It was not so simple. I would be unfair in telling otherwise.
It was very exciting, for sure. It was funny, indeed, and even personally meaningful, if I may say it.
But it was also dramatically difficult and terribly unexpected.
Anyway, this is the chronicle of my first Half Marathon:
Starting Line: I can’t see it, but it is certainly somewhere in front of me. The starting grid is plenty of people, GPS are beeping, a lot of muscles are warming up and thousands of running shoes are ready to eat the road in front of us. I have three glucose packs in my pockets. I am pretty sure I will avoid hypoglycemia this time. I hope. The last blood sugar test was 223 mg/dl; a little too high, I know, but I felt more comfortable like that.
BANG. The cannon roared. I am already running but I have not seen yet that line everybody is talking about.
1st km: after crossing the starting line we are all floundering like trapped tunas. I don’t want to fall. There is too much traffic.
2nd km: a blind guy is running few steps next to me. The blind guy falls because another runner cut his way. I want to help him. People are shouting.
5th km: my partial time is 28m11sec. I am running perfectly, as I planned. I feel the pace is the right one. I am satisfied so far…
7th km: my wife and my 2 years old daughter are waiting for me along the race. I am happy. Kissing them it’s like drinking at the freshest water spring in the world. They are my purest breath. I love them. I restart my race plenty of energy.
8th km: I swallow the first glucose pack, for precaution. I really begin to enjoy the race and to get into the competition.
10th km: 54m59sec. Still keeping a good pace…
12th km: the race is getting tougher. But every step is a step less to the end. Just keep running man, I say to myself. Just keep going. Just look forward.
14th km: I swallow the second glucose pack. Now I know I will need that sugar, very soon.
15th km: 1h 22m 12sec. I share a bottle of water with runners around me.
17th km: now I feel my pace is dropping down. I can’t keep running as faster as before.
18th km: I can sense the Hypoglycemia waiting for me around the next corner. That bastard is coming for me, once more! My knees are beginning to move uncoordinatedly. I start feeling like a puppet. I immediately swallow every drop of the third glucose pack. The last one… why didn’t I bring with me one more pack?! Am I completely crazy???
19th km: I run like a drunk turtle. People around are supporting me. I am looking forward to the last refreshment point. I dream about a GatoradeFall!
20th km: just one kilometer more. Plus 97 meters, obviously. I can smell the finish line. A lot of runners are overtaking me. I am panting. I am clearly suffering.
21,097 km: I cross the finish line. I did it in 1h56min. I am so hungry, I am so thirsty. Give me some supply! I feel so terribly happy.
I must really say I loved that half marathon, the first of my life… But…
Next time I will be wiser and I will bring with me at least 4/5 glucose packs; next time I will not be out of sugar stock. Next time I will beat the upcoming hypoglycemia. Next time, I hope.
Next time I will finish in a better timing. I promise!