I am now a 13-time half-marathoner! Of the 13 I’ve done, only one has been run entirely in the rain: this year’s Hershey Half Marathon (Oct. 20).
I felt good going into this race. My training had been pretty solid, I’d had a good 12-miler, and I’d knocked nearly five minutes off my 6-mile times between Week 1 and Week 8 of training. Plus, last year I’d notched my best half marathon time in three years at Hershey, so I had hopes of continuing that progress.
There were two slight curveballs, though.
- Due to construction in Hersheypark, the route was going to be slightly different than it had been in the past. That wasn’t a biggie, though. I figured the changes would be minimal – and they were, all things considered.
- THE WEATHER. Temperatures for this race have ranged considerably over the years. I’ve worn everything from tank tops (and been too warm) to long-sleeved shirts (and been too cold). But I have never really encountered precipitation, aside from one year where it drizzled as we walked from the car to the corral. This year, though, the forecast showed rain. I wasn’t too concerned, as there had been rain in the weather report for many of my races – including my marathons – and the rain had never shown up as called for. Still, my pre-race preparations involved planning for rain, just in case. “It will be what it will be,” I thought.
The night before the race, I was in bed around 9:00. Mom was going to pick me up at 5:45 a.m., so I set my alarm for 4:30 so I could hit snooze a few times and still have plenty of time to get ready. That timing was perfect; Mom and I made it to Hershey ahead of schedule and had time to stop at the nearby McDonald’s to use the bathroom, as per tradition. (McDonald’s bathroom > portapotties at the race site)
When we got to the race site at 7:00-ish, we were directed into a parking lot that was VERY far away from the starting line. Still groggy, I was miffed because the distance was likely going to change my plan of coming back to the car to grab some layers after the race before watching Mom finish. Oh, well.
I checked my weather app yet again, and showed a 90% chance of rain throughout the morning. However, it wasn’t raining right then, so Mom and I opted not to wear our emergency ponchos to the corral. Rain or no rain, we were just going to ditch them once we started running anyway.
At 7:10, we left the car and began the trek to the starting line. Despite my misgivings about having to park so far away, it did feel nice to get our legs moving during the walk. We felt a few small raindrops, but nothing alarming.
When we reached the corral with about 10 minutes until race time, Mom pointed out an awesome rainbow behind us; it got brighter and brighter, and then we noticed that it was a full rainbow! I took a pic, which doesn’t fully do it justice:
We entered the corral, said our goodbyes to each other, and shimmied our way through the crowds to our respective starting points.
Waiting in anticipation of the start
Ready (kind of) to begin my 13th half!
This year’s race was the 10th annual, so organizers brought back the very first Miracle Kid, Sam, to help the MC kick things off. Sam, now a healthy teenager, shared some of his story and then started the race.
The starting line approaches!
It took a few minutes for me to cross the starting line, and it was starting to drizzle at that point; I was glad, as I’d opted to wear long sleeves and the light rain helped to cool me off. I hit 1 mile in 10:10, and I felt indifferent about it. On one hand, I had wanted to start a bit faster, but on the other hand, the first mile is always packed with people. I chose not to worry about it.
What I was a bit worried about, though, was the temperature. I was feeling pretty warm and wished that I’d gone with short sleeves. But then, a half-mile later, I was cold and felt glad that I had my long sleeves. I yo-yoed like this for a while every few tenths of a mile: too warm, then too cold, then too warm, then too cold.
After that first mile, my pace quickened as the crowd thinned out, and I was averaging under 10-minute miles. Around the 3-mile mark, we entered Hersheypark through a different entrance than we usually did due to construction. This, of course, threw off all the mile markers I was used to, so I tried to reset my brain since I was so used to their previous locations.
A few little treats in Hersheypark: A song my basketball team personalized for me played on my phone as I was running past a ride where a few of them had done planks as part of a team-wide plank challenge when they visited Hersheypark in the spring; that was a pretty cool unintended touch. Also, when I was finishing my loop around the park and Mom was starting hers, we saw each other and waved excitedly! I always look for people I know when the route loops back on itself, and seeing Mom gave me a boost!
My pace felt methodical and steady as I exited Hersheypark. Next up was the hill near the elk exhibit at ZooAmerica, and the scents did not disappoint. I was also aware this year, thanks to a recent visit to ZooAmerica with my dad, that I might be able to see the mountain lion! I looked for him, but I didn’t see him.
The rain was still coming down, and, although I still felt fine, I wondered if I’d end up feeling a bit chilly if it didn’t let up. (Spoiler alert: The answer, as it turned out, was YES.)
By the time I hit 5 miles, I was back to averaging 10-minute miles. I’d hoped to be going faster, but I told myself it was fine. I had to watch my footing because things were slick due to the rain, and I didn’t feel like I had as much pep as I’d hoped. I popped a Shot Blok on the way up the hill to mile 6, just in time for the water stop there. That hill gets me every time. Only the first part of it is visible, so it looks deceptively not as bad as it actually is. Then it levels out…and keeps going up. I lost a bit of time on it, as I always do, but I finally crested the hill and eventually made it to the halfway point in 1:05:31. If I somehow managed negative splits for the first time in my life, I’d have a chance to better last year’s time. It didn’t seem promising, though.
The rain was unrelenting and cold, and I was starting to struggle a bit. By the time we left the main road and started running toward the Milton Hershey School (MHS) campus, my struggles were even more pronounced. It didn’t help that my music decided to spaz. One song finished playing, and then it started again. “Weird, maybe I put it on here twice,” I thought. But then the song just stopped for a few seconds; when the music started again, it had rewound to the song that had played more than a mile ago. Then it stopped again and didn’t restart. I pulled my phone out of my SPIbelt and clicked the home button, which allowed the phone to tell me that it was disabled for some unknown reason and I’d be able to try again in one minute. So that’s what I did…and it worked fine the rest of the race (unlike my body, but hey). Technology is weird sometimes.
