by Pamela Hect
|
|
“The Harvest Half reminded me that running is more than miles, it’s about the friendships we make while sharing a common purpose.”
|
This fall’s Harvest Half was more than just my third half marathon of the year. It felt like the capstone to a season of resilience, friendship, and rediscovering joy in running again.
When I first laced up, I wasn’t sure if I had the stamina—physically or mentally—to commit to training. But I wasn’t running alone. Thanks to my Perrigo crew, Sunday “run-days” became my long runs and my weekly social outlet. Almost every Sunday morning, we met at Whole Foods, laced up, and logged miles together. Week after week, the miles stacked up alongside laughter, encouragement, and the kind of conversations that make the road feel shorter. Those Sundays didn’t just make my legs stronger; they reminded me that running is always better when shared.
While Sunday runs were my anchor, I did make it out to a few Lake Sammamish Run Club “Wake Up Friday” (WuF) events. One Friday morning before the Harvest Half, my pal Doug pushed me to run four miles well out of my comfort zone and Mari reminded me to “smile”. Though I groaned through it at the time, I know those little nudges helped me build the grit and stamina I carried into race day.
And then, of course, there is Piper, the most famous dog in our running community. She didn’t run the Harvest Half, but she joined countless training runs, yelping happily at Perrigo parkruns and splashing into the water on summer mornings. Doug and Dean are her favorite dog-whisperers.
Each half marathon along the way carried its own story:
- Lake Sammamish Half (March): My first race back, and a test of resilience. I crossed the finish line in 2:14 (10:15 pace). It wasn’t easy—I was still recovering from a bout with Norovirus—but finishing reminded me of all the work I put in during the winter.
- Super Half (June): Race day was cold and unlike our practice run. The weather was cold and wet. I, sadly, caught Covid 2 weeks prior. My time slowed to 2:19 (10:41 pace), but the real victory was simply showing up, running through the rain, and proving to myself that setbacks don’t define the journey.
- Harvest Half (September): By the time fall arrived, I was ready. Strava clocked me at 2:03 (9:23 pace), a personal record and my fastest of the three. I debuted my brand-new Hoka Bondis, which felt like running on clouds, and they carried me comfortably through the first half of the course.
The second half, though, was all grit. My goal was to break 2 hours, and I pushed as hard as I could, but fatigue set in. There were four water stations, and looking back, I wish I’d stopped at the third one on the way back. I was so thirsty and so tired at that point that every step felt heavier.
What kept me moving was the energy around me. At the second water stop, the cheer station was filled with familiar faces, including Mary and Doug, whose cheers lifted my spirits right when I needed it most. I also remember smiling at the encouragement signs lining the course on the out-and-back stretch. Lillian and Tali ran ahead after mile 7 and I knew I had to keep pushing.
Jason was with me the whole race, to pace me and to remind me to breathe. His presence reminded me that I can do hard things—and crossing with a shiny PR proved it true.
Crossing the finish line wasn’t just about the clock. It was about honoring the journey: the sick days, the rainy races, the early alarms, the Whole Foods Sundays, the rare WuF pushes, Piper’s cheerful presence, and the friendships that kept me lacing up when it would have been easier to stay home.
Most of all, I’m grateful for the Perrigo crew, each of whom adds something special to our circle:
This year of running has reminded me that improvement isn’t always linear and that progress is as much about community as it is about pace. My Perrigo crew lifted me through the lows and celebrated the highs, turning every mile into something meaningful.
And the sweetest ending of all? After the Harvest Half, Jason and I brought home two tiny kittens. We named them Hoka and Saucony—a playful nod to the shoes that carried me through this year’s races.
As I look ahead, I’m filled with gratitude. Grateful for the strength to run, for the people who inspire me to keep going, and for the simple joy of chasing finish lines together—sometimes followed by kittens, and often accompanied by a wagging tail and a cookie-seeking nose. The Harvest Half may have been my third half marathon this year, but I know it’s just another step in a journey that’s far from over.
A heartfelt thank-you to the Lake Sammamish Run Club for organizing such a welcoming, encouraging event and for building a community where miles become memories.
