My Better Half 10k 2026

I wasn't going to run this race this year...it was too early to be my birthday race, and therefore it felt skippable. But photos of the shirt and medal changed my mind, and I quickly decided I could tack a couple miles onto the 10k and get a good, final long run out of it. 

I'm so glad I did.

My Better Half 5k 2025

I almost didn't sign up for this race, but I couldn't let my birthday tradition go. Because I didn't exactly have time to train for a fast or impressive 5k, my mindset was complete, don't compete. I wanted to run this race, but I didn't want to race it.

My Better Half 10k 2024

Let me start by saying how absolutely relieved I am that I chose to run the 10k instead of the half this year. If had I any doubts that I was making the right decision, they fled the moment I checked the weather report for race day.

44°? No problem. Perfect, even. 90% chance of rain? No thanks.

Decision time

Last time I posted a training update, I was feeling a little better about my upcoming half marathon. Since then, things have unraveled. I've made the hard decision to switch to the 10k.

MBHM training update

When I last posted about how training was going for the 2024 My Better Half Marathon, I was feeling pretty down. Still, I've been plugging away, so all things considered, I'm pretty happy with the progress I've made.

My Better Half Half Marathon 2023

Well, that was unexpected.

It's been awhile since I've written a race recap like this, so bear with me.

The day before the race, as I drove home from packet pickup, I messaged Elizabeth on WhatsApp. I told her I had an inkling that a freak PR was possible – this would be my first half marathon run in cooler weather, and realistically I felt like I was pretty well prepared, even if my brain was in denial that I was running – but that I wasn't going to think too hard about it.

Given that I said it out loud, you wouldn't think I'd still be so surprised that it happened.

Let's talk training

I've got a half marathon looming this weekend, which I'm running with my friend Sarah, so it only makes sense to finally sit down and review my training...such as it was. This is actually kind of tricky because I can't pinpoint exactly when I started. I signed up October 5, so let's say that's when I intended to start training, but I didn't put together a plan right away. Actually, any nebulous plan I had in my head was sidelined by a week or two of persistent smoky days just four days after we signed up for the race.

It wasn't until November that I sat down and figured out the remainder of our long runs for training, but that was derailed by the holidays, vacations, the flu, and Zoe's arrival.

These interruptions and the slow start had the bizarre effect of me being in a state of denial that I'm training at all. This is the first time I'm sitting down and trying to get myself into the mental headspace for a half marathon, and the race is tomorrow!

I'm running a half marathon

It's happening.

The last time I ran a half marathon was 2019, but it feels kind of like a fever dream now. I tend to forget that I ran it, even though at the time it was so important to me. I think when I ran that last half, I was trying to prove something (it was post-CECS recovery), but my heart wasn’t really in it. I remember being excited and hopeful – emotional – but I also remember being intensely unhappy during parts of the race. I wanted it to be over. I had a hard time finding the joy and beauty in the struggle.

Afterward, I reckoned with the truth that I had put a lot of pressure on myself for that race, and I made the decision to step back and not do any big races for awhile.

That was February 2019. The next year, the race organizers moved the race to January (because of football? I think?) and the appeal of that particular race has always been that it falls on my birthday weekend. So, I ran it as a “virtual” 5k and opted to run the Gasparilla 15k in February instead, and then the pandemic hit and races were put on hold.

My Better Half 10k

I've always wanted to ring a PR bell, and this weekend, I did just that!

It should come as no surprise that I love to run a race on my birthday weekend. Last year, we were still so new to Seattle (and COVID was still so present) that it didn't really cross my mind...and that ended up being for the best, since it absolutely dumped snow that weekend.

February 2021. Yeah. Not racing in this.

But this year, I didn't want to pass up the opportunity. I found the My Better Half race early in the fall and was immediately interested in running the 10k, but wanted to wait to sign up until I was sure we wouldn't have another snowpocalypse. Then, when I finally went to register, it was sold out.

