And we were off! At the front of the starting line with no other racers in sight, my two brothers, our friend, and I began the Shipyard Old Port Half Marathon in Portland, ME, with a bang! I always wondered what it would feel like to lead a race; I truly never thought it was possible for a runner like me. But the spotlight was all ours as a small number of spectators cheered us on, rather tamely. Come to think of it, why are there so few spectators in the early part of the race? And why aren’t they more excited to cheer on the race leaders? And why are there absolutely no racers behind us? It doesn’t feel like we’re going that fast. Oh yeah, that’s right — we started the race a solid 10 minutes late. We were in last place by about a mile.
Welcome to “Vacationland”
This past weekend I traveled to Maine to run my first half marathon in four years. I had taken a hiatus from half marathons after running several between 2015-2019. In the latter part of 2019, as my mileage increased and my running continued to improve, I shifted my focus to marathons in search of an even greater challenge.
I was reminded of a lesson I learned years ago but clearly had forgotten: never wait until race morning to pick up your bib. Because we were staying with our friend in Harpswell, a good 50-minute drive from Portland, we planned to pick up the bibs the day before the race so as not to be rushed on race morning. Well, as the day got away from us, and the window to pick up the bibs was closing, we decided to save the time and hassle and make just the one drive to Portland on race morning.
Series of unfortunate events
The 4:30 am wake-up call was tough to answer, but we got ready as fast as we could for the trip, with plenty of trips to the bathroom beforehand. Spoiler: there would be more trips. Despite following my five trusted racing tips on race morning, and although we arrived at the bib pickup with some time to spare before the 7:00 am start, a series of unfortunate events prevented us from starting on time with the rest of the more than 2,000 runners.
First off, the bib pickup line was extremely long (total shocker). Not long after we got in line, each of us had to use the restroom at different points, which wouldn’t have been an issue if a couple of us (me included) hadn’t waited until after picking up the bib to develop the urge to go. By the time we finally reached the front of the line, the race volunteers’ printer was malfunctioning. Just as we learned our lesson about bib pickup timing, I hope the race volunteers learned one about bib distribution timing: don’t wait until race morning to print a component of the bib!
Unfortunately, we had parked too far away from the starting line to drop off our complimentary race shirts, so we had to either wear them or toss them. Neither option was desirable, but we decided to don the navy blue long-sleeve. We would quickly overheat just a few miles into the race.
The loneliest race
It’s quite a strange feeling to start a race well after everyone else. You miss the adrenaline rush of hearing the starting gun go off and you miss the sense of community when not surrounded by thousands of other runners. We crossed the starting line so late that it took us quite a while before we saw any racers on the course. We stuck out like a sore big toe, but gracious spectators cheered us on despite us breaking the cardinal rule of racing: be on time.
The plan was for my brothers and me to run the race together at a casual pace of anywhere from 8:30-9:00 min/mile. That plan was quickly thwarted when we found it challenging just to pass others, especially on the narrow trail surrounding Casco Bay. At one point, much to my dismay, some racers came to a complete stop to avoid running over a big puddle, forcing everyone else trailing to stop as well. One thing led to another, and at various points we each got separated and decided to run our own races. The race started off in the Old Port and we made our way around Back Cove.
Running solo with no time goal, no music or podcast, and no company made it difficult to find motivation. With it being a casual run, I chose my beloved Saucony Triumph 20 to race in, but it didn’t take long for me to regret not going with a plated shoe, or even the Brooks Hyperion Max, when I wanted to pick up the pace a bit.
Glass half full
It was my first-ever race in Maine and my first half-marathon in four years, so I was grateful just to be out there running. It sure helped that the weather cooperated, with ideal running temps in the low 50’s. Oh, and it was nice not running an additional 13.1 miles to complete a marathon. Next time I won’t wait so long to do another half marathon.
Although we were late to the race, we showed up early to the Maine Beer Company, just as they were about to open. We may have started at the rear of the racing pack, but we were at the front of the line when it came time to order beers. And we may not have been able to run as a group, but we shared a few drinks together in celebration. Often times, that’s the best part of race weekend, anyway.
