Preparing for my first Pikermi ...er ...half marathon

I'm feeling a little bit crazy. Six months ago, a month into my first round of P90X, I was challenged by a friend of mine at work to go for a run. He suggested a couple of different races in the 4 miler range as a goal for me. I thought he was crazy. No, I knew he was crazy! After all, he had already run a few races, including a half-marathon. Call it what you will, but I couldn't let that challenge drop. I had to try it, if only to prove to myself that he was nuts.

Another bit of background information would be helpful here: I had already attended more races than I could count - both biking and foot races. Of course, I wasn't a participant. I was a volunteer. More specifically, I played the role of communications support for events in the Phoenix area. I had seen the agony, the defeat, the elation, and all the other crazies who ran or cycled until their bodies gave out. But what got me the most was the age of some of these competitors. It wasn't uncommon to see a lady in her 60s or even 70s crossing the finish line of a half marathon.

Call it what you will, but I decided to take the challenge. I mean, if grandmas and grandpas were able to run a half marathon, I could certainly handle a 4-miler, right? Wrong. At least not at first. I didn't considered myself too terribly out of shape at that point. I was 197 lbs. and was able to do an hour of P90X without hurling - almost. So, I figured I could run for half an hour without ending up in the ER.

I woke up early one morning, grabbed an old pair of cross trainers, basketball shorts and a t-shirt and headed out the door. My son rode his bike next to me in case I passed out and needed a messenger to run home and inform my wife. I started out slowly, so as to not hurt myself but, after the first loop of my street (0.5 miles), I was ready to quit. The second loop consisted of half walking, half running. I made it one mile and I was done.

Fast forward six months and here I am preparing for my first half marathon. I don't know exactly what it was, but I know I was not satisfied with almost dying after a mile of running/walking around my neighborhood. I began running longer distances, carefully monitoring my pace, and watching what I ate. Last Saturday, I ran my longest distance ever: 11.5 miles. And, at the end of July, I will be running my first half marathon, the Morgan Valley Marathon. Now I'm the crazy one.