What was I thinking ? 2007 Country Music Half Marathon

by Kurt Herron
(Nashville TN)

There is a lot of preparation that goes into a sporting event, in this case a race, – planning, training, praying. This run introduced me to a new kind of preparation, the preparation of H. Yes, oh yes, I developed hemorrhoids. Now if you have ever had these things, you know how much they can hurt. If you have never had them, I would not recommend running as a remedy. (That was about as stupid as the time I got into the Pro Wrestling ring with cracked ribs.) Anyway, enough about my new found friends. You want to know about the 2007 Country Music Half Marathon!

I was about as unprepared for this race as any in my life. In fact, I was actually scared. I usually hope to make it to the finish line. With this particular race, I was just hoping to make it to the starting line. You see, I not only had Super-Charged Hemis (as Harvey calls them), I had a mild case of Poison Oak on both arms, a sty on my eye that would not allow me to wear my left contact for a few days, and I had my left big toe “operated” on, on Valentines Day. So now you get an idea of why it was such an accomplishment just to make it to the starting line on race day.

April 28, 2007, I get up at 3:45 am. I arrive at Centennial Park about 5:00 in a little rain then by 6:00 the weather was perfect. I am surprised
at how good I feel. We start the race at 7:00. Everything seems to be p-e-r-f-e-c-t. We are about 5 miles into the race back in the neighborhood and I am still amazed at how good I feel.

However, I run through some kind of pollen and my eyes start watering and I start sneezing. My nose starts running something terrible – then bleeding. I am starting to struggle now. My 10K (6.2 miles) time is 1:04:53. A little faster than I expected but I still feel good except for the sinuses.

Somewhere past the 10K mark, I am really coughing. It finally gets so bad that I get to a parking lot and fall down on all fours, gagging, trying to get this out of my throat. A male runner stops and asks if I am ok. I look up with tears running down my face and explain my situation. He pulls off a water bottle from his belt and offers me a drink. This guy is a life saver because there is no water station anywhere close. The other thing that is wrong with this is that I started in corral 8. Based on this guy’s number, he started in corral 14, meaning that I had at least a 10 minute head start.

Guess that proves the theory that moving objects are faster than stationary objects. Some spectators see what’s happening and bring me some water from the store of whose parking lot I am using as a kneeling pad. Now you are suppose to be careful of what you take from spectators. But at this point I don’t care. They can have Jim Jones Kool-Aid or whatever. I just don’t care. I drink up and sit for a moment. I thanked the people and went on my way. At the 7 mile mark, I look at my watch and see that it took me 19 minutes to run that one mile. Now let me put this into perspective for you all. You have to run an 18:30 average to stay in the race. 18 minutes and 30 seconds. I am now 30 seconds slower than the slowest WALKER. My reputation of being slow is saved but my problems were just beginning.

During my kneeling session, my super-charged hemis became turbo-charged hemis, the burning, the itching, the scratching, THE PAIN. I can now speak from experience and I can tell you, I don’t want to ever get pregnant. Another thing turbo-charged hemis do is make you feel like you need to hit the port-a-potty when you really don’t. So I was fighting this urge as well. Don’t laugh, it gets worse.

I have resigned myself to the fact that this is going to be a long and painful race. In fact, I was contemplating on dropping out. I have finished every race I have ever started and never thought about quitting – until now. But part of life is adapting to your circumstances and surroundings. So now I have a new game plan: run until I get tired and then walk. I prepare my ego that I will be walking a lot more than running for the next 6 miles.

We pass mile 10 and turn up 8th Avenue which takes us by Farmers Market. This is the split for the marathon and half marathon. I hear a volunteer say “Kentucky Fried Chicken at mile 11”. K-F-C. Wow. My mouth starts watering and I am plotting my plan to get a bite. I am deep in this thought when I hear, “hey mister, sir, mister eight-nine thirty-two.” I say, “Hey, that’s my number”. I look over and beside me is this homeless guy – running - up the hill - backwards so he can face me.

Now I have been beaten by 75 year old women, 80 year old men, 10 year old kids, women pushing strollers, guys running with dogs, just about everything you can imagine. But I have never been beaten by a homeless guy - running backwards. I know I am not the fastest guy on the course, but despite my 19 minute mile a little earlier, you can’t make me believe that I am the slowest runner left, so how is this happening?

He asks if I have a cigarette. Now folks, I don’t know what this clown was thinking but I know what I was thinking. He must have seen the expression on my face and quickly asked if I had any money. Now I am hurting and tired and not living a perfect life right now. So I don’t have much tolerance for this. Before I thought, I yelled back “No, but I have a suppository! You want that?” Now that’s not something you hear everyday - a runner yelling he’s got a suppository. That’s just not something usually on the checklist before a race. And I’ll bet you a million dollars you can’t name one single person who has run a race carrying one…. now you can.

We have moved on and are going up 4th Avenue. A little over a mile left. Now ladies and gentlemen, I won’t lie. I look terrible. I feel worse. My toe is now 3 times it’s size and bleeding. I don’t know what is happening on my posterior. I have scratched the scabs off my poison oak and my hands and arms are bleeding. My nipples are bleeding from the rubbing of my shirt. My fever blister is bleeding and my nose is still seeping blood from the sinus problem. The sty on my eye is irritated and making my eye swell slightly. Plus sweat is dripping into both eyes which makes them burn. The more I wipe them, the more sweat gets in them and the more they burn. This is on top of the normal aches and pains of running – or walking just short of 13.1 miles. I have run many marathons, half marathons, 10 milers, and races in general. I don’t believe I have ever been in such a mess. I know I have never felt so much pain during a race before.

I am now ½ mile from the Promised Land and can see the stadium. I start running for one last time. As I get closer, the crowd gets larger and
louder. Adrenaline kicks in and I can taste success. One tenth of a mile to go and I am feeling it. I may get beat by Eddie George, The Beatles, 2 Super Girls, one guy dressed as a Fairy, one guy in a purple feather wig, one guy dressed as Minnie Pearl, and countless Elvis’s. But I AM GOING TO FINISH. Keith Urban is jamming us home. I cross the finish line and my
legs are hurting so bad now that I don’t want to stand. But my badonkydonk is hurting so bad that I don’t want to sit. How in the world am I going to get home?

My time was 2 hours 43 minutes and 53 seconds. My worst time ever but I guess I shouldn’t be too upset. After all, I was carrying a couple of stowaways.

If you have read any of my previous accounts, you know that I always try to take a lesson out of each race that I can use towards bettering
my life. The only lesson I can come up with in this race is: No matter how good it sounds, don’t run with hemis!