i've been running halfs for a while — i started 15 years ago, but i've only run 14, because i do one a year, and, you know, the pandemic. so i didn't run any in 2020-21. but for the last ten i've been doing this small town one. i first tried it on a lark, because my city's half felt way too big (plus, running on concrete meant that i seemed to be getting weird injuries at the race every other year). and this one does feel smaller; and nicer: the course going out of the town, east for three miles, past corn fields and sunflowers until the south turn into the hills, which is when it really gets hard.
there's a first, gradual hill, and you feel it. a slow burn. but easy peasy. then at the top you look forward, and a couple hundred feet away there's a hill that rises for at least a hundred feet with a brutal gradient. this is the worst hill of the course, but there are more to come. that said, once you hit the halfway point, it gets easier, the last few miles being a wonderful downhill descent past grain bins and farmland (and today, cows). last year i hit the wall 10 miles in. the descent couldn't save me. this year, everything felt good, and while official times aren't up, a quick phone-check in my car after the race suggests i knocked at least five minutes off last year's time.
not a personal best, not a course best, but i'm older, and heavier again, so i'll take it. the weather was perfect. low teens, no wind, just a perfect day for a (very long) run.
on the way home, sipping the last of the water i brought with me, i turned on the radio. in concert with paolo pietropaolo, which i enjoy, but really only listen to once a year, as i make the annual drive home. a full performance of bruckner 9. then, new music for two violas. i set the cruise control, and cranked the volume.