Race Report: Darwin's plan to weed out the idiots dumb enough to enter these things

I recently decided that as I've gotten back into running that I should get motivated and join up for some races. The air is nice here in Amsterdam - very few cars as most are on bikes and you can always depend on the fact that the weather is going to pretty much suck for summer so my asthma won't go into itss usual seize up scenarios as it did in lovely 105 degree humid DC.

I got a little too excited by the idea of entering races and signed myself up for the half marathon on Oct. 21st. Not full on 26 miles, but 13 is not for the faint of heart. Probably fine for the natural runner types but let's face it - I am NOT a natural runner. Sure I plod along trying to make sure my form is ok, am not flailing my arms around, etc but generally this body was built for comfort not for speed.

I decided that leading up to the 1/2 marathon I should enter some training races. The much talked about Damloop seemed perfect! A popular 10 mile race from the center of Amsterdam to the center of Zaandam. Loads of crowds, people join for both competition and as many would say to me for "fun runs."

{OK - Let me digress on the idea of the "fun run" for a minute. What the hell is that? You see the brochures of runners going along smiling looking like they've just stepped out of an air conditioned room and feeling fantastic. lies. #1 I look something like a cherry tomato while running and #2 I don't EVER actually have "fun" while running. I'm not striding along going - "Oh my god this is fantastic! Susan aren't you having fun?" Who runs like that?! Answer - nobody they're all friggin liars that just say that to get you to join so they can point and laugh as you are eating pavement praying for death.}

So two colleagues from work and I join up for the Damloop being fully duped by the promise of fun. But we all are in the spirit that it's good training for the upcoming marathon event and that we are just running for finishing not time. After all it'll be cool, nice, flat - all the things Holland is known for. The weather has been in the low to mid 60s as a high for the past 2 months and as I run at 6am most mornings my training temperature has been hovering in the mid to high 50s. If there is one thing you can count on in good old Amsterdam is the consistency of shit weather.
Sunday arrives and low and behold we get the ONE nice day we've had in months with temperatures reaching upward of 74 degrees (add 4 or so degrees for running on black asphalt and there you have the cauldron of death we ran in on Sunday.) Also apparently the Dutch believe running should be done at the peak of the day instead of in the morning. All races I've ever been in or to have started at 7 or 8am. no no no. Here in Amsterdam they start at 10 for the professionals and noon or 2pm for the non-professionals! After this event I am convinced that the race organizers are in bed with the port-o-potty people. Nothing like a nice 4 hours of nerves to demand extra toilets.

So Michelle, Iris and I were all lined up at the start among the throngs of 35,000 other runners nervously awaiting the start gun. There was a lot of excitement in the group and full on band of Scottish bagpipers to psych us up! (interesting choice.) CRACK! the gun goes off and we all immediately race off! no, we stand there. Come on - 35,000 people you're not moving at the first gunshot. It actually takes only a few minutes of walking forward before we cross the start line and begin the slow trot picking our way through the sea of stop and start runners. The course takes us immediately through the tunnel which was a fascinating commentary on social behavior. There we all were not 3 minutes ago standing at the start line together, nervously laughing and saying good luck. Then as soon as this merry group gets under the cover of darkness in the tunnel it becomes Death Match 3 - packs of wild dogs running over each other throwing elbows, tripping, trying to "neutralize" the weak. I apparently had "WEAK" stamped on my forehead.

I started off the run and by the time I'd come out of the tunnel (a.k.a the Gauntlet) I was sweating like I"d already completed the 10 miles and was SOOO hot though I was going to die! It was nearly 18 degrees hotter than what I'd been training in so of course my body was immediately saying "F this we're outta here." The first 3 - 5K i really didn't know if I was going to be able to finish this race! My breathing was really rough - asthma was already acting up, and I felt like I was taking the Old Man Shuffle stride to a whole new level of slowness. I felt like this for the whole first 10K of the race but I have to say what kept me going was that I had invited 3 friends over for dinner and could not bear to think about having to report that I didn't finish!

By the 10K mark though I actually was in some trouble with my asthma. Not like I'd experienced before. I always have problems breathing while running but I deal with it. This day I wasn't able to control it at all and realized I wasn't getting any air in or out so as full on panic set in and dizziness started I spotted the medical tent. I swayed in there and took in the vision of about 10 people on make shift beds in varying states of heat exhaustion. I gasped "asthma!" to one of the attendants who immediately sat me down. After assessing that the emergency inhaler wasn't going to do it he told me to tilt my head back, open my throat and "try to relax". There's something about a plastic tube filled with inhaled steroids being shoved down your throat that at first is scary but then makes you feel like a rock star. I stayed there getting the breathing treatment for about 8 or so minutes and then felt really good! (WEAK MY ASS!) I got back out into the race and now sufficiently filled with what would surely classify as doping drugs I managed to run the rest of the race and make up some time.

It wasn't until now that I paid attention to the people standing on the sidelines cheering us on. Actually most were tauntingly having BBQs and raising their wine glasses to us in support. Definitely more your "Lovey and Thurston Howel" style of supporter. Thankfully many of the townspeople took pity on us for how hot the day was and provided hose showers as we ran by. Still feeling like an overheated car engine I ran under 100% of those things and managed to look like I'd just emerged from the deep for the last part of the race.

I rounded the 15K mark and was so excited I was almost at the end! I had so little left in me relief doesn't even describe the feeling! I saw the giant blow up arch, the photographer on the crane getting everyone's photos as they crossed and the people in front of me raising their arms in victory as they strode across the chip mat. I dug deep and gave it all I had running flat out for the finish and even managed to raise my head and smile for the camera! ....wait....
wait...
wait...
WHY IS EVERYONE STILL RUNNING?!?!!?

JESUS !*#!&$(*#&$(*! That wasn't the finish line?! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

(below: me smiling like an idiot thinking i was done!)

We had a FULL 600 meters to go still!! At that moment even more than when I thought I was suffocating I wanted to cry and sit down. But the crowd was great and I managed to keep going to the finish. My official time was 1:40 (with medical tent visit :) So i'm guessing around 1:32

That night I was VERY happily able to report to dinner guests Mark, Ann and Jeff (who all have been fantastic cheering sections) that I did in fact finish the race! And then proceeded to eat everything in sight.

A few rest filled days later and I'm gearing up to do the 13 miles on Oct. 21st. I plan on running encased in a temperature and steam controlled plastic bubble.