Master of Puppets

For the last few years the Half a Half Marathon (it's a quarter marathon folks) has been my first race of each running year. Last week's race kind of fucked up that streak. 

For the record, the Half a Half was the first run I signed up for 2026 - Berlin not included, that is. And it was this last weekend. 

My half marathon training had me slated to run a tempo pace for 90 minutes - or about 10 miles. I feel I'm behind in my mileage for 2026, so doing a 6.55 mile race seemingly was still cutting training short. Like the good trooper I am, before the race, I went out and ran 3.54 miles. 

I'm glad I did, and I wish I hadn't - all at once. First off, it was cold, so the pre-run warmed me up. But it left me somewhat at a deficit in terms of energy - or so I thought. 

My first mile was iffy, but miles 2-6 were solid. Fast. Almost carefree. At mile 3 I pulled away from the folks with whom I was running and didn't seem them again till after they crossed the finish line. They left to do another seven, but I was done. 

I collected my medal, then went for the Uncrustable, banana, bag of pretzels and water. None of which I ate, but I figured 710 now has one lunch for the week. One less I have to make. 

I starting to leave when a women yelled "83!  Hey 83! You won!"

Truth be told I didn't even know my bib number was 83. I never really look. Of course, I thought she was fucking with me. And why not?  Me?? Win??? 

As it turns out, she was being sincere. 

Blobby came in third in the 'men's masters' category, she said.  Ouch, I thought. I mean, yay, but ouch. 

The "masters" are participants 60 year and older. (seriously, I just typed '600'). 

Winning anything based on skill at any age is kind of nice. As you can see, I won a mug. As you can also see, I did not win a fashion contest. Inside the mug was another little medal for the category win. 

Had I not run my morning warm up run, I might have been able to take second place. I looked at the results and there was no way I could have been first. That man was running sub eight minute miles. I don't have that in me. 

For about 0.00038 seconds, I says to myself, "if I can keep this pace, I can do a sub-4 hour marathon". 

Make no mistake, I cannot keep up an 8:51 pace for 26 miles. Still.......yay me. And we know I don't say that a lot. 

Song by: Metallica