Race Report: Covered Bridges Half Marathon

The group was all smiles before the race.

The Covered Bridges Half Marathon was going to be MY race. I picked the perfect course—fairly   My four long training runs were the strongest I’ve ever had in training.  I hydrated for three days in advance and was careful in my diet to build up carbs but avoid sugars. I picked out the perfect outfit (purple of course). For the first time in two years, I felt like I had a chance at a PR. But Mother Nature threw me a curve ball: a heat wave.

flat, with idyllic scenery.

I spent most of the ride to Vermont the day before the race watching the car temperature climb—90, then 93, then 95. I am slightly accustomed to running in heat thanks to having to train on weekends spent in Vegas, but not at all acclimated to running in humidity. On paper, it was in the mid 70s when the race started, but without a cloud in the sky and near 100% humidity, it felt significantly warmer.  

By the first water stop, I knew just finishing was going to be a struggle. My leg muscles were swollen from the heat and already feeling tight. I could feel my heart racing and started to feel a bit light-headed.  I said goodbye to my dream of a 2:05 finish and I quickly switched to survival mode—walking through water stops every two miles so I could grab two cups of water, walking for a minute whenever I felt my heart rate get too high or got chills, and overall, just trying to enjoy the opportunity to have such a beautiful run instead of worrying about time.  It took me a good mile to get over the disappointment, but once I stopped worrying about time, the miles began to melt away. I crossed the finish line at 2:19:19—over a minute faster than my prior time on the CBHM course.  

My reward for a job well done.

[The race did end up being a PR in terms of the quality of bacon consumed post race. Thick, local cob smoked bacon is so delicious you will want to move to Vermont and get a farm with a golden retriever just so you can eat it every weekend. But I digress.]

Every mile of this race was one of the most hard-fought for miles I have run in my life (rivaled only by the last 10 of the Boston Marathon). But they were also some of the most worth it. The course truly is beautiful—it weaves through the adorable classic New England town of Woodstock, over a covered bridge, past some farmlands (first time I have ever been cheered on by a cow), and then winds along the Ottauquechee River to the Quechee Gorge. (first time I have ever been cheered on by a guy in a kayak). After so much training in New York City, running in the quiet countryside was a huge treat. Numerous bands played along the course (and unlike the Rock and Roll races, these bands were actually good). I particularly appreciated the brass band at Mile 10—brass bands always remind me of my grandmother (a trumpet player), and thinking of her strength in life motivates me.

I also learned an important lesson: sometimes pushing through an obstacle (heat, injury, emotions, etc.) is more of an accomplishment than a time PR. I am proud of myself for understanding my body and the science of running well enough to know what to do to get myself through the tough conditions. I am happy with how strong I felt during the parts I did run despite the bad weather. I am proud of myself for balancing a long distance relationship and long distance running and for getting my training runs in despite constant jet lag.  In training for this race, I put myself in a position to take on a goal I have had for the past two years—running the New York City Marathon. 

So, I better figure out how to run in heat and humidity. Training for New York starts 4 weeks from tomorrow, and it’s not getting colder any time soon.