Today, I completed my first half-marathon, in Raleigh, of all places. I moved away from Raleigh when I went to work at Papermill, and I started graduate school immediately afterward, so I haven't been back for more than a day or two at a time since 2005.
When I started running this year, and somewhere along the way decided I could do a Spring half-marathon (actually, I remember, I decided in Atlanta, I was sitting on the most incredible bed of the entire tour at the
Georgian Terrace), and in searching what half-marathons were happening before I'd leave for
Cincinnati, I realized this one occurred right around the time I was coming home for a visit. The Raleigh Rocks Half Marathon boasted Bank of America sponsorship and a terribly lax website, whose only updates since January were the ever-growing list of musical groups who would be performing along the course--they included three or four bands made up of kids under 17, and a single bagpiper in a kilt at Mile 9. Always an advocate for efficiency, I registered, though not sure if I would really be able to train myself from trial and error practice, the advice of good runner friends, and whatever seemingly most legit info I found online. Turned out, it wasn't the running I wouldn't have properly prepared for.
During my seven years in Raleigh (1998-2005), a whole lot happened. I went through four years of college, was one of sixty lucky participants in an amazing academic
scholarship program, met scads of life-changing friends, started out as Pre-Vet in Animal Science, changed my major to Biology, exited Pre-Vet, changed my major again to
Theatre, added Mass Media as a second major, added Vocal Performance as a minor, met a guy I wasn't expecting and married him, worked as a legal assistant, a bank teller, a Barista, a babysitter, a paid soloist for a church, a catering waitress, a
clown/costume shop assistant, a costume mistress at my own theatre, eventually an actress (yes, paid) for my school's summer stock, and eventually the head of youth ministry for two different churches, decided to go to graduate school in theatre, was hit by a car in what could've been a
life-threatening accident, and said marriage ended.
Of course, it occurred to me that running through the city where all of this life happened would bring back some memories, but I was surprised to see so much in front of me as I passed the landmarks.
Since people wanted to know how the run went, let me break it down for you:
Mile 1 took us out of downtown, away from the BB&T building that housed my legal assis
tant job, away from City Market, where REP and Vic's Cafe live, all those great plays that inspired even greater discussions with friends, many of which occurred over garlic knots and cheese slices at Vic's, when the creepy short waiter wasn't hitting on me. We made our way onto Hillsborough Street, NC State's main drag. I passed Snoopy's, the drive-in joint where I used to cheat on my vegetarianism when I'd had an impossibly terrible day and would buy a hot dog. Then Boylan Ave., which made me think of my Annie cast, and I decided that mile was for Liz and Emily Rudolph, who said I'd inspired them to eat better and exercise.
There was the IHOP, where my lighting design class took a break from our midterm and final design all-nighters for way-too-expensive pancakes at 3am. The YMCA we joined in 2004 to save money, where I took yoga and pilates classes with my friend from the law firm, Amy, sometimes even her husband and mine, and always the old lady who couldn't help queefing when she rolled back down from plow pose. Seriously. Every. Time.
I ran by the Velvet Cloak Inn, where my mom ordered me a huge plate of waffles the morning of my final Park Scholarship interview, and I think I was able to eat about three bites of them, I was so nervous. There was the historic NC State Belltower, the symbol of our university in all our logos. The corner where that awesome homemade ice cream shop is sadly no longer located, Maiden Lane, where my roommate's and my dear friend Kevin lived...there were many Kevins freshman and sophomore year, but this was the Kevin who was a 6'2 rock-climbing vegetarian, who brought me gelatin-free gummy bears from Germany, made me my first tofu pot pie, and would curl up in the fetal position when any girl mentioned her period.
The second mile kept me plugging up the street (at a 9:45 mile pace, taking it purposefully easy in order not to blow my energy, thank you David Conrad, Lauren Haar, and Cara Bonewitz) and passed the Breugger's Bagels and Planet Smoothie that fueled so many school days and late Sunday mornings after cast parties/before the next rehearsal I couldn't even count if I wanted to. My mom had brought me a smoothie from there the day after my accident, too. There was Caldwell Hall, w
here I took Literature of the Holocaust, my favorite class in college, taught by my favorite teacher in college. On the other side of the street was El Rodeo, our dorm suite's cheap beloved Mexican restaurant that we called "The Rodeo," partly because that's what it meant, but mostly because of what would go on in your large intestine after eating there. (The painting to the left has nothing to actually do with El Rodeo except, I guess, being a cheap Mexican stereotype, but it came up when I did a google image search for the restaurant, and how could I pass it up?)
