Finish line cameras always capture the worst of a runner. We’re tired and just want to finish. I still don’t know why my tongue is doing there. Image courtesy Bloomsday run and Chronotrack, who gracefully have allowed us to freely access and share high-quality images for repost.

In 2009, I completed my first Bloomsday. It took me an hour and 24 minutes. I steadily improved my time in 2010 and 2011. But then the improvements stalled. In 2011, running from green, I finished the race in 1:11:27. The following years weren’t really any better, 1:11:55 and 1:11:25, respectively.

This year, I wasn’t sure I would be able to keep the streak alive. I woke up with a raging sinus headache and had trouble breathing. Several minutes in a hot shower helped, but the headache didn’t really go away until I used the marvels of modern medicine. OK, Sudafed and Tylenol aren’t all that modern, but still. In the end, I decided that even if my time was terrible it was better to try and fail than to not try at all.

Needless to say, I had low expectations. When I was asked “What do you want to do?” by a very capable runner (she finished in under 54 minutes), my response was a simple “I want to finish.” I was frustrated and down on myself.

I didn’t really feel any more confident until about 5 minutes before the gun. My headache was gone, I could breathe clearly, and I had no pressure. I just had to finish. So at 9:05, off we go. I didn’t try to pass anybody, I just hung in the crowd and let it pull me along. It was moving at about a 9 minute pace, a little faster than I would prefer, but doable. I figured I’d just keep going as long as I could hold it up. My good friend Jim Ekins was keeping with me, with his own excuses (“I drank too much yesterday”). It was great encouragement to run with somebody you know along with 46000 of your best friends for a day. At mile 3, I’m still going. Mile 4. Still going. Doomsday. “I’ll walk this,” I told Jim, and he wished me luck and headed up the hill ahead. But I didn’t walk. I was slow, but I never stopped “running.”

Top of Doomsday and I’m still going! Well hell, I’ve only got 2 and a half to go. Let’s see what happens. Hrm. There’s the Darth Vader corner. I’m ok! Mile 6… and the penultimate corner on to Broadway shortly after. I can see the courthouse in the distance, I just have to keep going.

And so I do, at a slow and steady 9 minute pace. I’ve got this! The Mile 7 marker appears near Maple Street and I start to really relax. At Jefferson Street, I accelerate, turning the corner on to Monroe just as Eye of the Tiger starts to play from Milford’s Fish House.

Perfect.

And after a day that started with such low expectations? A new PR of 1:08:16. I wasn’t happy. I was ecstatic. I had given up on the artificial 1:10 barrier last year. Sure, when many of my friends are finishing in well under an hour, a 1:08 time isn’t special. But it’s special to me and that’s all that matters to me. For now.

Next year, we’ll see what happens.