Half Marathon Training Program Update

This week, we decided to do some hill training.  There are some pretty decent hills on the half marathon course and we've been training mostly on the flat.  So my running buddy and I, we agreed to tackle some hills. Fortunately, my running buddy lives in the middle of a whole bunch of hills, such that it's impossible to run more than a few blocks in any direction from his house without wishing you were dead.  Yay.

Rather than mapping a route, we decided to just go on an adventure, with the GPS running program on his smartphone tracking our route, pace and mileage for us.  Neat!

We set out in the rain, and I was immediately soaked.  My feet and the last six inches of my pants were sodden after a mere ten minutes, and we planned to be out for two hours, so I was prepared for some real fun.

We were going slowly, because of the hills and the rain and perhaps because my running buddy was a teensy bit hungover.  After about a half hour, we agreed that we didn't need to run all twelve of our planned miles.  Maybe only 10?  After another ten minutes or so, we were opening negotiations on perhaps stopping after 9.  Or 8.  It was a rough run.

Then, we turned a corner and came upon THE HILL.

I grew up in the foothills of the rockies and there is not a flat street in my whole hometown, but this hill, this was the most imposing urban climb I'd ever seen.  It just kept going up and up and up.  We stared at the hill.  It glistened dully in the rain.  I may have whimpered.  Ever the optimist, Jared urged me on.  He said some crazy things about how "we can do this!" and "this hill is our bitch!"  He was, not surprisingly, wrong.

I tried.  I ran.  I ran and I ran.  My chest burned and my legs were on fire and my butt muscles screamed.  I slowed. Jared kept up a running monologue of encouragement.  I think I managed to whimper, and somehow to say "how (gasp) can you (gasp) still (gasp) talk!?!" About two thirds of the way up the hill, I gave up.  I surrendered.  We walked the rest of the way up the hill and I stood at the top, recovering my breath, for a few minutes before we started running again.  That hill kicked my ass.

We took a picture of the hill, in hopes that we could convey to others its sheer magnitude, but the picture doesn't really capture it.  I found this picture on google maps:
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But it's all sunny and friendly looking, and you can't really appreciate the hilliness of this hill and the sheer evil it exuded in the rain.  Still, look at the horizon at the top of the hill; really look at where the blue meets the grey. Maybe you will understand.  Or maybe I have completely lost my mind about this hill. Probably the latter.

Anyway, so we only ran 9 miles.  After the hill, I was toast.  We never got up to a decent pace, and I never quite recovered.  My knees were aching on all the downslopes and my chest was tight on all the upslopes.  It wasn't my best run ever.  I hope I get in some good ones before the race and get my confidence back and reclaim that sense of running empowerment that got me hooked in the first place.  It's there; I know it is. I think the race will help me find it, and I think that this time, I've trained better, I'm more experienced and better prepared, and I'm going to find out what I can really do.  It's exciting.

After the race, which is only a few weeks away now, I had planned to take the rest of April off from formal training and long runs, and then start fresh May 1 with Marathon training.  My first marathon.  What a goal!  But now... now I have a new goal.  And intermediate goal.  Before I run a marathon, I am going to beat that hill.  After the half, I am going to go over there, and I am going to run that hill, bottom to top, whatever it takes.  Hear this, hill, it is ON.