Half Marathon!!
I’ve been thinking about this blog for a while and finally have gotten around to completing it. This has been a journey that has developed over the past three years, believe it or not. So I see it only fit to start back at that time. The spring after my son was born, a good friend of mine encouraged me to get out and start running with her. She too, had a daughter the same age, and it was a good excuse to get out and enjoy our new lives with kids. I’m not going to sugar coat this, because taking this step was effin hard! I never enjoyed running, as my previous posts have mentioned, and I would avoid it at all costs when I was training in highschool for rowing. I despised it with great passion. But, I figured this would be a great way to help shed some baby weight that was lingering, and really still is. I was only able to run about 100 meters at this point and had … needed to walk in between. My mind was going crazy trying to convince my body that this was insane. I could not do this! My body was trying to tell my mind, that it was insane. I was crazy to think I could do this.
So fast forward 3 years….. I have completed multiple 5K runs, a couple of 10K runs and last fall after my final run for the year and feeling super excited to do so well, I added a new thing to my bucket list. It was to run a Half Marathon. That’s 21.1 kilometers, 13 miles for an imperial reference. Now comes the training program.
The year started off fine with some light running with co-workers, friends and by my lonesome. I played my usual summer of soccer, but ended up with a major hip/pelvic injury which limited my running terribly. I ran the Wellington Woman’s half of a half (10.55K) and ended up having to walk the last two km from the pain that this injury was producing. I felt sick to my stomach. I was suppose to begin my training regime the end of July and this was the end of June. As I kept on trying to play soccer, going to physio, doing light running when I could, I got the horrible thought that I was crazy and stupid to think I would be able to do this. August came and I was still in pain. I actually remember telling my husband that I was going to have to withdraw from the race and forfeit my money. Utter despair!
After a 2 week vacation, away from running, soccer and being able to relax, I finally felt a little relieve and started my running. Ya, most days I got 2 to 3 kmbefore having to give up since I was getting a tingle in my leg from my injury. I kept going, pushing myself to run further and further. I was not going to give up. I gradually began to incorporate a long run on Sunday mornings with a good friend. We worked up from 6km, to 8 to 10 to 14. At this point it was the week prior to Thanksgiving and I had 2 weeks left. My last final long run, which I completed by my lonesome on thanksgiving morning was a whopping 17KM!! It was the longest run I had ever completed in my entire life. To top it off I ran the whole time, stopping to walk about 500 meters up a very small incline to cross a major road. My adrenaline was pumping and I finally had the feeling that this was something I was going to accomplish AND in the projected time I was hoping for. During this run, I had many thoughts on how I would write this blog. I can tell you that from that time to now, it’s similar but not quite as I imagined. I had thoughts of talking about how myself, being an obese woman in the medical field, could run for this long in a fairly ok time, to having thoughts of encouragement of how what’s on the outside isn’t always how we are on the inside, to just getting my story out there for everyone I know to enjoy, and finally, holy crap: next week is the day!
RACE DAY: I get up, have my normal breakfast and prepare myself for the day. I get lots of love from home before driving to Picton, in the rain, to get a bus to the starting line, and wait and wait and wait…. In the rain I might add again. Rain seems to be the theme for this race and I’ve become more prepared talking to veteran racers about what to wear, what I could use to toss along the side of the road, and just basic words of encouragement being my first time out running a half marathon.
Now’s the part I really don’t remember much of. The actually race itself. I never thought I would blank out and not remember some of this day, but it happened. I walked to the starting line, anticipation in my belly, music ready and waiting in my ears. And we’re off. What? Really? Now? I’m not ready, but wait… I am ready. I start my race, going my normal speed and trying not to get caught up in the hype of those fast runners who can do this in an hour and a half or less. The rain is upon me and I’m soaked within the first few kilometres. I know this route, drove it many times on our Sunday outings when there has been nothing to do. Here comes the blanking out bit. I notice the first few kilometre markings, but then next thing I realize I am now 6K in. How did that happen? I get into my groove and follow the same people along the race as they stop to walk at drinking stations and I pass them not wanting to stop. Then they pass me again until we meet at another walking time. I make it to about the 13K mark and start to take some regular breaks. Again, blanking out in between each water stop which are spaced two kilometres apart. I feel great, wait… make that amazed. I’m actually running this kind of distance. At one point, I’m sure the sun wanted to come out and shine, but it was swallowed up by clouds again. At least the rain stopped at one point, not sure when this happened. Then….. CRAP!!!
5K to the finish line, my music dies. Later I realize it must have gotten moist, since it started to work again when I get home. AND this is right before the big hill I’ve heard about. AWESOME (note my sarcasm). I pull my music out of my ears, roll it up and tuck it away in my pocket. Well, these last 5K are now all in my head and I can’t zone out with my music. I find myself walking more and more and looking at my watch more and more. Not good. How can I do this? Should I just give up and ask for a ride to the finish line? The town of Picton then comes into sight and volunteers are encouraging every runner that goes by. “Just a little further”, “You ladies are doing awesome”, “Keep it up”. I find myself smiling and saying thanks to each one. Again, I’m tiring and wanting to give up and walk some more when a police woman yells out, “see that cross walk sign? That’s the finish line! Keep going!” I had a feeling this would happen and it did. I started to choke up, feeling my throat closing in and tears coming to my eyes. Trying to suck it all back and tell myself to calm down, I manage to do so with a few hundred meters to go.
The last few minutes were awesome. I gain some energy and pick up my pace and I close the gap between myself and the finish line. I then see the best sight ever, my husband and son waving and cheering (and taking pictures) on the side lines. I smile my best smile and run the last few meters across the finish line. 2 hours, 41 minutes, 46 seconds. Not fast by all means, not the time I was hoping (10 minutes slower due to more walking in the second half), but still satisfaction that I completed this race. I just ran 21.1K. Bucket list item off my list… but wait…. Maybe not since I may decide to do this again and in a faster time… once my legs have forgotten what I just put them through.
I can say that for anyone who thinks they cannot run, it is possible. I’m living proof of this. I went from a somewhat fit teenager, who hated to run, to an overweight woman who CAN run. I just need to try to eat less LOL. That’s a whole other story. I’m sure there will be more running stories as I now prepare for the fall Fat Ass run, with my thoughts heading forward to next year.