What Happened When I Kicked It Up A Notch
3 lessons learned from racing
I jogged to the meeting point to warm up as well as to calm my nerves. Unfortunately, the 20-min jog did little to take the edge off, my pulse still beat rapidly, my shoulders still felt tense, and I had to consciously remind myself to breathe slow, deep breaths. When I had signed up for this race a month earlier, I had fooled myself into thinking I just wanted to check it out — no pressure. At the start line however, as I anxiously debated over which pace group to slot myself in, I wished I had put more thought into it. Truth be told, I found myself at the Run 10 Feed 10 race to see how I would compete, which meant I really wanted to see how I would perform — under pressure.
I had been running consistently every week for more than a year, logging over 5 miles for my long runs, and if I had been honest with myself sooner, I would have admitted that I signed up for the 10km (6.2mi) race because I wanted to take my running to the next level. I wanted to kick it up a notch. That first race experience surprised me so intensely that I’d like to share 3 key lessons I still reflect on, over a year and several races later.
Lesson #1: Enjoy the view—It’s a welcome distraction
The course had 3 memorable hills: the first within 200m of the start line, the second, the long gradual incline of the Golden Gate Bridge, and the final, the bridge again on the return. Starting the race with a hill immediately separated seasoned runners from the pack. I found myself passing walkers, slower runners, and large swaths of people. I was cruising! And I kept on cruising, easily passing people for the first mile and a half.
Then, within view of the top of the bridge, running started to feel hard. My legs weighed heavily, but I continued to trudge forward wishing for each step to be the one that carried me over the summit. I began losing steam quickly. Someone passed me. I felt a sting of disappointment. Then a second person passed me and I began to question whether or not I’d even finish. Each step required so much effort. I started to feel discouraged and to no longer enjoy the run, which made me realize I needed to completely reframe my thoughts if I wanted to continue my running habit after today.
A third person passed me as I pulled into the water station, the turnaround point of the race. Walking the length of the table, I gulped down water, slowed my breathing, and reframed my thoughts. Then I turned around and started to run back. At least a dozen more people passed me but I no longer judged myself. Determined to conquer my mind and vanquish those defeatist thoughts of doubt and uncertainty, I distracted my mind with the postcard view before me, the cityscape of San Francisco in the distance. I reflected with appreciation on the amazing backdrop for my first race—the deep blue rolling waters of the Pacific Ocean, the bright green hills of the Marin Headlands, and the striking red towers of the Golden Gate Bridge — the views along the entire course were astonishingly breathtaking. I soaked it all in.
To get out of my head, I simply enjoyed the view.
As I continued to put one foot in front of the other, I absorbed every detail of every scene, and with each step, I savored the moment — a morning run through one of nature’s finest paintings.
Lesson #2: Learn to pace—It’s a game changer
One particular runner in this race left a lasting impression on me. I first noticed her as we started the climb on the bridge. She appeared decades older with a full head of white hair and strong. I had just caught up to her, a good mile into the race. I had always assumed I would only run for awhile, switching to cycling or swimming or some other low-impact sport when the time came. But then I saw her — a role model of senior citizenry — not only running but running 10km at a fast pace. She definitely stood out from the crowd. I passed her but I instantly wanted to be like her.
Then, after petering out as I crossed the bridge and struggling on the return, as if life really wanted to impress humility upon me, she passed me with 2 miles left in the race. I laughed. She looked energized. She still had wind in her sails. She still ran strong. I shook my head in both disbelief and understanding. She paced me now (though she had no idea). I kept my eyes on her for as long as she remained in view.
I hadn’t paced myself for the distance. I came out of the gate blazing and crushed that first hill but then ran out of steam halfway through the race.
I made an obvious novice mistake and this seasoned runner just schooled me without ever uttering a word. I needed to learn how to conserve energy in the beginning of a race, sustain my efforts throughout the duration of the course, and then finish with a strong flair. I clearly needed to learn the graceful art of pacing.
Lesson #3: Run a race — It’s a confidence builder
As I watched my new pacesetter easily widen the gap between us, I prepared myself for the rest of the course: a downhill segment followed by a flat terrain all the way to the finish. Letting gravity do its work, I flew down the hill and continued running onto the flat. Cheers from bystanders lifted my spirits and empowered me to muster what strength I had left as I leaned into the final turn.
Sprint the final 100m. In high school, on the track, Coach would remind us to finish strong. As I came out of the turn, I picked up speed as best I could. Knees up. Breathing controlled. Arms pumping. I saw a clock in the distance and glanced at the time but had no oxygen left in my brain to do mental math. I’d have to find out my pace later. And then I saw a runner ahead that I might could pass. I set my eyes on her.
Sprint past the finish line. Again, at high school track meets, Coach would remind us to run past the tape not to it. Running to the tape slows a runner down just before finishing. I sprinted well into the finisher’s chute and passed that runner in front of me, mere steps from the finish line. I spent the rest of the day on a runner’s high having completed my first 10km race in under an hour and by default also setting a personal record.
Racing is a confidence builder. It brings out a competitive side that pushes personal boundaries and opens up new possibilities.
Racing showed me both what little I still knew about running as well as what more I could potentially accomplish. I ran 6.2 miles, much farther than I had ever run before and averaged 9:09 min/mi. I didn’t know I could do that! My cousin had long planted the idea for me to run a marathon but in my mind that still seemed unattainable. A half-marathon however — that seemed attainable though still quite a challenge. I knew the distance was more than double the race I just completed, and I had no idea how to train for it but I wanted to do it. And if I were to think big, I’d want to finish it in under 2:00 hours, a reasonable stretch goal from my current state. I saw this as my new challenge, my new possibility.
In addition to lessons learned, one old adage kept coming to mind, “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity.” In the months leading up to this race, I had run consistently every week as habit, increasing mileage as I got stronger. Then, I found an opportunity to explore a new experience, a 10km race that crossed the Golden Gate Bridge. There were over 700 runners in this event and I finished in the top quarter of the pack, which completely surprised me. I had finished with results that boosted my confidence, piqued my interest in the sport, and opened my mind’s eye to pursue previously unthinkable challenges. This is what happened when I kicked it up a notch.
Read on for tips on your first half marathon.
