Tel Aviv Half Marathon

My excitement leading into this trip was off the charts. It turned out to be everything I could have hoped for. I had quality bonding time with friends and family. I got to explore my beloved homeland. And I ran the best race of my life. The trip could not have been more perfect. 

After spending my first 3 days enjoying Tel Aviv and Ra'anana, it was time to race. I stayed overnight at my friend Shanna's place. We woke up early and rode bikes to the race. When we arrived at the race I couldn't stop smiling. It was just like every other large race I've attended. Except this time I was surrounded by thousands of my people. 

Listening to the announcer speak in Hebrew was a constant reminder that this was special. I've run many races, but this was my first race overseas. It was fascinating to see the sport of running transcend cultures. 

I had two goals for this race. One goal was reasonable. It was a "safe bet". That goal was to set a new PR (1:33). 

The other goal was a big stretch. I felt like my chances were very slim. But I wanted to break 1:30. 

The horn sounded and off we went. I settled into a pace where I was 10 feet ahead of the 1:30 pace team. I felt comfortable ahead of them but it was still too fast. So after 1 mile I slowed down and I tucked into the back of the 1:30 pace group. There were 15 people running with the 1:30 pack, and the pack leader was carrying a bright red balloon.

We were holding 6:50 pace, but it felt fast and at mile 3 I was already a bit tired. I slowed down slightly and the pace group gradually distanced themselves from me. It was frustrating to see my goal time of 1:30 slip away.  The gap widened between the balloon and me. But I tried hard to keep it in my sights. 

At mile 4 I got a nice 2nd wind. There was a downhill just as we approached the Mediterranean ocean. The view was one I had seen 100 times. But the familiar setting seemed special this time. I was transfixed on the beach and the ocean. The calm waves eased my discomfort of running. I could feel the salty sea air on my skin. 

I tried to hang on to a 6:50-6:55 pace, but the red balloon kept getting further away. It was so small at one point, maybe a half mile ahead of me. I could barely see the balloon and reaching it seemed completely unattainable. 

Meanwhile I just tried to hang on and enjoy the course. It was a thrill to be running through the streets of Tel Aviv. Despite the significant discomfort I was feeling I tried to appreciate the surroundings. Hearing people cheer in Hebrew never got old.

By mile 8 the discomfort was intense. But I knew I had enough gas in the tank for a strong finish. I started to very gradually pick up the pace. I moved from 6:55 to 6:50 pace. Still keeping my eye on the balloon in the distance. 

The balloon represented sub 1:30, but it was still so far away that I didn't think I could catch it. I told myself in consolation, "at least I'll hit my back up goal and get that PR".

At mile 10 I was ready to make a real move. I stepped on the gas and I was surprised that I had an extra gear so late in the race. Mile 11 came out to 6:40. The fatigue was intense. And I was hurting badly. But with only 2 miles remaining, I was ready to face anything thrown at me. 

More importantly, catching the red balloon suddenly became realistic. 

At mile 12 I surged hard. I just kept closing the gap with the balloon. The pain was bad, but the thrill of a strong finish silenced that pain. Mile 12 came out to 6:24 and the balloon was now within striking distance. Maybe 50 meters away. 

With 1 mile to go I was ready to give it everything I had left. My legs and lungs were screaming, but that red balloon was the only thing that mattered. I was intently focused on it, and I noticed little else. 

With a quarter mile to go I finally reached the man holding the balloon. Between gasps I said in Hebrew "I caught you!" Not very clever, but my brain was experiencing serious oxygen debt. 

I knew 1:30 was in the bag and I kicked with everything I had for the last quarter mile. I crossed the finish line and was thrilled when my watched showed 1:28:24. 

I bent over and clutched my knees, the "runner's prayer" pose. But before I could catch my breath, I heard someone calling my name. It was my Uncle Barry and cousin Yael from behind the fence. I walked to the fence and spoke with them while trying to hide my exhaustion.

Afterward we walked around the post-race area for a while. It was great to reconnect with friends and family who came out to support me. 

Mile 1- 6:53

Mile 2- 6:49

Mile 3- 6:47

Mile 4- 6:44

Mile 5- 6:58

Mile 6- 6:54

Mile 7- 6:32 

Mile 8- 6:44

Mile 9- 6:48

Mile 10- 6:51

Mile 11- 6:40

Mile 12- 6:23

Mile 13- 6:08

0.1- 1:09

FINISH- 1:28:24 (6:44 pace)

This wasn't like some of my past races where I held back early so I could finish fast. This time I came out with guns blazing. There were moments during the early and middle miles that I was unsure if I could hang on. 

I've been battling an absolutely brutal winter- running outside every day despite extreme cold, snow and wind. I've had doubt and uncertainty about my training and about how much I was improving. This race felt like the payoff for countless hours spent combating the elements before the sun came up. 

I am so grateful for the support and encouragement of all those around me. I couldn't do this otherwise. I'm happy with the result of this race, but I will continue to work hard. Hopefully this is just the beginning.