Cary Greenways Half-Marathon Recap

A Runner's Ramblings: Volume 20; 3rd Edition
52.4 miles run in 2025 races
Race: Cary Greenways Half-Marathon
Place: Wilmington, NC
Miles from home: 1212 miles
Weather: 65 degrees, 98 % humidity

 It is never fun to write recaps where the race experience wasn't fun.

Have to address one thing at the start of this recap. On the race website and at the start of the race on Sunday, a great deal of attention was paid to whether or not GPS is accurate in measuring a course. I agree that too many people do not understand about running the tangents of race course and when they end up with a half marathon that is say 13.22 they claim the race is long. However, I am very well versed in running the tangents and usually run near the front of a race where I don't have to run around anyone and can see exactly where I should run. Having designed courses and measured them myself, I know the path you should take. 

So when a race course comes up at 13.55 on my GPS I know it wasn't simply because GPS is inaccurate. Furthermore after going to such great lengths to deride the GPS is not being accurate enough, for the race website to then add that it's not USATF certified, it's a little hard not to think that the course is likely not accurately measured. And if the race is going to talk this much about it I'd like to understand exactly how they measured it so that I can feel that the course is at least marginally close to its stated distance. Now that's out of the way, let's move on to my recap

As I continue to try to race a marathon and a half marathon in every state before I turn 50, it's quite coincidental that after finishing the 50 States in the marathon 3 weeks ago in North Carolina that my next race had me back here in the Tar Heel state to cross off the half marathon.

I am unfortunately still dealing with some lingering muscle issues in my quad on one leg and on my calf and the other that have limited me to just 13 total runs in the last two months and that includes 3 separate races. It's a little bit frustrating after dealing with two knee surgeries and all that entailed for over 2 years to finally having about six months of progress until this January where I've had two months of stagnation or going backwards. But we play with the cards that have been dealt to us.

Race Morning:

I had gone from my Airbnb to where the race started the night before just to see how long it would take to get me there and I saw that it was a short drive. However parking was limited and as I was going to be facing a very tight window from finish to catching my flight I knew that I'd have to be down at the start earlier than I would like to be. With a race time of 8:00 AM I arrived a little after 7:00 AM and walked to go get my packet. This was an interesting experience to say the least.

As already noted with the course length discrepancy, there was just a lot that was odd about this race. For instance, I found out afterward I had been aged up in age groups to the 50-54 group so that it coincided with their race points system for multiple races. Hey, it is your race and you can do what you want but it was just odd.

When I went to get my packet I was asked for ID. With such a small race, I didn’t think this was necessary and had none on me. They asked if I had my phone. I said I left in my car as I was here to race and not take photos. I was told I needed it, so I walked back to my car and got it, about two blocks away.

I was feeling a little salty so when I approached the well-meaning volunteer, who I know was just doing her job, I put the phone down with a google search of my name that has about eleventy billion pictures of me including one, coincidentally wearing the exact same singlet I happened to be wearing that morning.

“Well, that’s a first for me”, she said and told me my race number. That might have been a little arrogant or annoying or what not but I just was sort of over it at that point.  Then a many wrote my number on a piece of scrap paer and handed it to me.  After that I had to walk down a hill to a pavilion where someone check my piece of paper, asked me for my name, then checked off my name. I was then directed to another table for my bib number where they double checked it to make sure it was right. Now, I appreciate the redundancy here but for the love of pete, can I just have my bib number? I was then give a chip to put on my shoes like this was 1997 or something. I was beginning to feel like there was some sort of candid camera thing going on. But I fixed it to my shoes and walked back out of the pavilion and up the hill and back to sit in my car until it was about time to go to the race.

We lined up for the start which was done by runners getting into a single file lane and waiting until the person at the start read off your number and away you went. There was number rhyme or reason to this line anyone could line up in any order that they wanted. This was done because the start and most of the race was done on an open to the public narrow path. Suffice it to say before I even took my first step this was an interesting day.

First 5k:

As I have not run once in well over a week since I was given some muscle relaxants and some cream to put on my muscles to try to soothe them into feeling better I had no idea what the first couple of steps of this race was going to feel like. I was mildly relieved that I wasn't in too much pain but also quite irked that there was still something wrong with my quad for sure. As the race started and immediately left a parking lot to go down a rooted dirt path I was quite trepidatious about how my leg was going to hold up.

By the time I had gone more than a tenth of a mile I had passed about four people in front of me. Another tenth and I was now in about 8^th place overall. I could tell this was going ot be very unique in trying to figure out what actual place I was in by the end of it all.

After this biggest downhill of the race (which would then be the biggest uphill literally feet before the finish) we were shot out onto a running path wit ha few twists and turns around a park entrance,  through a field, down a hill and then back up a long sloping hill to the high point of the race, all before mile 2.  I had two guys pass me and passed two more in front of me.  

As we approached the turn around for those running the 10k, which I noticed already had me at 3.33 miles (not a good sign), I had run a 7:41, 8:15, and 7:47.  Not what I was hoping for but given all the circumstances of my leg, the ridiculous humidity, the not-so-great for racing course, I was pleased. This would have me run around a 1:42 half which I would have taken on this day.