I added myself to the waiting list and found a backup race that would suffice but wouldn't be nearly as exciting, just in case. I kept a close eye on my email for two weeks, wondering how long I should wait before I officially gave up and signed up for the backup race.

Then, the Wednesday night before race weekend, I was doing my warmup ride on the Peloton when I saw the email come through. I'd been selected!

I signed up right then, as Alex Toussaint urged me to "ride to greatness!"

A couple weeks before this, the second toe on both my feet had been hurting on and off, so once I knew I'd definitely be running a race that weekend, I changed my schedule, deciding to skip my runs for the rest of the week so my toes would be rested for race day. That worked out okay, seeing as Matt and I were dog-sitting Brewsky and Kogi all week, so I had access to the Peloton.

Race Morning

Race weekend brought some deceptive weather: sunny skies and freezing temps. I expected it to be 45° or 50° on race day, but when I lined up at the start, it was 31°. The grass was frosty but at least we weren't getting snow.

I've never felt as blasé about a race as I did this time around. The route was at a park I'm familiar with, I hadn't been training specifically for a race so I didn't have a goal in mind, and I've been running at least 10k for my long runs every weekend since October, so the distance felt more than doable. Basically, everything felt like just another weekend long run.

I was also feeling strangely comfortable with running this race alone. It's been awhile since I've raced by myself, without even a spectator at the finish line, but something about being alone lowered my anxiety and expectations. I was truly just racing for myself.

Unbeatable views!

The 10k was set to start at 8:05am. During the 30-minute drive to the park, I ate half a large banana and sipped some coffee. I was trying something new with the banana because my usual pre-long-run breakfast of overnight oats hadn't been settling well the last few weekends. 

The drive was incredibly foggy — I'm talking barely 20 feet of visibility and invisible streetlights — so I drove slowly and was worried I'd be late. Still, I only missed one turn and arrived around 7:35. I found street parking a block away. I changed shirts (since it was colder than anticipated) and got my bib on, glad that I'd made the trip to pick it up the day before. Gloves, Shokz, headband, gum. I meant to bring Honeystinger chews, but forgot to stick them in a pocket.

Around 7:50 I got out of the car and jogged the half mile down to park bathrooms, using that as my warmup. Only one stall had toilet paper, but just as a line was forming, the custodian came by with a sack of rolls to distribute, like a Bathroom Santa Claus. I did my business and jogged to the start. I barely had to wait three minutes before the 10k runners were given the Go! I couldn't have timed it better!

The Race

My plan for this race was vague. "Take it easy" and "just run it" were my top priorities. Having run a similar course on Halloween, I knew the big hill in the first half mile was really a lot and I gave myself permission to walk it or walk at the top. Whatever I needed.

What ended up happening was that I ran up the hill, quads burning, and somehow managed to just keep on trucking at the top. The worst part was actually that the hill was divided, so passing people meant getting in the way of half marathoners already on their downhill sprint. Having to run slowly on the heels of a bunch of people while going uphill was tedious and burned worse than if I could've just powered up at my own pace with an open road ahead of me. Then again, maybe the forced slower pace kept me from totally burning out at the end.

Once I cleared the top, there were two additional, gentler hills, but there were some downhills, too, so all in all that first mile was taxing but it didn't sap me the way it did back in October. This was my first indicator that I've made some amazing progress since then, but I wasn't too focused on that at the time because I had no idea how I'd fare the remainder of the race.

Once I came back down that first major hill, I knew the rest of the course was flat. I settled into a comfortable rhythm and let it roll.

Mile 2.5 and feeling fine!

I'm about to age myself, but around mile 2.5, a group of cool-looking young adults were walking on the dirt trail adjacent to the course, against race traffic, shouting compliments and encouragement to runners. I don't think they were there to spectate but had gotten swept up in it during their own morning walk. As I started coming up to them, one of the women shouted to me: "Great outfit, I like the look you got going on!" and I swear I started flying. (Compliments from Gen Z just hit different.)

