Since this is a running post, I thought I would take this moment to remind you that on Sunday I am running a 10K and with it, hoping to raise money for Green Star Movement.

The last time I ran a half-marathon, I hated nearly every minute of it, but especially the beginning. And when you hate the beginning, you might as well hate the whole thing because that's a lot of hating. My goal for running a second half was just to have an enjoyable time.

The odds were in my favor: my training had been undramatic this year. I had adopted the philosophy that walk breaks =/= instant failure. I would be running in New Orleans, which meant a change of scenery and the promise of lots of fun afterwards. And the goal of merely having fun is usually a good indicator that you will probably have fun.

Did I succeed? Yes, mostly. I packed everything I needed. I got a ride down to the starting line which was quick and convenient. The Jazz Half Marathon I ran was a nice, small size (small enough that I had time to use the port-o-lets without an anxiety-inducing rush, unlike last time.) I got to the race with plenty of time to stretch and feel pumped up and take it all in (also unlike the last race.) I had hydrated the right amount (thanks to a scary email that got sent out the day before warning runners of dangerously high temperatures the next day.) I got to enjoy the mansions on St. Charles and beautiful Audobon Park. I did not feel instantly crushed as early as miles 1 or 2. In fact, for miles 7-10 I was actually thinking things like "I got this!" and "mile 8 already?" I also had friends cheering me on the course, which was fun: I had something to look forward to along the route.

However, at a certain point my body was just not having as much fun as my brain wanted to have. Maybe I'm too old? Maybe it was the humidity? But around mile ten everything became a slog, and that was with the walk breaks, the Shot Bloks, the new music I had bought, the cups of cool water I kept pouring over my head. For the last mile and a half or two, I checked out, mentally, and was just trying to get there.

Near the end a group of jokey guys (race humor is very silly, which is great. I liked the signs that said "You're beating everyone behind you!" and "You think you're tired? My arms are killing me!") had a table set up that said "$1 Water/Free Shots." I took one of the shots handed to me and held onto it for the last mile of the race--that was pretty easy for how slow I was running. I told myself that I'd take the shot as a reward but I also think I just needed something to focus on, sort of like how some women in labor need to focus on a little thing in the room in order to manage their pain.

My husband was regretful that he didn't make it to the finish line in time to watch me cross but I really didn't care, because I just wanted ten minutes to get myself together without having to talk to anyone. I enjoyed the free beer, fudgsicle and jambalaya I received at the post-race party and wore my medal, but once again had the "Thank god that's over" feeling (and once again I feel shame for how absolutely impossible it seems to run twice the distance of a half-marathon--why shame? That's probably another blog post.)

I ran a ten-mile race earlier this year and didn't struggle at all throughout that race. Maybe that's just my ideal long distance. I really figured that if ten miles was doable, then 13.1 isn't that much longer so what's the big deal (also: I ran a 12 mile run a few weeks ago and that also wasn't nearly the ordeal that mile 12 was during the race.) Perhaps it was the heat and the humidity or the lack of sleep but the whole thing was just hard, maybe too hard for my taste.

In the moment I said "I think that's my last half-marathon" but I'm already backtracking--maybe next time what I need to do is have fun but also do it in a cooler climate! There's something a little addictive about how in shape I felt towards the end of my training, the accomplishment I felt looking back over all those crossed-out boxes. My legs even look better when I run that much, which might not sound very significant but it is for me, because my legs and ankles otherwise exist in a state of steadfast cankleness.

But the main goal of a race like that is to be finished, and I definitely need a good break to reconsider my goals and why I do this stuff. Maybe I'll try again after I have another kid (if that happens: the race was definitively the cap on my "reclaiming my body" process.) Or maybe never! But I will say that if I do it again, I will definitely have three cocktails for lunch afterwards like I did this last time, because that part was indeed awesome. New Orleans may be humid but the party never lets you down.

*****

Before my race, I kept a notebook of tips I had picked up on how to prepare for a long race that was out of town. Below were the tips that seemed most relevant to me; I included my reactions to how well they went over.

For long runs, dedicate "tribute miles" to people you care about or who inspire you:
I couldn't really bear to think of any one particular person or thing for an entire mile but I did think a lot about my favorite supporters and particularly my baby who probably does not actually support me but I still like him.

2 days before the run, plan to get at least eight hours of sleep
Done

On race day, arrive 90 minutes before the start time and walk around as a warmup.
Didn't get there quite as early but I got there early enough to not feel rushed--and more importantly, to use the restroom 2x--which was key.

Run slowly, picking up the last third of the race if you're feeling good.
Uh, no problem with #1. #2 wasn't something I had to worry about.

Enjoy the final mile!
Meh.

Don't sprint at the finish: do a gradual build though if you feel up to it.
No worries about sprinting.

Take 2g a day of Vitamin C two days before the trip.
Done. I didn't get sick but that probably had nothing to do with the Vitamin C.

Drink more water the week before the race.
Done. Glad to not have to get up in the middle of the night to pee anymore.

Avoid fiber before the race.
No problemo! My friend Liz made spaghetti and meatballs and I had some salad with it the night before.

On race day, drink a glass of water after waking up, and stop intake of anything a half hour before the gun.
Fine. I slammed three cups of coffee, a glass and a half of water and a peanut-butter-English-muffin with banana as soon as I got up (which was at 5:30; the race was at 7 AM).

Smile at the starting line: draw confidence from your training. The race is a celebration of the months of hard work being completed.
I did do this and that was the biggest, best thing that was different from my first half.

Poor rest the night before the race is not a big deal: worrying about it just hurts concentration.
That's good to know because I didn't get much sleep the night before, partially due to anxieity, partially due to someone next to me snoring like a hog.

Pack all the race must-haves in a carry-on:
See below!