“Fast and Furious” is the name Duncan and I chose for our two-person masters mixed relay team at The Rock, and that is exactly how I ran it.
I waited for the start gun to cheer my teammate off before taking the shuttle bus to the exchange point. I filled my lungs with as much air as I could and yelled “Go fast and furious Duncan!” A woman beside me laughed and yelled “No, no! Not too fast! Not too furious!” But Duncan had already gone too far to hear.
I ran to the bus stop on time to catch the last one to the mid-point, actually at mile 13. My friend Sandra was there. We warmed up together and chatted while waiting for our teammates to approach. Suddenly, there was Duncan. I got so nervous about starting my part of the race that I couldn’t find the way to take off the plastic bag and the jacket I was wearing to keep myself warm. I did it, just in time to take the hand band Duncan passed me. Duncan pushed me in the back and put me into the pace he was finishing in… yes, you read right, the pace he was running.
When I reached the 13.1 mile mark I started my chronometer, only to find out at mile 14 that I hadn’t really started it. I started it again, only to find out at mile 15 that I missed it again. I felt panicky. I was running alone -- no one to check my pace with, the miles coming on too fast. Someone was following me. Then, a woman on a five-person relay whose teammate had been following Duncan at the exchange point passed me and yelled “6:10 pace!” 6:10, I thought -- ‘Oh my, I’m dead!’
I slowed down. I didn’t feel bad, but I was sure was going to be washed up before the Dolly Barton hills at mile 20. I finally pushed the right button on my watch at mile 16. At mile 17, my pace showed 6:30. I was running as if in a 10K! I slowed down some more, thinking there was no way I could finish the race running. I felt the urge to stop and walk for a while at mile 20, but the thought of disappointing Duncan by not making the time we planned was too heavy, … I just couldn’t stop, though my legs where hurting pretty bad.
My shoulders felt as tensed up as if they were touching my ears, but I pushed on. I pushed “furiously” through those hills. Mile 21 -- 7:00 minutes pace. Slow. ‘If I keep slowing down I won’t make our time goal,’ I thought. So, I stayed on that pace for one more mile, fighting the pain in my tense back, neck and hip.
I tried to relax on the downhill, taking deep breaths, thanking the policemen, thinking on a relaxing trail run. Suddenly I felt it, the last wind, the sense that I could go faster and finish, so, I pushed. “Fast and furiously,” I repeated to myself. “Pain is temporary,” – as Duncan says – “Proud is forever.”
Closer to the finish, there was a group of Afro-Americans lifting the mood of the runners with such a wonderful rhythmical improvised choir that I forgot the pain for a little while. And then, there were some motorcycle riders gunning their engines. The riders called me by my name (maybe some of them are those who often ride near Grapevine Lake). They cheered and yelled some things I shouldn’t write down (Yolanda, move you’re a__!). I laughed, and that help me push through the pain.
Finally, the finish line. I ran as fast as I could at that point. The clock showed 2:47. We did it! Maybe a P.R. for me! I was all smiles looking around for Duncan. Really happy, not in pain. “Do you want a finish photo?” somebody asked me. Sure, but with my teammate I said. I kept looking for him and then realized he wasn’t there. All the way being pushed by my teammate expecting me at the finish line and he wasn’t there! I felt all the pain that the pressure had created in my body coming back. At the time I’m writing this, (3 weeks after the race) I still feel pain. I haven’t run more than 14 miles a week. I can’t sleep well because my back hurts.
Of course, I found out at the post race party that I did set a new personal best half marathon and that Duncan had continued on to run the second half too. That certainly excused him for not being at the finish line. I hope his mantra about pain and pride is true. He is right about the pride. I am quite proud about our teamwork and what we achieved. Whether the pain is temporary, I don’t know. I’m still waiting to find out.