To the turn around:

I was in a little no man’s land for the next two miles as I ran with no one in sight in front of me and I couldn’t hear anyone coming up from behind. I was surprised when my 4^th and 5^th miles were 8:02 and 8:17 as I felt I had picked up the pace.  Then in quick succession three men passed me. I could tell that this was the beginning of the end.

My 6^th mile, as the leaders of the race passed me heading in the opposite direction was a 8:53 and I knew I was cooked. I have written on many occasions how I have Gilbert’s Syndrome, which annoys me to no end is often classified in Wikipedia articles as harmless. Any doctor who I have talked to said that while normally harmless, GS rendering those who are pushing themselves hard in an athletic event rather useless on occasion is far from harmless. I guess in the “if you stop exercising and rest, it won’t hurt you further” way, it doesn’t cause any damage per se. But when you are running a half-marathon or something akin to that, the affect is quite debilitating.

As I turned around to head back, I could see an onslaught of runners on my heels ready to overtake me.

 To mile 10:

Almost immediately I had three runners pass me. Then another. Then another. I ran nearly 9 minutes for my 7^th mile and couldn’t believe how badly I was slowing.  As the next few runners passed me, I would try to keep up with them and that would simply pull me along for a few seconds before falling back again, as is shown by a 8:50 for my 8^th mile.

Right after my 8^th mile, an extremely tan woman passed me and I was determined to stay with her. I noticed she had a long scar on her spine and later learned she had been in a serious cycling accident a few years ago. I couldn’t stay with her and she too disappeared from my sight. (I see she set a PR but won’t name her as she didn’t have her pictures on the race website and appears to wish to remain private.  But if she sees this, congrats on your new half-marathon PR!)

I found that no matter how hard I tried, each person that passed me would soon follow suit and quickly disappear out of sight.  My first mile over 9 minutes hit with the 9^th mile and I could only watch as I continued to bleed time.

A 9:09 followed for my 10^th mile and I had to take a small walk break. I had nothing left in me. Drenched in sweat, leaving wet footprints behind me, I was a mess.

Onto the Finish:

Other than the steep finish, the next mile was the toughest as we began a slow steady incline. I was playing cat and mouse with this one young lady who would pass me, come to a walk, and then I would slow jog by her.  Then we would repeat this. At least four times we did this until finally with two miles left, she left my sight and I wouldn’t see her again.

There were multiple times we had to cross roads which were not closed to traffic.  As we hit the last major one with two miles to go, I was actually hoping the police officers would stop me and left the traffic go.  But as they continued to hold the cars, I had to keep running, much to my chagrin.

I ran down what was the biggest downhill left, hoping it would spur me on to some sub 9-minute miles.  It did not.

Now I was looking at the clock and the mileage and realizing that the course was going to be about a half mile long. At my current pace that was another 5 minutes. Holy crap, am I going to run over two hours for this half?!

I put my head down and began ushing with all I had which was not much.  I hit the 13^th mile in 9:19 and saw I was no where near the finish. I still had a field to run through, a small hill to climb, a path to cross and then the steep uphill finish over the exposed roots. I looked at my watch as I finally hit the pavement and more or less threw myself across the finish:

1:59:56. My worst half-marathon finish ever where I wasn't also carrying a canoe.

Four people are listed to have been in front of me time-wise in the minute before two hours but none of them were actually there. Obviously they finished behind me but started further back time-wise. Quite an odd arrangement for a race seemingly so concerned with results that I got aged up to 50-54. (Coincidentally, I was 2^nd in both this age group and the one I am actually in. I tried to inform the race so another person in the 50-54 age group would have a podium finish but that was when I learned of their different award system.  Oh well!)

I sat down to get my chip taken off and then had to walk back down the hill to the pavilion to chose my finisher’s medal out of three choices: another first for me in over 400 races run. I now had less than 90 minutes to get back to my car, drive to my Airbnb, shower, drive to the rental car place, take the shuttle to the airport and somehow still make my flight. With all the TSA nonsense going on (fuck Trump and every Trump supporter. If this bothers you, good.) I was almost certain to miss my flight, with the next one home being 7 hours later if I could get on it.

Fortunately for me, while they were obviously set up to handle an onslaught of travelers by how I had to walk back and forth through 9 lanes of roped off lines, there was virtually no one in front of me. I made it to my plane with 9 minutes to spare.

Then my body shut down. Sitting on the plane was almost too much for me to handle. I was certain I was going to lean on the seat in front of me in order to keep from passing out. Fortunately, my Glibert’s abated and I was able to keep upright. I finally found a semi-comfortable position in spite of the large person next to me continuing to encroach on my space as they knitted away. I was too tired jam in elbow into their haunch and too happy to be on my flight to cause any further ruckus.

I now have three weeks until my next half-marathon.  Then I have another the next day. Then another four days later. I can’t say I feel these are going to go too well.  But somehow, three weeks ago, I goth through my first marathon in three years rather smashingly.  Hopefully I can have the same good luck as I knock out, Louisiana, Arkansas and Missouri in a week.

Then do it all over again in Hawaii a week after that. Egads.