hands, it would say “suppress the urge to sprint”. I was also very anxious during these miles.
- Miles 5-9: find a rhythm. Maintain the run/walk intervals strictly and DON’T skip any walk breaks.
- Mile 11-12: it’s gonna get rough, take smaller steps, remember your first 5k, you’ve done this dozens of times, do it again today.
- Mile 13: when you see the finish line, forget the pace, ignore your legs, even when your head says “stop,” please don’t stop. Soak in the crowd. You’re a half marathon runner now. Grieve all you want.
-------------------------------------------------------
MY PREDICTIVE FINISH TIME MODEL
-------------------------------------------------------
Current pace (12:00/mile) ████████████████ (SAFE)
Goal Pace (14:30/mile) ██████████████ (GOAL: 10:30 AM)
Cutoff Pace (19:00/mile) ████████ (DANGER ZONE)
-------------------------------------------------------
Margin of error: ~45 minutes
-------------------------------------------------------
WHAT I DIDN’T PREDICT
In data science, if you have enough data, you can predict the outcome. I realized after mile 4 that I had not predicted the HILLS and my own mind.
But I also didn’t predict the joy. At Mile 2, there was an Indian band playing fast-paced songs, and for a moment, I did a twirl, ‘cause why not? Part of my plan was to have fun. Well, at least for the first few miles.
At mile 7, some really sweet ladies adjusted my vest because they were worried I would chafe. In the excitement of running, I forgot my chafing cream, and if not for their kindness and observation, I would be treating more than shin splits now.
There were so many good and funny signs, and I wish I could add all of them here, but some of my favorites were: “don’t trust that fart”, “you run better than the government”, “Raised by immigrants”, “you PAID to do this”, “This is unnecessary, just use Ozempic”.
It was a good political moment with some good laughs.
My favorite signs were the ones my husband made. When he sent me the photos, I just knew I had to finish this race and go pinch his cheeks or something.
My father was a very steady man. He didn’t rush to do anything. He didn’t follow trends. Got his ICAN when he felt he was ready to become a chartered accountant, and went through life till death stopped him.
Why am I saying this? 12:00/mile is an inheritance. I have tried to run faster - the fastest I did was 9:00/mile — and I still wasn’t happy with myself.
I wasn’t prepared for the hills. Nothing prepared me for those hills. I used to train with hills, but this course was different.
Despite my steady pace, I ran my fastest 10k during the race, but at mile 10, I hit the wall.
And for a brief moment, I passed out.
The wall is when a runner’s body runs out of its main source of fuel and there’s a drop in energy and pace.
Your feet feel heavy, like you’re running in mud. It usually happens in a marathon, but it can happen in a half, and even though our coach said it’s psychological, my legs felt twice as heavy, and it felt like i was wading through mud.
That’s the last thing i remember, for at least 5 minutes.
Honestly, i didn’t think of pulling out, I just wanted to finish. I wasn’t scared anymore, just unaware. I didn’t know I was in pain till I crossed the finish line.
I wanted to cross the finish line at 10:53AM but at mile 13, I had the worst shin split. You can see me just stop moving in the picture. haha.
For 3 mins, I stood there. My right leg could move, but my left was cooked. The crowd was shouting and yelling but I didn’t hear a sound. Then all of a sudden, just like it came, it left.
I think seeing my husband made the tears give way. I cried a lot while I ran, but the run became tough and I had to power through. So, when the medal was hung around my neck, I simply just cried from relief and exhaustion.
I’m not sure how proud I’m allowed to feel about this race. Yes, it’s my first half, and I trained so hard for this day. All the training took a physical toll on me, but I’m sharing this because for the first time in my life…
I AM 1% OF SOMETHING.
And I hope my dad, whose steps I could only try to walk in, is proud of me.
I engraved some names of family on my nails for the race - something to look down at, to take my mind off the race and make me smile.
I’d like to think it worked.
13.1 miles. Half-marathon. Model was right.
🔗 Biz and whimsy: https://linktr.ee/amyusifoh
🔗 Free design toolkit: dashboard design toolkit
Data Scientist⬩ Spreadsheet advocate ⬩ Freelancer ⬩
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.