Violet Sky

I ran another half marathon! This is my sixth half marathon (I think, I’m frankly too lazy to check), and was inspired by my last one. That last one was easily the hardest thing I’ve ever done physically, but it was invigorating to finish and realize that I was capable of such a feat. It left me ruminating and feeling like I’ve gotten soft over the last few years – I don’t really run in the summer because it’s hot and I’m busy, and then I avoid running in the winter because it’s cold, dark, and rainy. I decided to sign up for a winter half to force myself to train through the cold season here in Portland, and chose the Chilly Willy Half pretty much exclusively because of its timing and the fact that going to Phoenix mid-winter sounded amazing.

Of course, this winter in Portland ended up being incredibly mild. We had weeks of sunny, warm weather – warm for winter, that is, mid 40s and low 50s. But with the sunshine, it often felt much warmer than it actually was, and I found myself getting out during the occasional workday to take advantage of the great weather. Still, the intent of giving myself a tougher training cycle was there, and I certainly did many, many miles in the dark and cold after work. I kept up with my weight lifting, managing the 2x per week that I always aspire to, and did pretty much every training run.

The weather leading up to the event was forecast all over the place. First, it was going to rain. Then, it was going to be cloudy, but chilly. As we approached race day, it looked like it was actually going to be 80 degrees, which made me a little nervous, because you typically are not encouraged to train in the cold and run in the warm – the reverse is more effective. But we can’t control the weather and I was going to be running regardless, so I continued on. My husband also gave me a cold the week of the race, bad enough that I took two days off of work mid-week. Not an auspicious entry into the week of the race!

Packet pickup was odd. They offered an early packet pickup at a bar the night before, and I always prefer to pick up my packet in advance, so we drove out there from our Airbnb. The packet pickup was a woman drinking a glass of wine and paying her bill, with a second woman who was packaging up the pizza and onion rings she had been eating. I’m used to packet pickups being at running-related stores, and quite a bit more organized, so it was a little jarring, especially when I tried to decline a shirt and was told I couldn’t. However, it did the job and I was ready for the race the next morning.

The start was a little odd, because they offered a staggered start, with some people starting at 8 am (if they wanted) and the rest starting at 9 am. This was offered to all race lengths (5k, 10k, half marathon) so the whole time we were milling about waiting to start, people were also coming over the finish line, since they were one and the same. Somehow, things worked out for our group to start without running anyone over.

The first five miles were a mix of decent and occasionally mentally tough. I was struggling to get into a solid headspace, but I wasn’t in a terrible headspace, and things got better once I gave up on the running playlist I’ve trained with and instead switched to one that I’ve been curating but haven’t listened to very much. I reached the first half marathon turnaround, started trotting back, and was struck by how I was only a few miles into the race despite that. Naively, I came to the conclusion that the second part of the course must be much longer than the first, and that I would surely find another, longer out and back to complete the 13.1 miles.

After the 5th mile, things started to feel great. I was cruising along, the music was phenomenal, the gummy I took at the start may have finally been kicking in – things were looking up. It was also starting to get hot. It was 60F when I started the race, and with the sunny day, things had been steadily warming. I was surprised to see the second turnaround for the half marathon a mere 6 or so miles into the race, and it was with that surprise that I remembered this course was two out-and-backs that you do twice. Good times.

The second pass over the first half of the race was still feeling pretty decent, and I was enjoying the gentle slopes downhill while still pushing up the corresponding uphills. As I approached the first turnaround for the second time, I was passed by someone whose running posture looked oddly familiar. I had my suspicions, and when I passed the man a few minutes later, I turned around to look and sure enough – it was an Instagram mutual I’ve had for years, who I followed originally because another mutual of ours shouted him out and he was a runner in the Pacific Northwest. He’s since moved to Tucson, so it was not entirely a surprise to see him at a Phoenix race. I had turned around pretty obviously to look at him, so I called out, “We follow each other on Instagram,” and then turned around and kept running. In retrospect, I could have said more, and he seemed puzzled as he passed me a few more times. My music was also going and I couldn’t hear what he’d said to me, but I was trying to keep the good times going mentally and powered on despite (in retrospect) the somewhat awkward way I approached the whole thing.

At mile 10, thing started to get hot. It was the full 80F at this point, and while I was still feeling pretty good, my left calf was periodically threatening to cramp. I had at first been stingy about taking water at the aid stations (which were well-dispersed if not well-manned, having nobody at them to set out cups or ensure that water was still available) and realized after the third mile that this was a mistake, because I was nowhere near overhydrated. Despite taking water at almost every chance offered since then, I was still worried about the periodic attempted cramping and slowed my pace in hopes of being able to head off further cramping

I had a brief moment of hope, where I thought that I was not going to have to do the second part of the out-and-back a second time, because I was just about at 11 miles when I could see the finish line in the distance and thought that perhaps there was enough space between me and that finish line to simply roll over the grass to the end without another stretch of quiet walking trail. Alas, it was not to be, and when I saw my husband videoing me as I approached, I pointed down the trail that I had to run again to indicate that I wasn’t done with the course.

Miles 12 and 13 were ROUGH. SO ROUGH. At this point, both my calves were periodically cramping. I tried adjusting my stride and running style to stretch the calf out more while I ran, but it wasn’t particularly effective and I found myself walking over and over to accommodate my calves cramping. When I got to the finish line, I tried my best to run across it, but of course my calves were busily cramping and it was an awkward hobble that had me miming hanging myself to my husband right before I crossed the finish line. Good times.

I finished in 2:07, which was a shockingly good time considering that one of my last few miles was almost at 11 minutes. My MVP of the entire experience was a man at the water station by the finish line, which I passed four times, and he was either directly handing out water or manning the station such that I could grab water/Gatorade. My heart was absolutely full of gratitude each and every time he handed me something to drink.

Would I run the Chilly Willy Phoenix again? Probably not, but it was a good excuse to get out of the Pacific Northwest for a bit and it kept me running throughout the winter. Despite my difficulties at the end of the race, I ended up 1st in my age group and 6th female overall, so that’s a nice, if small, consolation prize.