Worcester, MA

After reading my last post, my brother was a little anxious. You see, he thought I had forgotten to mention the most important part of the Worcester Half Marathon. In that post, I did mention that I ran the race in Worcester. I wrote about the fact that Vick ran it with me, and that we ran it faster than expected. What Broder didn't realize, was that my last post was really about Vick, and less about the race. No worries, Broder, this post is about the race.

The race:

Vick and I had to leave home really early on the morning of the race. Armed with Pop Tarts and bottled Starbucks Frappaccinos (breakfast of champions), we departed before sunrise on Sunday for Worcester. We were pumped up and ready to run. I tuned the radio to the terrible music that my high school students used to demand in the background as they worked on their labs. I sang along for maximum effect, and I could tell, Vick was ready to get out and start running (away from me... but hey, whatever works).

Our main motivation for finishing the half? Food. For the past 3 months, we've been denying ourselves some of our favorite things to eat. Over and over we fantasized about that moment, as soon as the race was done, that we could treat our bellies to the food of our dreams... sigh. Those sweet dreams of chocolate-chip pancakes, waffles with strawberries, ice cream, milk shakes, pizza....Clearly we have the appetite of seven-year-olds. Don't judge.

By the time we got to our two-mile marker, I knew we were running too fast. Pacing ourselves at over a minute-per-mile faster than we trained put us at risk of losing steam before the end. I almost slowed Vick down on a few occasions, but then I thought, "pancakes soon." And I kept pace.

Around Mile 7 I thought my fears had been confirmed. Suddenly, Vick slowed down. Not to a walk, but close. I looked over my left shoulder, and yelled, "hey?". No response. His headphones were in. He couldn't hear me. Eyes gazing upwards, he wasn't even looking at me. I slowed down, too, and poked him. "HEY?!". His eyes dropped to meet mine. "Yeah?". "You ok? Speed up?", I said. "Oh," he said, "sorry, I was reading that billboard. It's all about Einstein!" I pulled on his arm, and he sped up again. Nerdface.

Wait, why didn't anyone tell me that Worcester was hilly??? At one point, I looked up to a neighborhood on a hill, and said "Vick, I hope we don't go up there." Next thing we knew, we were on our way up an endless incline to that very neighborhood. So not fair.

We ran a few miles at 9:40. I didn't complain (pancakes), but I got really scared when I saw him grab his side. Fortunately, he was just clutching for his MP3 player, which had mysteriously turned itself off. Thank goodness. By that point, I knew we'd make it to the pancakes.

When Mile 12 arrived, Vick and I started chatting about pancakes and waffles. A lot. He wanted waffles with strawberries, whipped cream, and ice cream. I wanted chocolate-chip pancakes with syrup. All we had to do was make it for the next 1.1 miles. Which, for some completely insane reason (waffles) Vick decided to sprint.

Hey Broder! Here comes the MOST IMPORTANT PART!

With 0.1 miles to go, Vick decided we were going to run as fast as we could. At this point, that probably wasn't so fast. But we made it, and crossed the finish line together at 2 hours and 16 minutes (I officially beat him by 1 second according to official time).

As soon as we made it across the line, I looked up and saw... Broder and Jen! They had come to rescue us and magically transport us to the nearest IHOP. YAY! Broder and Jen to the rescue! Broder drove Vick's car, with our terribly stinky bodies, to the closest IHOP, then paid for our beautiful second breakfast. Broder and Jen are the awesome!

After this, we made a brief detour to my parents house, followed by ice cream and pizza. And that's the tale of our Worcester Half Marathon experience. Then end.