This past Sunday, in Dallas, Texas, I did my eighth footrace of the fall and my 155th overall. The event was the Dallas White Rock Half Marathon (13.109375 miles). My friend Joe, who is responsible for getting me into distance running in 1996, picked up my packet the day before, so I had to find him in the crowd at the start to get my bib number (7709) and electronic shoe chip. Our friend Zac was with him. Unlike a year ago, when I got stuck in traffic, I made it in plenty of time (by leaving my house earlier). The weather was good for a half marathon but not for a marathon. Joe, who was doing his 22d White Rock Marathon, didn't complain, because it wasn't nearly as warm as it was a year ago. I thanked Joe for getting my packet and went to the front of the pack. The letter "A" on my bib number indicated that I was to start in the first wave. I was about 40 feet behind the world-class runners.
I didn't feel strong for the first few miles, as we ran through downtown streets. I did the first mile in 7:25, which was five seconds faster than planned. I did the half marathon a year ago at a mile pace of 7:47.16 and hoped to do 7:30 this year. Although the temperature was fine, the humidity was high. I prefer crisp, dry air, which is invigorating. Humid air makes me lethargic. At the seven-mile mark, I had a mile pace of 7:18. I was sure I'd fade, since the longest run I've done in the past nine and a half months is 6.6 miles (9.3 if you count the back-to-back races I did on Thanksgiving). I considered the seconds money in the bank, to be withdrawn from my account in the final few miles.
A strange thing happened when I reached the out-and-back portion of the course between seven and nine miles. I began to feel strong. I increased the pace and began passing people. Part of the renewal was that I was seeing the people behind me in the race. There were cones in the street, with outgoing runners on one side and incoming runners on the other. Thousands of runners were behind me. At nine miles, I was feeling the effects of the effort. My body was saying, "What are you doing, fool? You haven't run this far in a long time." I told my body to shut up and keep moving.
Early on, the course was up and down, but the final four miles were slightly downhill on the Katy Trail. I could have eased up and tried to stay below a 7:30 pace, but you know me. I would have felt guilty about it. As hard as it was, I kept the pace up. With a couple of miles to go, I realized that I could break 7:20. There were three or four other runners near me, including two young women. I used them as pacers. We took turns breaking the wind. Eleven miles. I was gasping for air. I tried to think of other things to take my mind off the pain. Twelve miles. That was the mile marker I wanted to see, because I knew I could hurt myself for 1.1 miles. I kept up the furious pace and sprinted for the finish. I thought I was going to die. You laugh, but I really did. I push myself too hard.
I finished in 1:34:48 (chip time), which is a mile pace of 7:13.88. I ran the final three miles at a seven-minute pace! This is my fastest half marathon since 4 November 2000, when I was 43 years old. (I'm 52.) I've done seven slower ones since then. My personal record at the distance is 6:47.13, set on 7 November 1998, when I was 41. I've lost 26.75 seconds per mile in 11 years.
Overall, I was 243d of 8,365 finishers, which is the top 2.9%. I was 209th of 3,560 male finishers (top 5.8%) and 13th of 274 men in my age group (top 4.7%). Here is the results page. If you click my age group (M 50-54) and click "search," it will pull up my name in 13th place. Here is a neat graphic.
Addendum: I did four half marathons a year ago (from early November to late February). My mile paces were 7:49.32, 7:47.16, 7:33.75, and 7:35.85. You can see why I'm pleased with 7:13.88. Just think if I trained properly!
Keith Burgess-Jackson, J.D., Ph.D. 