I couldn't ask for a prettier route.

The sky was cloudless and the sun was high, but it hadn't quite thawed the north side of the park yet, and around mile 2.7 I suddenly found myself slipping. The asphalt was slick with a thin layer of invisible, iced-over frost. I left the road for the dirt trail and stayed there until the ice disappeared.

You can see where I slowed down for ice (dark blue) at the north end of the park.

I finished the first lap without much ado, still feeling proud of myself for holding off taking a walk break. I tend to walk a lot in 10ks. The end of the first loop brought us through a parking lot and up onto a narrow sidewalk, where I lost some time stuck behind slower runners. Coming out of that turn, the course split — left to continue, right to the finishing chute. I veered left and crossed the halfway timing mat.

Of course, as soon as I did, I began to feel fatigued. My breathing was getting a little ragged and my legs were tired.

I told myself I could walk at mile 4, but I passed that same cheer squad ("Still looking good!") and managed to get myself to 4.6 before I finally took a break. By mile 4.65 I was running again, but my watch was showing dashes where my pace should be. It hadn't connected to GPS at the start, either, and when it finally kicked back in a few minutes later, it said my pace was in the 12s. I knew that had to be wrong and decided not to let it worry me. I just kept trucking along.

Just a l'il walk break selfie.

By the time I got to mile 5.5, I knew I'd manage to finish this race without another walk break and I was already feeling incredibly proud of myself. Compared to how the Run Scared 10k went, I couldn't believe how much stronger I was!

Digging in around mile 5.

Because the route was a double-loop, I could easily visualize the last few turns; when I came out of the interior loop of the park and into the parking lot, I knew exactly where to stick to the street and where to cut back onto the sidewalk to avoid any bottlenecks. This time I veered right at the split and straight toward the finish.

I found I didn't have a lot of energy left for my usual sprint at the end, which tells me I pushed myself just enough during the race. As I drew closer to the finish, I heard the emcee call my name. "Welcome to the finish, Alison!" There's nothing quite like that at a race!

Post Race

I grabbed my medal and water and shuffled off to the water's edge to get out of the crowd and take a look at my watch. I had seen the clock as I came in, but I wasn't sure how behind I had been on the gun.

57:14. That had to be a mistake. The last time I ran a 10k under 60 minutes was...I didn't even know when! Had I really managed a PR without actually training for one? Without setting any sort of time goal at all?

I went to the race website to confirm. 57:12.

I looked up my old PR. In 2012, the first 10k I ever ran, I ran a 58:41. That was so long ago that for years I've thought my PR was an hour because I forgot I'd ever broken 60! And now, ten years later, I broke that record by over a minute without even trying!

6th place got me by a second!

I was flabbergasted. I knew I'd run a great race but I hadn't realized just how well I'd done until that moment. There was a PR bell in the finisher's village and I worked up the nerve to ask someone to take my photo while I rang it. I'd never gotten to do that before!

Bucket list item, fulfilled!

I didn't hang around long, although the vendors and oatmeal bar were tempting. If the oatmeal had been gluten free, I would've! I'm annoyed at myself for not finding the photo booth before I left, but I wasn't thinking straight — too excited about my PR — and being alone post-race always makes me just want to get in the car and head out.

Back at the car, I took stock. My toes were feeling good. My legs felt pretty good. My asthma was starting to set in now that my adrenaline was cooling, and I took a puff off my albuterol. I sent my race results to Elizabeth, Sarah, and Matt. I was still in shock.

All told, this was a fantastic race and a great way to say goodbye to 35. I had a great time, it was so well organized, and I feel like it's the first kind of "big" race I've done since the move. I will definitely be back next year, barring another mid-February snowpocalypse. I may even do the half, finally reinstating my birthday half marathon tradition.

ABK