If you know me or have followed along on the blog, then you’ve probably become familiar with the fact that I have never considered myself a “runner”. I developed asthma during my high school years attempting to run a pitiful 13-minute mile. I complained every single day when we ran to warm up for poms (or dance/drill team to some of you), and developed an overall hatred for running. I wasn’t built for running, according to myself. Short little legs can only run so fast for so long right? Running just wasn’t in the cards for me.
Fast-forward to a night with friends and a lovely bottle of Tito’s vodka, the fuel behind many awesome life decisions, and one of them mentioned that we all needed to run this half-marathon. They had run it the year prior and said it was the first half marathon she had ever done and it was so inspiring and fun, yada yada. Well, fun and run may rhyme but they did not go together in my book. I had attempted my first 5k two years ago but the race ended up getting rained out. Determined to not let my training go to waste, I completed my first, and only, 5k on the treadmill. It wasn’t fun but I was really proud of myself at the end. It was only a few weeks later I discovered I had a broken spine and then had back surgery. So why wouldn’t a half marathon sound like a brilliant idea to someone with a metal spine and asthma?! Thanks Tito.
So, I started training with my two friends and they came up with a 12-week training program. I warned them in the beginning that I couldn’t run for very long at a time and I definitely couldn’t run and carry on a conversation. So they talked and I attempted to not die and breathe. There was loooots of walking! I remember looking at the training plan and thinking there was no way. I couldn’t just start running 4 or 5 miles on week 3! But I have good friends who refused to let me quit. All I promised them was that I would try. I would give 100% effort to the training program or as close to 100% as a mom of very busy kids could get. The first time we all ran together I felt immense peer pressure. Not from them but from myself. I didn’t want to embarrass myself and even though I’m sure they didn’t care and I had already given them a ton of disclaimers/excuses about my lack of running ability, I had high standards for myself.
Truth is that it’s really hard to face you fears. It’s hard to look at yourself and assess whether or not something is achievable. Most of us would probably underscore our abilities. I am also my worst enemy. I can talk myself out of pretty much anything remotely difficult or uncomfortable. I tried talking myself out of running many times but thankfully had the accountability of friends to keep me on track. Pretty soon my thoughts were more about wanting to keep up with them and not wanting to let them down rather than what I thought I couldn’t achieve. The first time I ran 4 miles with them I finished considerably slower than they did and they didn’t seem winded at all. I, on the other hand, wanted to crawl to my car and puke and cry all at the same time.
But it was a truly proud feeling to accomplish even 4 miles for me so then my thoughts really began to change. If I could do 4 miles, then why couldn’t I do 5? 6? 8? I started looking forward to my early morning Saturday runs with my friends and if they were unable to run or follow the training plan, I kept on going. I now had myself to be accountable too as well. I started realizing it was too close to the race to back out now and I really had come so far. I started doing research and getting input on shoes, clothes, fuel (food) before, during and post race and other tips from friends. I started forming my game plan. Plan of attack and goals for this formerly insurmountable feat that I was actually going to face. I tried 3 different pair of shoes and just like Goldilocks, the 3rd pair was juuuuuuuust right! I packed my clothes and made sure I had a battery charger for my phone, charged my headphones, packed the right clothes with options for pending weather and set off to accomplish this goal like an absolute rockstar!
Race day was here and I was ready! I ate my pre-race meal, foam rolled and attached my number to my shirt. Was I seriously doing this is all I could think. We walked up to the finish line and I was so nervous but trying hard not to let my nerves turn my stomach in knots because no one needs that before a race. It was early and cold but the sun was starting to rise and the National Anthem began to plan. Then a shot let out and we were off!!
It was so crowded at first it was almost weird because we had to walk to the starting line and I had to ensure my tracking app on my phone started, my music started playing and then tuck it all back in my fanny pack. There were people there of all walks of life!! Some were much older than us and some considerably younger but everyone had the same goal: finish this half marathon. People had on costumes and others had shirts stating their goals or purpose. One lady had on a shirt that said this was how she was choosing to spend her birthday! I could not stop thinking “I can’t believe I’m doing this”! I was taking it all in for the first few miles. One of my goals was finishing the race and the other goal I had was to do it without needing my inhaler. I told my friend this about mile 3 after we had already seen many, many people stop to walk and she told me to add another goal of not stopping to walk one time. I thought she was nuts but I knew adrenaline would play into that at some point so I said “sure, ok why not?!”
We started waving at all the policemen that were blocking the roads as they made it possible for us and it is a thankless job. We were smiling and laughing and just quite literally high on life that I was actually there running in this race. I ate my GU around mile 6 and was still feeling pretty good. My knees were sore and I was fairly certain I had a blister on my foot but I wasn’t stopping. Then my friend started preparing me for the mile 7 massive hill up ahead. She was determined to run the whole hill and we did have that goal, plus I’m motivated to hurry up and finish things that suck. That hill sucked!! So, I turned on some Whitney Houston and ran up that darn hill!!! After the hill I pretty much thought I could do this race now and finish and rock it! I didn’t stop running although my feet started to go numb and my knees were really aching. My hips started hurting and I started to try to kick my butt more when I ran just to test the lack of flexibility in my knees. I didn’t stop to pee once which I also thought was pretty amazing but I did enjoy the water hand out stops as they gave you something to look forward to. Not only was I surrounded by motivating people from all walks of life and abilities, but perfect, amazing, strangers were following everyone around for the full 13.1 miles and tirelessly cheering us on!! There were kids who had made signs to “hit here to power up” or some wonderful people playing music and wanting you to dance while you ran. There was even one lady I swear I saw at least twice during the race and she was screaming her head off for people she didn’t know. And she was so motivating!!! Thank you dark haired lady for cheering for us and making me smile! There were friends, family members, and every single one of them were appreciated.
When I got to around mile 11 I actually wanted to quit a little. I felt miserable and my pace became more like a trot and my body ached. My mind wanted to give in but I had come so far and worked so hard and I wasn’t giving up on myself. I just kept looking forward praying to see that finish line. Mile 12 was even worse and I am sure I mentioned frequently how I was not enjoying myself during those moments. But, then I thought of my daughter who ran cross country this year. All the times she wanted to quit but I wouldn’t let her. I told her in every race to start slow and sprint the end. My friend’s daughter ran cross country with her and she knew my daughter often did this in her races. So somewhere in my delirious brain I told her we needed to sprint the end. I told her we had to for our daughters but only a short distance as I wasn’t honestly sure I could sprint at this point. She agreed, probably because I had agreed to all of this because of her in the first place so she owed me one!! Then, there it was. The glorious finish line and my handsome husband standing there to cheer me on. I told her “let’s go. This is it. Sprint!!!!” And 2 hours and 36 minutes was finally over. I had finished a half marathon. I had done it!! And I kicked its ass!!! I didn’t stop to walk once and I never used my inhaler. I got my shiny metal and tears just started flowing. I had dreamed of that moment of crossing the finish line and launching myself into my husbands’ arms for over 12 weeks. I sprinted for my daughter but I ran that race for me more than anyone. I am amazing! My body is a well-oiled, partially metal, machine that God built and only he knows my limits. I had crossed a finish line and opened myself up to possibilities. I was capable of a half-marathon. I was capable of running 13.1 miles without stopping. Me!! The asthmatic back surgery patient with a formerly 13-minute mile was capable of running! I was finally able to consider myself, without a doubt, a RUNNER!
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