It seemed like a good idea in November, when there was at least the hope of a mild winter. But by the time Micah and I were standing at the start line of the Brrrr-ooklyn Hot Chocolate Half Marathon yesterday, it seemed like a very, very bad idea. I feared for my fingers. I could not feel my face. How on earth were we going to run around the park 4 times? These thoughts were in my head even though this 25-degree weather was the warmest it had been all week. Micah had done a 10-miler on Monday. I’d done 4 in the snow with the stroller on Tuesday. It had been freezing on Thursday evening’s speed work, and not much better when the sun was out on Friday. But then, it’s not like we were doing 13 miles on those days . . . .
It was only a couple of miles before the feeling returned to our fingers and toes. After two laps I was questioning the wisdom of wearing two long-sleeved shirts under my wool jacket. And by the time we crossed the line, we had nearly worked up a sweat. Still, the hot chocolate at the finish was welcome, though I do wish they had come up with a means of keeping the cream cheese from freezing before we smeared it on our bagels.
All in all, it was a good race to have done. It may be the first time I’ve raced where I really did not care about getting close to a PR. After having run 5 800s approximately 36 hours before, putting in another 5 the day before, and not getting a lot of sleep, the goal was to run sub-8:00s and to try to go faster at the end. This race was totally mental preparation for Boston in April. And I think it did its job. Our last mile was our fastest. Most miles were sub-8:00s. And Micah, though quite undertrained, made it look easy – though I know it wasn’t.
We got a a ride home afterward from our friend Sharra, who totally killed it and PRed by 7 minutes. And then we spent the rest of the day hobbling around on tight calves and creaky joints. But still, we felt pretty good about our efforts.