The Broad Running Broad

There’s a line said by the villain Vivian in 1999’s “Au Pair” that seems to describe the past week and a half leading into the race: “Life is full of little surprises.”

Are those surprises Vivan speaks of ever about winning the lottery or finding a basket full of kittens on your doorstep? No, of course not, because why would life ever be that wonderful.

About a week before my race I got a nice ache in my left hip flexor that’s still with me. It tends to be at its worst first thing in the morning when I get out of bed and calms down if I’m standing, walking or running. However, when it first came on it came on quickly and the pain was sharp enough I decided to take a few days off from running. This coincided with a long run Saturday where I was originally planning to run 16 miles. This didn’t happen – if I weren’t racing the following weekend I’d be willing to chance aggravating my hip, but since this was the weekend before the Air Force Half, I decided to err on the side of safe rest.

Then it was Friday, my day off work to travel home. The Air Force Marathon is local to where I grew up, so I spent the night with my folks and used the weekend as time to visit them. The plan was that Mom would get up bright ‘n early with me, we’d drive down to the base like we did back in 2018, and she’d hang out while I ran. Seems straightforward enough.

The Air Force Half Marathon recap

…. Ok, there’s no nice way to put this, and since we’re all grown ups here, I’m just going to go ahead and say it:

There’s nothing worse than getting up early and no matter how well you try to time it, the urge to poop hitting right after you leave your house and there’s no gas station bathroom in sight.

Mom hitting every pothole on Route 4 also didn’t help matters. Nor did trying to maneuver the roads around the base to get into the base grounds and get parked.

The race website said there’s roughly a mile between the field where everyone was parking and the start line. If I had to try and get to the start line without a port-a-John stop I wouldn’t have made it and this would be a very different – likely disgusting and hilarious, if you too have a juvenile sense of humor – post. Thankfully there were port-a-Johns by the parking lot and the line was moving quickly.

It didn’t make me feel better afterwards though. Nobody feels better when it’s race day and you know part two can likely strike when you don’t want it to.

The corrals were crowded and initially I couldn’t find the start. My wave went out before I got into the corral, so I wound up wandering a bit by the barricade towards the start. An airwoman spotted me, confirmed the corral I was supposed to be in and sent me on my way. This is the first race where I’ve ran out without being elbow-to-elbow with another runner, and it was actually pretty nice. I don’t want to repeat the rushed, gotta-find-a-bathroom-or-else feeling. but not having to break away from a crowd? I can get used to that.

Allow me to be a bit lazy and offer a breakdown of the course via bulletpoint. Without further adieu, here’s the recap of the half.

Mile 1 – a gigantic hill that sucked, quite frankly.

Mile 2 and 3 – nice downhill and flat stretch through Huffman Prairie and the Historic Huffman Flying Field. This stretch was calm, shaded and a nice recovery from the hill on Mile 1. I was able to relax here.

Mile 4 – Throughout the expo I saw signs about the wear blue Mile, which I figured was a memorial mile for fallen service members. This was Mile 4, and I found myself getting emotional reading the posters and ribbons of those who lost their lives during combat or their active duty years. There were a lot of service members who passed away extremely young – 20, 21 and 22 were common ages. As someone about 10 years older than quite a few of those who were killed in action -and I’m not that old myself – they were just so, so young. I don’t say this to sounds condescending or infantilizing, but the ages bothered me and served as a humbling reminder.

Mile 5 – the bigass hill on Route 844 leading to Wright State University. Back in 2018 this was Mile 8, so I was expecting this hill a little later on. I’m actually glad it came up earlier, since I was tired but not completely spent yet so I could climb it a little easier.

Miles 6 through 10 – I’ll be honest, this stretch through Wright State’s campus was a bit of a blur. I didn’t realize this part of Ohio was that hilly, and it turns out my hill work on the trails didn’t prepare me quite like I thought it would. But I felt good while I was running, and my pace didn’t feel like it was as slow as my watch said it was. I’ve been on some runs where the miles dragged on, and they were miserable. This time I felt peaceful and alive.

Miles 11 to the finish – the final push through Area B of the base back towards the finish line at the Air Force Museum was emotional, thinking back to the last time I ran the Air Force Half in 2018. Back then it was hot, humid and the race was black-flagged not too long after I finished. This morning was the opposite – beautiful, full of promise and joy. The finisher’s chute was calling for me, and I pulled deep. I knew I wasn’t going to PR, but I didn’t care. I was ready to get my medal and be reunited with my mom.

But first, I had to have my “drop in the ocean” moment running under all of those fighter planes. The finish line takes runners under the wings of the various Air Force planes, which brings home that reminder that in the grand scheme of life, I’m pretty small and of no great significance. Those beautiful marvels eclipse all of us, and at the same time, they serve as a reminder of what humans can build and accomplish.

That’s the spirit of the Air Force Marathon – you can accomplish what you set out to do, but you’re definitely going to feel what you’ve earned once you’re done running. There’s nothing more satisfying than walking through the chute, an airman shaking your hand, and putting a medal around your neck.

Challenge accepted, and challenge overcome.

And so Reader-friends, that wraps up the 2023 Air Force Half Marathon. It wasn’t the PR from 2018 I was hoping for – I finished in 2:36 and was gunning to get under 2:25 – but frankly, I don’t give a damn. I felt great, my hip was working with me, and the pride is something I haven’t felt in a long time. I’m calling this a win.

Yours in running and life,

Allison