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Inaugural Rock 'n' Roll Denver Half Marathon Race

It’s been nearly 5 weeks since I finished my second half marathon, the inaugural Rock ‘n’ Roll Denver Half Marathon, so it’s way past time to capture my thoughts on the race before I forget too many of them.

Before I get into the details of the race, I want to thank all of the volunteers, the spectators, the cheer squads, the bands, the organizers, and the city of Denver, as well as its citizens, for putting on and putting up with this event. This was one of the best run events I’ve participated in—those Competitor folks have this down to a science—and I’m seriously thinking about making this an annual destination race for myself. Finally, I can’t say enough about how much energy all of the spectators, cheer squads, and bands brought to the race! Without it, I very well might’ve missed my goal.

After getting up to Colorado a few days early, getting in a few runs, including one that shook my confidence to the core, when race day arrived, I was ready to go. Like usual, I woke up before my 4:30 AM alarm and began to get ready for the day. We were staying in a hotel downtown, so compared to some race mornings, this one was very relaxed. The first corral was set to go at 6:55 AM, with my corral (the 3rd) to follow a minute or two later, and since I had no desire to stand around unnecessarily, we didn’t leave the hotel until nearly 6:30. After a short walk/jog down the 16th St. pedestrian mall, we arrived at Civic Center Park, the epicenter for the race. With a quick kiss from Julie and Sam, I headed to the starting line, while they headed out on the course for their day of cheering.

After finding my corral, I jumped in at the very back, just ahead of the guy holding the rope that separated corral 3 from corral 4 (Cowtown Marathon organizers take note, and separate your corrals in 2011). We waited for the typical pre-race stuff—the National Anthem, some words from the race director, and then the 1st corral was released. The excitement in the air was palpable, and it wasn’t more than a minute or two before it was our turn. As I headed out on the course, I spotted Julie, who was doing her best cheering to get all of the runners going!

The first part of the course was slightly downhill, faster than I wanted, and wound around downtown, going past the Pepsi Center, through LoDo and by Coors Field, before finally heading east and over to City Park. As the course left downtown, we were greeted by a really fun hill, and by “fun” I mean sucked big time! I remembered this hill from my time working in downtown Denver—I had to walk down it and up it every day for a month and a half, while I lived in a corporate apartment that we’d soon be running past. It knew it was coming, but that didn’t matter. I’m just glad that the spectators were out in full force on the hill, because their cheering really helped.

Beyond the hill, the course continued through some cool looking neighborhoods, and within a block or two of the hospital where Jacob was born over 10 years ago. At this point I was feeling good, trying to keep the pace a little slower than what I would’ve run if not at altitude. The most challenging aspect of the early miles of the race was letting runners go. I was being passed left and right, and my instinct was to pick up the pace and go with them, but I was too afraid of blowing up 3 miles from the finish.

As we prepared to enter City Park, the sun finally announced its presence, and in a big way. Even with a visor and sunglasses, I found myself squinting and even ducking down some, just so I could see. The sun was absolutely blinding! The course through City Park was pretty average as far as parks go. It was pretty flat, and we just made a large loop. The one thing that I didn’t like was that we were able to see a long out and back stretch that we’d be hitting once we exited the park. Even worse was actually running this out and back section.

By the time I was headed back on the out and back section, I was 9 miles in, starting to feel pretty tired, but I was able to keep up my pace, and I knew that I’d finish the race. The only question remaining was would I be under 2 hours, and if so, by how much. In my training, I did a lot of my longer runs where I’d push the pace in the last few miles, working on running hard when fatigued, so I felt pretty confident.

As I neared mile 10, fatigue started to set in bad, and for the first time since the 2008 Buffalo Boogie, I walked in a race. This brief walk was at a water station and nearly unavoidable, as the person right in front of me stopped abruptly. However, I didn’t fight it. I got my drink, drank it, and then started up again, as quickly as I could.

It wasn’t long after this water stop that the course made a right-hand turn and begin slight downhill. No wonder I was so tired, I’d been running uphill for the last 1 1/2 miles! Unfortunately the downhill didn’t last long, as we turned into Cheesman Park, and up another hill. The course through Cheesman Park was very nice, and normally I’d really enjoy running through here, but I was getting so tired that I really couldn’t have cared less about the scenery. I was soon over the initial hill into the park, and on a very nice downhill section, which could only mean one thing, since we were doing a loop through the park—a nasty uphill was sure to follow. It did.

It was during this stretch of the race, miles 11 and 12, that I turned in 2 of 3 9:00+ miles: 9:21, and 9:02. I was hurting. I even considered walking up the nasty hill, but talked myself out of it, using the logic that walking would just make the hill take longer. Just past the top of the hill, as we exited the park, the half and marathon runners split, just before the mile 12 marker (thank goodness I was almost done!). At this point the course had us pointed west, catching glimpses of the mountains, downtown Denver, and best of all, it was downhill to the finish!

Still worried about blowing up before the end, I cautiously let my pace pickup on the downhill, slowly easing past some runners who I’d let go miles earlier. As I closed in on mile 13, there was one more obstacle—a great big downhill into downtown to match the uphill we faced leaving downtown. I didn’t know how my legs would hold up on such a steep downhill, but I gave it a go anyway. Before I knew it, I could hear the crowd roaring and I was making one last turn towards the finish line. At this point I felt like I was redlining and had nothing left to give. I was running to the finish stride for stride with a guy that I knew I should be beating, but I just couldn’t bring myself to kick. As we neared the finish line, I considered kicking one last time, but since he didn’t seem interested in kicking either, I eased up and finished at the same time.

I made my way to the people handing out the medals, and through the finishers’ area, and eventually to the family reunion area. It would be another 30 minutes before Julie and Sam would find me (thank you random person for letting me use your phone—I’m not sure Julie would’ve found me if I hadn’t been able to let her know exactly where I was). After our reunion, we found a nice patch of grass and relaxed under a clear blue sky, before making our way back to the hotel.

My official time for the race was 1:58:07, which is probably better than what I expected, but about in line with what I had hoped for. Adjusted for altitude, I supposedly ran the equivalent of a 1:52:30 half marathon at sea level. Not bad.

By Bryan at 10:55 AM , in Health and Fitness - Permalink
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