Race Report: Lisbon Half Marathon

Sit back and settle in: this post tells quite the story. The Lisbon Half Marathon was fun, but it was also one of the strangest and funniest races I've ever done.

The race festivities started out on Friday evening, where Amy, Ben, and I set out to find the expo and pick up our racing numbers. Getting there in itself was a bit of a challenge- the trams had mysteriously stopped running, and none of the city buses went our direction. Finally, we managed to catch a train and made it to the expo. The expo itself was small but nice. We were shuffled around for a bit-- it took us a while to realize there were separate lines for Portuguese and International runners-- but eventually, we all had our numbers, chips, and high-lighter yellow race shirts.

We also took advantage of the expo's sell on running gear. Ben desperately needed new running shoes (his old ones had no soles), and had I only packed long-sleeved running shirts (not so smart for running in 70 -80 F weather!). Ben got a pair of spiffy new shoes, and I walked away with a bright pink short-sleeved running shirt. Amy and I also got matching pink running hats-- total lifesavers in the strong Portuguese sunshine.

The next morning, things started to turn a little weird:

Problem 1:  The morning of the race, I woke up to Amy frantically reading the back of her race number. Apparently, rather than being given the number for her actual name-- Amy Hopkins-- she was given the number for Amy Littlehailes, a 43-year-old British runner. Ben and I immediately checked our numbers. Mine looked perfectly fine, and Ben's number had no name at all. Normally, this wouldn't really be a problem, but Amy was planning on actually using her half marathon time to qualify for the New York Marathon. If your number doesn't match your name, you can't exactly use your time.

Problem 2: It was crowded. I knew that this was a big, 30,000-person race, but that didn't really sink in until we started travelling towards the start line. The metro was packed. When we got off the metro, the sidewalks were packed. When the 10:30 start time rolled around, we were still a good half-mile from the starting line, inching forward in an enormous crowd of people. When we finally, finally crossed the start line it was a good thirty minutes after the gun initially went off. Needless to say, by that point I was positively itching to just run.

waiting for the race to start: amy + me in matching pink hats. 

me + ben, ready to run! neither of us had ever really run in a hat before, but
they were absolute lifesavers in the bright sunshine. 

Problem 3:  The bridge. The first 4 km of the half marathon passed over the beautiful Ponte Abril, a gorgeous bridge spanning harbor leading out to the Atlantic Ocean. Unfortunately, much like rest of the starting area, the bridge was crowded. Really, really crowded.

the first 4 or so km were on this beautiful, beautiful bridge.

For some reason, the race organizers decided to start the half marathon (20 km) and the mini marathon (6 km) at the same time and in the same place. Unfortunately, most of the participants in my wave of "runners" weren't actually runners at all-- they were walkers signed up for the mini marathon. In many ways, it was kind of like trying to run through a parade. To be honest, I almost feel silly saying I was "running" all-- more appropriate verbs would include "dodging", "weaving", "darting", and perhaps for a particularly stubborn group of walkers, "ploughing my way through". I ran through old people, young people,  families pushing strollers, groups waving flags, two drum lines, and, most memorably, a mini-marching band of twenty bagpipe players. If I weren't so frustrated, I totally would have taken pictures. I really do appreciate that so many people came out to support the race, and I love that that so many people wanted to spend a beautiful morning outside and walk the 6 k. I just wish that the start of the mini marathon and the start of the half marathon were at very, very different times. I didn't want to dart through a parade. I wanted to run.

unfortunately, despite being beautiful, the
bridge was crazy crowded. we ran through a parade. 

Problem 4: Remember Amy, the girl with the wrong name trying to qualify for New York? She got lost. Not lost from Ben and myself-- seeing as she's super-speedy, that's a given-- but lost from the entire race. Just after the crazy-crowded bridge, the race course split: the half marathon went one direction, and the mini marathon went the other. Amy never saw the split (to be fair, it wasn't well marked). She finished the mini marathon, realized what happened, turned around, and ran the remainder of the half marathon, adding a good 5 k to her over all race, and removing any chance of using this race to qualify for New York. Whoops.


Amy's mistake aside, after the split for the mini marathon, my race went much, much smoother. The course quickly thinned out and I found that elusive running "groove". Despite the heat and sun, my legs felt light and strong, and I was soon putting back the miles and moving along. From here on out, the race was organized beautifully, with water and powerade stops every couple of miles, live bands playing both top-40 hits and Portuguese tunes, and lots of enthusiastic supporters. Around 19k, Amy finally caught up to me (she really is a running beast, by the way), and from there I sprinted on in to the finish line.

I know your suposed to, but I'm usually not an end-of-the-race sprinter. My past two half marathons, I jogged in, and during my full marathon in 2008, I sort of limped/walked/jogged/cried across (brutal, brutal race). This time, however, as soon as the finish line arch was in sight, I lifted my head, and ran as fast as I possible could. I practically leaped across the finish line. I was tired and sore (still am, actually...), but I honestly felt great.

The post-race festivities were pretty fantastic. I quickly met up with Ben, and together we picked up our medals as well as goody bags fileld with water, powerade, juice, and snacks. There were also ice cream cones being given out to all runners, something I absolutely loved. I was hot and sore, but on a total runner's high, and soon found myself jabbering on about how I wanted to do another race.

Despite the weird (and frustrating) beginning, race did have some funny twists:

• I managed to PR! My last half marathon, in 2009, had me coming in at 2:20-something, so I was super happy to see my time. It's taken me five-odd years of running, but I think I've finally learned how to consistently run a sub-10 minute mile. 
• According to the official records, Ben didn't run the race at all. His number had no name on the back, and when we checked his number against the results database, it was tagged to a Portuguese runner with no name. 
• Perhaps the most ironic twist of all: Whoever had Amy's actual number (the one linked to her name) came in at 1:29, about a minute under our Amy's goal time, and exactly what she needed to qualify for New York. Can you say "irony"?

Despite (or perhaps because of?) the confusions, frustrations, and ironic endings, the Lisbon Half Marathon really was a fantastic race. The course was beautiful, I ran my best, and I finished with an enormous smile on my face. I can't wait to run another one!