The third mile approached and passed Clark Avenue, where David's apartment was when we started seeing each other, the same one where I went looking for him when he hadn't come home for days a few years later. There went Two Guys, where we held endless Park dinners. I laughed as I passed Sir Speedy, the copy shop that held the monopoly of course packets for State--I was
just talking with Josh about it in New Haven. You
had to buy your course packets there, often 25 pages of copies of worksheets, syllabi, and the like, but you still had to pay $37 for them and they were required for class. Ah yes, the tattoo parlor where I got my belly button pierced shortly after my 19th birthday while dating the frat boy. (Ah, youth.) The Kinkos where I made several last minute expensive copies of my headshot for auditions for local theatres is now a FedEx Office, but Man Mur, famous for it's cheap haircut--always the same, no matter what the dudes ask for, is still holding strong. The cobbler shop that replaced two pairs of soles of my Birkenstocks is still there, too; I was happy to see it.
Mile 4 took us down and around Gorman Street, past the gas station where I filled up for endless trips to Greensboro and filled the front tire of my Subaru with air about six times before realizing there was a nail in it. I remembered the many Applebees "crack" brownies and appetizers Jackie, Byron, Ryan, and others split after University Theatre shows, and smiled thinking about Anna's plan to marry a student from China as I passed the E.S. King Village--it was married student housing on campus, pretty decent apartments at dorm cost, and preference was given to students who'd come in from other countries.
Mile 5 spanned the rest of Hillsborough Sreet up to Blue Ridge Road. I slowed down to make sure that Edible Art was still there. Best cake of my life--vanilla cake with buttercream icing--I knew we couldn't afford it for our wedding, but it didn't stop us from splitting single slices
of it after shows or for celebrations. The sign was still there; I almost wished it hadn't been once I'd seen it. It wasn't an easy sight to see. Good for another laugh, though, was Beansprout Cafe, holding strong. It was the "good" Chinese place until one of us in the dorm suite got food poisoning. We didn't eat much Chinese food anywhere after that. I looked to my right and we were passing University Club, where our scholarship group hosted and schmoozed with several university presidents and various other dignitaries. The cows were still there in the pasture at the vet school, at the bottom of the hill whose crest held the barn where I castrated a goat in Animal Science class.
We got to Mile 6, and I admit, my knees were hurting a little. I pulled out my mantra (it's a little silly, if you really want to know it, you can ask me), and that plus the band of middle schoolers playing adorable simple rock music helped me up the hill to Blue Ridge Rd. I decided the next mile was for Jackie, since I felt like I was running to her old apartment off Trinity Rd., and before I knew it, I'd passed th
e NC State Fairgrounds, where I remembered very well eating my way through the 2003 State Fair with Clark, my fellow intern at White Memorial.
Miles 7 and 8 took us into the Sculpture Garden at the NC Museum of Art, a beautiful trail where David and I walked our dog Sarah whenever the weather was good. The hills through that trail were no joke, but I remembered my friend Jeffrey's cries of "sonofabitch!" whenever we'd come up a hill while running on tour, so quietly to myself, I said "sonofabitch!" when I needed it, and I never had to walk a hill. I kept rounding corners, and the hills kept rolling, but just when I'd think I was going to have to walk, I found the hill was done.
Mile 9 looped back around Meredith College and back through the neighborhood that had brought us to Gorman the first time. By that time, I understood how important race volunteers really are. Every time someone was standing along the road clapping and calling out "keep going! only x miles left! You're doing great!" it made a huge difference.
