San Jose Rock 'n' Roll Half Marathon- The best party this side of town

Summer this year, I ran my longest training run for the San Fran marathon, the day before my son was born. I ran the second longest training run the week after we all came home from the hospital. Yes, it was a heady time and I had lots of fun running and completing the San Francisco Marathon on June 29th. Most importantly, I ran and completed sans injury- a record breaking first. Efforts at researching biomechanics were paying off finally. As a matter of fact, I ran almost 10 miles the week after the marathon. Compared to weeks of no walking after my prior marathons, this was definitely a big win and I was euphoric. I had to up the ante.

Sriks and Suresh were talking about the San Jose Rock 'n' Roll 0.5 marathon as their next run. I got drawn in and with the slight high that the confidence of finishing a marathon well, induces, I decided to set a goal for myself that would have me run a minute faster every mile (as compared to the prev year). Another major motivation, my parents were going to visit us and would be able to stand at the finish line.

Thrilled would be too unenthusiastic a word. I trained with enormous gusto and slowly my speed improved... but not enough to run 13.1 miles at a pace that would bring my average time to 1 minute/mile faster than the previous year. It constantly chewed on my mind as I wrestled with time and my own limitations.

D-Day minus one came and I picked up my folks, brought them home, went to the expo etc., etc. My friends from Southern California planned their trip to coincide with the half marathon. The house was lively with people and I was the only one rather silent. My longest training run of 11 miles was not fast enough to give me my desired race goal speed. In my usual style I had already announced to the better part of the world my intended goal time. Big dinner (read carb loading). Butterflies in stomach galore. Fitful night's sleep though.

Drive to San Jose downtown was uneventful. The usual jovial bantering between me, Sriks and Suresh. Jabs here and jabs there- we were enjoying the empty stomach (at least mine) and nervous laughters. Race line was long (about 15000 runners I think). Above mentioned butterflies turned out to be a rather persistent stomach upset. With 20 minutes to go for 7am (gun start), I head for the porta potty's and inch up to them in a rather longish line. As I finish the necessary things, I hear the gun go. Damn- I'm late again. I run out of the porta potty, much like a bat out of hell and run up the lines to find my pace group. I choose the long side of the line to try to enter- its all chained up. In my hurry, I don't notice and run right up to the start line only to discover that I can't joint the throngs of avid runners. All entrances this side are blocked and my only option is to run back to the end of the runners (a quarter mile back) and come up the other side. Damn and I'm already panting from the full sprint I gave. Eventually I join the sea of runners and slowly inch my way forward and finally hit the starting line.

My immediate task for the next few miles is to run fast and catch up with my pace group. I dodge the initially concentrated group of runners as I try to maintain a faster than usual pace. My face turns red with the effort.

Aside from my minor fiasco at the start line, here is the deal with the 0.5 marathon. Its a rock 'n' roll marathon--- dig? Every 2 miles (or so) has a band playing rock music. Surrounding that area, usually, there are a whole lot of really juiced up spectators. Yes, its like a party every bit of the way.

Mile 4, I cross Sriks and ask him if he saw my pace group go by. Sad to hear that, yes, it went past a few minutes back. That would require me to run much too fast to catch up- and I won't be able to muster that. I fall back to backup plan-- try to maintain my goal pace myself. Sounds easy- probably is easy- but I struggle a bit.

Every rock band rocked and the people rocked harder- I started to really draw their energy and was actually enjoying myself as we moved on. San Pedro square was an absolute riot. The spectators made us runners feel like olympic stars. We really got a hero's welcome as we passed that spot.

Mile 10, I'm a little behind my goal pace and I decide I can't afford to stop for water any more. So I pass up the chance and move fwd. Mile 12., redemption time- Last year at this point, a minor upslope had me all fatigued out and I had broken up into a walk. This time around, I power ran thro'..... yippeeeee. It felt great

Finish line was somewhere nearby, I couldn't see it, but I could definitely hear it. A distinct unmistakeable roar, that only 1000's of spectators can generate. I crank up my speed- I want to show off to my parents my new found fitness. I see the finish line and the density of spectators on either side catches my unprepared. There are just too many people and all I hear is a roar. The sound is enough to get me to sprint hard and I finish with my tongue hanging out in fatigue. I notice I didn't meet my goal time.

A little dejected at that., but on the other hand I realised I had a really good time running. I told myself I had pushed myself hard and at the end of the day thats what really matters. Putting on a smile, I walked on thro' to meet the home crowd. The usual congrats done and my thank you's done to people for coming, I have a sudden inkling of a doubt. The finish time I saw was my gun time. I still didn't know my chip time. Enter Shoba and her really cool iPhone. Suresh logs in to the race website for live results. Tense moments pass by (at least for me) and yes the pigeons can be set free. I come just within my goal time. I almost felt like jumping up and down till I dropped.

As we drive home, I realize that although I'm ecstatic at finishing what I had started in the way I had wanted. For that few moments when I thought I had not finished within my goal time, I was still very happy. Because all that matters at the end of the day is that for some strange reason, we runners enjoy the simple act of putting one foot in front of the other, over and over. For some really strange reason, that gives me so much joy.