North Olympic Discovery Half Marathon

Joe and I did not start out as runners. I was quite an athlete most of my life, but let that go by the wayside in college. Joe did some sports, football and track, but ultimately opted for the drama path. After we were married and moved to Alaska we made sure to be more active to combat the effects of the dark dark winter, but whenever either of us mentioned running, the other would smash the idea without mercy. Neither of us wanted to start to run with the other. We were embarrassed.

I'm not quite sure how the transition happened, but finally, walking and the other things we were doing weren't cutting it for either of us, and we started running. It took awhile for it to be enjoyable, but we finally got there. Even then we thought people who ran long distances were crazy and never pictured ourselves training for a race. But, just like the idea that we would never run, that one was conquered as well.

Somehow we decided that we wanted to run a marathon. No, not a 5k, not a 10k, not a Turkey trot...a marathon...as our first race. So we set about to train for one. I can't even remember which one now. We went along our merry way doing that training and on a Monday after running 12 miles that weekend, we were out on a "short" run, which had now climbed to six miles and we looked at each other and realized that neither one of us was having fun any more. And what time would we have to get up on weekdays when our short runs climbed to 9 miles? We didn't even want to think about that. So we threw in the towel and declared ourselves the Mighty Masters of Moderation. Joe mentioned that a half marathon might be fun, but I poo-pooed the idea because I don't really want to run a half anything. I like to do wholes.

I can't remember how that declaration also became a notion of the past, but awhile ago we decided to run a half marathon. We trained a couple times and ended up injured, but this spring we trained again and selected a half marathon in the San Juan Islands on June 6th that was sure to be beautiful. As the day approached, we both felt a bit odd about the half we had chosen. We hadn't realized that with the ferry time it would be an 8 hour drive both ways. The race organization also seemed to be a bit on the not so stellar side. We had a fair amount of cash invested in the race though, but in a moment of rebellion I looked for other half marathons that weekend and found the North Olympic Discovery Marathon in Port Angeles. I was peeved that we had missed this before, but still sent it to Joe, thinking we would not be irresponsible enough to switch. However, there was another factor...our nephew Cameron was having a birthday in Shelton, which is on the way to Port Angeles, and the whole family was gathering there. So with that fact, our good luck in our hotel in Anacortes letting us off the hook, and a moment of self-indulgence, we were off to the races!

We traveled all the way to Port Angeles to pick up our packets on Saturday and back to hang out and spend the night in Shelton. The next morning we were up bright and early and headed back to Port Angeles.

The beginning of the race was well organized. We took a bus to the start and while we were waiting for the start and stretching, I ran into an old friend from college, Mary. I noticed her immediately and thought she looked a whole lot like my friend Mary, but since Mary's on the east coast I thought she was just a look alike. But all of a sudden I heard, "Kerry" and Mary was launching herself at me with her usual enthusiasm. It was so nice to see her. She was visiting to run the race with her sister. I was not smart enough to get a picture, but here are Joe and I pre-race.

Eventually we lined up at the start and off we went! The first few miles were through fields and were relatively flat and beautiful. Miles four through nine were more woodsy and passed through narrow creek beds that had huge down hill slopes followed with sharp inclines. Even in the most difficult areas, the scenery was so beautiful that it hardly mattered. It also helped that a friend had loaned me her watch and I was able to keep track of our time for the first time ever, and we were keeping a solid clip! We were much more motivated to run quickly when we could see the pay off on the watch. The aid stations were excellent and the volunteers were very enthusiastic. At the top of the biggest hill there was a drumming group and their constant beat made it much easier to climb the hill.

As we transitioned from the woods to the trail along the water, we crossed a few roads and at one a marimba band was playing! It was great! Just after the marimba band we hoped on a wood bridge with a corner. At the corner a spectator was letting runners know that the wood was slick. We were both very appreciative because we were pretty sure we'd be on our butts. At 9 miles we hit the water and it was gorgeous! At 7 miles we'd observed that we felt really strong and were quite pleased with that. At 9 miles we were still feeling excellent and even discussed how a marathon couldn't be that hard (remember those earlier notions that we later crushed? Yeah, this is one of those). At 10 miles we hit our "ouch" point. We had a few ouches. First, our thighs were dead. Second, despite the beauty of the water, the flat trail and constant scenery got a bit monotonous. Third, at mile 10 we could see the finish line. Usually that's a good thing, if you've got only a few hundred yards left. It is not so delightful when you have 3.1 miles left. But we pushed on, checked in with each other and generally had a good time despite the pain. At mile 12 I realized we weren't going to make our goal time of under 2 hours, but we both wanted to get close. I asked Joe if he had anything left to offer and he said no. I didn't have anything left either, but somehow we still managed to step it up enough to make our last mile our fastest. We crossed the finish line at 2:01:11 and felt amazing and victorious!

Volunteers handed us our medals and a FRS and told us something, but I don't know what it was. I was a bit out of it. We were incredibly grateful that there were volunteers to take our timing chips off. There was no way we could make the dive to our shoes. Our next stop was bag pick up where they had pulled our bags when we crossed the finish line and had them ready for us. After walking a bit to get our senses back, we lined up for the goodies! The pretzels, orange slices, and muffins were wonderful, but nothing was quite so wonderful as the warm chicken soup. Two sweatshirts, a few photos, a hug for Mary and we were on our way back to Shelton to celebrate with Cameron.

It was an excellent experience and we really enjoyed training together. It was just the right challenge without taking over our entire lives and we felt incredibly accomplished. We're running another one soon and have our sights set on a few more nearby and a few exciting ones further away.