The struggles continued on the MHS campus, where the next 3 miles were laid out. I remember seeing the 8-mile banner way up ahead and thinking, “How are we not at mile 8 yet?” My pace continued to slow, even though the energy of the MHS kids raised my spirits.
OK, side note: It was cold and rainy and miserable outside, in case I haven’t emphasized that enough. But there were SO MANY kids from MHS lining the roads, cheering us on, holding signs, and giving high fives. Maybe they were as miserable on the inside as I was showing on the outside, but they never showed it. Way to go, kids!
At long last, I reached the 10-mile mark. I felt like I was barely moving, and I even muttered to myself out loud, “Why is this so hard today?”
Even though my body felt weak in some vague way that I wasn’t able to pinpoint, the struggle was more of a mental one as the miles went on. I became more and more aware of just how sopping wet I was from the rain. The rain mingled with sweat and dripped into my eyes, burning them. Oh, and my feet were super soggy. And, despite being in constant motion, I was cold. “I’m tired of being wet! I’m tired of being cold! I’m tired of doing this!” I mourned internally somewhere between miles 9 and 11. Of course, the only way to solve those issues was to keep running and finish the race – and then change into something dry.
The hill that leads out of the MHS campus and into downtown Hershey at mile 11 gets me every year. I felt like I kept a decent-for-me-at-that-moment pace this year, though, and recovered fairly well at the top. Next up was one of my favorite parts: the Chocolate Aid Station. Some years I predetermine how many pieces I’m going to take; this year I just decided to wing it. I ended up with four, which I stuffed into my SPIbelt. That caused the belt to fit uncomfortably, so after fiddling with it for a few tenths of a mile, I put two of the chocolates in the pocket in my pants. That fixed the issue, so I continued on.
Not surprisingly, the Miracle Mile (where kids receiving treatment at Penn State Hershey Children’s Hospital and their families cheer runners on) was sparsely populated due to the weather, but even just running along that section inspired me.
Still, my mind was on the nasty, winding hill that was coming up just after mile 12. In a twist for which I am most grateful, though, the course skipped that hill this year! Due to the construction at Hersheypark early in the race, the course had to be adjusted toward the end, so we were rerouted. No complaints from this tired, grumpy, drenched runner!
With less than a mile to go, I knew that the rest of the way would be primarily flat. There weren’t a lot of runners in the little cluster where I was at the moment, so I didn’t have a whole lot of help with my pacing – as if it even mattered at that point. Running along the pre-homestretch, which is a corridor lined with a white fence, I could hear runners who were already finished cheering us on. “Ha,” remarked one guy running near me. “Easy for them to be so optimistic. They’re done already!” True, true.
But at that point, grumpy and soaked as I was, I knew I was going to make it. After the corridor (where I missed Dad cheering us on, even though I was glad he hadn’t come along since he’d have had a miserable time spectating in the weather), all I had to do was run alongside the outer wall of the stadium, enter the stadium, and run about halfway around the track to the finish line. I paced myself accordingly.
As I was about to enter the stadium, a volunteer shouted, “You’re almost there!” Based on previous years, I knew I still had to run halfway around the track, but that would be a piece of cake at that point.
But – SURPRISE – as I rounded the corner into the stadium, the finish line was RIGHT THERE, not halfway around the track. I wish there was a video of me at that moment because I was absolutely shocked and confused. I did a textbook double-take, my head jerked backward in surprise, and my eyes bulged before my legs caught on and started churning faster. I was a bit miffed because if I’d known the finish line was going to be so close, I would have paced differently for the last little bit. But oh, well.
Arms moving, legs moving, and a horrible grimace on my face, I reached the finish line in 2:16:12.
Not my official time, but close enough. Groan…
It was not at all the result I’d trained for, so I definitely wasn’t elated. But I wasn’t too bummed, either, considering that I’d raced in epic conditions.
Once I crossed the finish line, I received my medal – a special 10th anniversary Hershey kiss shape – and grabbed the post-race goodies.
What finishing the race should have felt like…
…and what it actually felt like.
Moving as quickly as possible, I looped back around to the finish line to cheer Mom on.
I soon got pretty cold and wrapped in the foil blanket they gave us – once my cold, stiff fingers were able to remove it from its packaging. I jogged in place to warm up. After a little while, I saw Mom rounding the bend to enter the stadium. Knowing that she was expecting the finish line to be in its usual place, I started jumping up and down and shouting, “IT’S RIGHT THERE! IT’S RIGHT THERE!” while pointing. She got the idea and started booking it, finishing with a nice, strong pace!
I think she was ready to be done, too!
Go, Mom! Go!
We hugged, briefly shared what a struggle the race had been, and got a few pictures:
Glad to be done…
…and so, so chilled. But we did it!
Still enough energy for my traditional post-race jump, though
We were both tired of being cold and wet, so we walked the whole way back to the car to get our stuff. We were able to change in a nice, empty bathroom in the parking lot, which was PERFECT. And warm.
Dry and relatively warmed up, we hit Chocolate World and bought some cookies using a coupon we’d received in our packets, along with some delicious hot chocolate.
Then we headed toward home, Mom a nine-time half-marathoner and yours truly a 13-time half-marathoner.
Rocking our new race shirts!
Check out this incredible, witty sign my dad made us!
Maybe I didn’t get the results I wanted, but I can still bask – and am still basking – in the accomplishment that it is to run 13.1 miles 13 times and cross 13 finish lines. Until next time, Hershey!
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