I ran a half-marathon.
Which basically means I can do anything, because ARE YOU FRIGGIN KIDDING ME, I RAN A HALF-MARATHON?!
I’m the chubby kid who hated cross-country Wednesday almost as much as I hated math (i.e. A LOT) – and six months ago, I couldn’t have run two kilometres, let alone 21.
And yet here we are.
I, Kate the Non-Runner, have a medal for the Wellington Round the Bays Half-Marathon, and I didn’t even buy it off TradeMe.
Started from the bottom, now we here
I am deadly serious when I say I couldn’t run 2km in a row six months ago.
I had a baby in November 2017, so my cardiovascular fitness (and pelvic floor) were missing in action for the first half of last year.
As I started to emerge from the new parent fog some time in July, I must of been feeling a bit of get up and go, because I decided to start this blog and to take up running.
I’d always wanted to do a half-marathon, so making it a Thirty Before Thirty goal put just the right amount of internet accountability on myself to actually commit to running 21km in a row.
Lamp post to lamp post
My first couple of jogs were a true family affair.
My husband Taka was recovering from a knee injury (which he actually ended up needing to have surgery for – but more on that later), so the two of us strapped on our sneakers, put the baby in the buggy and the dog on the lead, and we took to the streets … taking on one lamp post at a time.
We were super slow. Bucky the Westie was the worst. I think I was basically dragging him by the home-stretch.
But little by little we were able to run further, and faster. And eventually I ditched the boys altogether (mainly for the sake of Bucky, and to snaffle up some “me time”).
I still remember the total euphoria at running our 4km neighbourhood block without stopping.
If I could give you one tip for starting running, it would be: let yourself suck. Running ALWAYS sucks at the start. Don’t beat yourself up because you “should” be able to do more, or it “shouldn’t” be this hard. Because running IS hard. At the start especially. But … the more you do it, the better you get, and the more fun it gets. Stick with it, and give yourself permission to suck.
I kept doing the neighbourhood block run for a while to really get my feet back in the game, and then I started doing destination runs.
By which I mean, I drove somewhere to run.
It was around this time that I started this six-week training plan to give myself some structure, and to make sure I was getting enough kilometres in.
(If I’m honest, I didn’t do the speed work, and I only averaged about three runs a week. One lunchtime jog, one during the week, and one on the weekend. All of which were captured on Strava, cause if it’s not on Strava, did it even happen?)
My favourite place to run was the Hutt Valley River Trail.
The map has clear markings so I could see how long my loops were (for someone who hates math, I bloody love running stats), it’s mostly flat, and the river and bush are super pretty.
It was there that I ran my first 10km, 12km, and 16km; practiced with gels (these are my faves); did my first Park Runs; ran through detailed scenarios in my head about how I would fend off an attacker; and listened to countless episodes of Sports? with Katie Nolan and the RISE Podcast.
They were really nice times. Especially as the bulk of my training was done was during our surprisingly tropical summer.
They were also made possible because my husband Taka had knee surgery in early January, so I was able to do some sizable mid-week (as well as weekend) training runs while he looked after our little man at home.
I have nothing but fond memories of that summer along the river.
Running tips with Kate: Not sure you can run long distance? Go really, really slow. Learn how to pace yourself. You might not be as fit and fast as you’d like to be, but if you’ve got a reasonable base level of fitness, you should be able to finish if you hit it “tortoise” (not hare) style and go slow and steady.
Round the Bays – In Theory
The course for Wellington Round the Bays is beautiful.
It starts at Frank Kitts Park, and then follows the Wellington waterfront along past Oriental Bay, Evans Bay (literally all of the bays), past the Miramar turnoff, and winds around the water until you’re nearly at Scorching Bay, and then you double-back to Kilbirnie Park.
Or, see: course map.
Round the Bays – In practice
In practice, it was a little bit different.
Miraculously, my son slept through the night, and I didn’t wake up until my alarm went off at 5pm.
I turned it off, snuck out of bed, and slunk into the bathroom to get changed into my bike shorts, singlet, shoes, and chic as hell fanny pack (it nipped me in at the waist so well I’m deliberating wearing one on the regular).
Next stop was the kitchen, where I made myself two pieces of Vogel’s toast with peanut butter and banana, and a black coffee.
Then it was game face time. Back to the bathroom, and on with: Goodness Every Morning Moisturiser (gotta get that SPF), Rimmel Lasting Finish Foundation and Stay Matte Pressed Powder, Benefit Brow Contour Pro, and Benefit Roller Lash.
Which some of you may not think of as essential race-day prep, to which I say to you:
I’m going to be looking dreadful – because running 21kms – so I’m going to at least give my face a fighting chance at looking Instagrammable.
Then there was a knock, knock, knock on the door.
My hype squad had arrived.
She bundled me into her (Taylor) Swift at 6.45am, and we talked excitedly all the way into Wellington about the training I’d done and how I hoped I wouldn’t end up in an ambulance.
She had that proud mum energy that us attention-seeking first-borns are forever thirsty for.
Then we were there, and it was time for a nervous wee in a portaloo, before assembling at the starting line.
The first 5km
Were super easy. I was determined to pace myself well, so stuck to my guns and plodded along slowly, unperturbed by the hundreds of fit people passing me.
I had to stop for another nervous wee at the first portaloo.
From 5km to 10km
Still not too bad. I’d seen mum and her hilarious sign twice, I’d had a gel, and I was just entering the shade of the final knob of the race course.
This last section is much longer than I remember.
Have another gel.
I’m also seeing a very disconcertingly large number of people coming back past me towards the finish line, but the turnaround point is nowhere to be seen.
At 14km I finally get to turn around.
Gosh, it’s a long way back.
Pass the 16km marker. This is officially the longest I’ve ever run in my life.
Remember how when I did my 16km training run my calves had started cramping as soon as I stopped.
The calves are twitching, threatening to cramp.
I have to get going.
Contemplate getting a tattoo of XXI in honour of completing the race, which I tell myself I will, to remind myself that I can do bloody anything.
The last 1km is so hard. I want to stop. But I don’t want to stop, because my calves are going to absolutely murder me.
And then I can see the finish line – through approximately 5 million buggys – and I slowly attempt to weave my way towards it.
I’ve done it! I have an enormous medal! MUM! Good Lord, I can’t walk. Oh no, we have to walk to the car, 500 miles away. But I DID IT! I ACTUALLY DID IT!
Proceeds to eat a double-pack One Square Meal Bar, and demolish a blue Powerade like Steven Adams, as we go the long way home through Island Bay.
I am amazing.
Fancy a run?
Honestly, if I can do it, you can do it.
Seize the day. Get some sneakers. And let your body amaze you with what it’s capable of.
Just run, Forrest.