My mom was standing in a clearing at Mile 10 (the farthest I'd run before the race), jumping up and down and waving. I cried a little, I'm not ashamed to admit it (not like it was the first time on this run, anyway). I was so glad she was there, and I knew she'd probably been driving around for a while, trying to find a place where she could see me along the way. I yelled out something to the effect of "Mama! Heyyyyyy! I'm OK! I'm actually above my pace! I'll see you again in a little while! Aaaah!" It made me forget about my ankles that were sore in all the places that have flared up in the years since the car accident, and I realized my pace had gone down to 8:40. (Note to self: next race, bring a larger cheering section. :) )
The rest of the race retraced our steps back to the starting line, and it seemed all-too-appropriate that "Revelation" from
Passing Strange played just as I ran by the former location of Christ our Comfort Church, my first praise team singer job. Immediately after that was Counting Crows' "Einstein on the Beach," which always reminded me of
Picasso at the Lapin Agile, the show David and I met doing. It occurred to me that I'd been under pace for I thought just about every mile, but I hadn't paid much attention or been able to remember my totals, I just knew that I was coming in earlier than I expected. I remembered reading one of my friend Lou's
Runner's World magazines on tour, where an elite marathoner from Raleigh, of all places, had contributed some drills for picking up the pace at the end of your race. I had done those drills in my own training, and I was so amazed to be almost done, I didn't notice at first that I actually felt just fine. So I ran. I mean, I was already running, but I
really ran. The last mile, faster and faster, and I sprinted across the finish line. My Garmin watch read 2:03:55, and 13.18 miles...I must've hit "start" before I actually crossed the foot pad to start the race, but that averaged out to 9:24 mile pace, which was faster than I'd ever done my long runs in training, not to mention this was the first time I actually ran 13 miles at once.
Much thanks to my Ipod's Workout Mix on shuffle, and thank goodness the Raleigh Rocks Half Marathon is ghetto enough to allow ipods, the miles flew by with the addition of poignant songs (yes, I even run to folky music) that reminded me of so many people who were in various states across the country but thinking about my race this morning. Here's what played, if you're curious.
REM: Horse to Water
Swell Season (Glen Hansard): Leave
Sara Barailles: Gravity
Josh Ritter: Kathleen (Live)
Sara Barailles: Between the Lines
Josh Ritter: Good Man
Passing Strange Soundtrack (Stew & co): Keys (It's Alright)
Sarah Mac Band: Open Fire
Great Big Sea: Donkey Riding
Ray LaMontagne: You Are the Best Thing
Counting Crows: You Can't Count on Me
Swell Season: You Ain't Goin' Nowhere (Dylan cover)
Patti Griffin: Poor Man's House
Jason Mraz: Butterfly
Alanis Morissette: Underneath
Bruce Springsteen with the Sessions Band: Eyes on the Prize
Alanis Morissette: Versions of Violence
Alanis Morissette: Giggling Again for No Reason
Bruce Springsteen with the Sessions Band: This Little Light of Mine
Elisa: Dancing
Swell Season: Into the Mystic (Van Morrison cover)
Jay-Z/Alicia Keys: Empire State of Mind
Iron & Wine: Boy With a Coin
Jamie Lidell: Wait for Me
Patty Griffin: Rowing Song
Swell Season: When Your Mind's Made Up
Passing Strange Soundtrack: Church Blues Revelation/Freight Train
Counting Crows: Einstein on the Beach (For an Eggman)
In the Heights Soundtrack: 96,000
Josh Ritter: Harrisburg (Live)
Dixie Chicks: Not Ready to Make Nice
It seems a little cheesy, but the race itself was symbolic of my own journey away from Rale
igh and getting on with my life after I left. I took things slowly at the start, taking the advice of loved ones, and plodded along steadily until I found my own footing. Just when I'd passed the distance with which I felt comfortable, I saw my loved ones there, knew they'd really been there all along, no matter where I was or if they couldn't find me, and it helped me to speed up and really be on my own. Who knew? In the end, I can honestly say the race was a lot easier than I expected, I did an awful lot better than I thought I ever could, and I would never have guessed that in the very town where I thought I'd never breathe again, in the physical, emotional, and psychological senses, I actually breathed steadily through 13.1 miles, and really
ran across the finish line.
