#13 is finally in the books! It wasn't pretty, graceful, or quick, but it's done and I couldn't be happier about it.
I even earned myself a PR! My slowest half ever! I say that a bit self-deprecatingly, but also proudly. I know that's a weird combo, but it's what's going on.
Now that I've had a week to process everything, I will say that I woke up Saturday morning knowing that I was going to accomplish my main goal - finish the race. I didn't know how that was going to get accomplished, but I knew it was going to get done and that's all I needed.
However, if you ask my husband he would not give you as nice or certain of an answer, because on Friday I was a hot mess. I was in my head. I was full of self-doubt and terrifyingly grim thoughts. So much so that I could barely enjoy the expo. He noticed and did try to help, but let's be honest nothing was going to help. No amount of good cheer, good tidings, or inspirational crap was going to help. What did help, was an athletic walk to lunch and enjoying the day with the hubs and sister.
Food has always been a great motivator for me, and the chicken and waffles we had from Milk & Honey was so delicious.
I digress.
So Friday, I was a mess. My knee was hurting, my calf was cramping, and I was in a lousy mood. Don't I sound like a fun time? It's ok, honestly, I know I was miserable.
Saturday dawned super early and found me sleeping through 2 alarms, and waking 30 minutes after I wanted to and 45 minutes before we needed to leave. It was odd, though, because I was calm. I went through everything I needed, made breakfast, checked up on Dana and Steve, ran through all the lists of things we needed to bring and what the plan for the day was. It was nice. It was comfortable and familiar.
We got to the stadium right on time and dozed in the car until 6. It was a bit chillier than any of us had anticipated, but it was still gorgeous.
We made our way over to First Baptist and attempted to take advantage of their generosity, but we cut it a little too short and Dana needed to make her way to her starting corral for the 5k. We walked with her and stood by her corral until she was off. I was able to keep track of her for longer than usual because of her green hair, but soon she was lost in the crowd and I still needed to rest so it was back to First Baptist. Luckily, I had an insider tip and the wait for the restrooms in the basement was a much shorter line.
So after that little detour, it was off to our starting corrals. Steve's corral was 2 in front of mine, so we parted ways at his corral and wished each other good luck. Unbeknownst to us, we could have hung out together for another hour, because that's how long it took to work our way down the chute. I guess having the NFL draft the same weekend as the race, meant that there were a lot more racers than usual.
It was actually nice because I never really lost the pack of runners. It definitely thinned out towards the end of the race, but it was never really gone and when you're out on the course for almost 4 hours having people out there with you helps.
I'm not going to review the race like I usually do, mile by mile, but instead will just give you a brief play by play, because some of the miles were brutal, but there were running angels out on the course that day, and I will never know their names or be able to thank them, but I can tell you guys about what they did and just put it out in the universe that I appreciate these people.
I guess I should count my sister as the first running angel, we were maybe a tenth of a mile into the race and we'd rounded the corner headed to the start of where the 5k had been, and I almost missed her. I don't even know what made me turn my head and look to my left, almost behind me, but I heard her and her hollers. She was jumping up and down like a mad jackrabbit, but I was so excited to see her. I hollered and waved back, and then rounded the curve for the first of many hills.
The second running angel encounter was before we even reached the first-mile marker, we were running up the road that goes in front of the convention center, headed towards the naked ladies dancing statue, and the hill was a little brutal. I got into my head a bit and started wondering if I was going to be able to handle this task, but I put my head down and kept on task. About halfway up the hill, out of nowhere, this gent comes up on my right and says loud enough for me to hear over my music that "You've got this. You're awesome." I jerk my head towards him because he'd startled me and gave him the high five he was waiting for. He then sped up the hill and disappeared into the crowd. I don't know who he was, but he was definitely what I needed to hear at that moment.
I kept a pretty good pace, and decided to enjoy the course, my music, the spectators, and not call my sister yet. For anyone of you who know me or have read this blog for a while, then you know that one of my favorite things to do is to talk to Dana while I'm running. Really, I like to talk, and Dana is easily the most readily available, but she's also one of my fave people to talk to so its a win-win. I wanted to savor the moments I had because I felt really good during the first 4 miles of the race.
The spectators really upped their game. I don't think there was a single stretch of the course that didn't have someone cheering us on, and I am so happy to report that nobody ran out of food or water at any of the stations. That's a huge thing because anyone who's ever been a part of a race and come in towards the back knows that sometimes they run out and you don't get any. Not the best feeling when running a race.
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| This is early in the race. Look how happy I am! |
Dana and I talked for a good long bit and I told her about my running angel, described how the spectators had upped their game, gushed about her awesome race (I won't tell you how well she finished, but I'm super proud of her!), and just chatted. We ended up talking until I was just about halfway done, and then I told her I needed to stop running, or whatever it was that I was doing because power walking was sure to be faster. She told me that it was ok to walk and I was awesome. I was grateful for her encouragement even if I was judging myself.
I can't remember exactly where I was in the course when we stopped talking, but I do know it was because Small Fry was calling me back. So I switched over to him, and the first thing he asks is if I'm still running. Yes, I'm still running, but I'm more than halfway done, and starting to feel really down. I think this is where I had my first bit of tears. I was being really hard on myself and just a negative Nancy. I told him I was sad, and he asked why. So I told him that I had goals and expectations and I wasn't meeting them. I was failing at it, and my ever-so-sweet Small Fry told me that I as long as I finished whatever I did was good enough. How did my angel get to be so smart? He was my second running angel, by simply reminding me of everything I'd ever told him about goals and meeting them, my 9-year old was being my hero.
The next couple of miles were a blur. I did debate with myself about calling Dana back. I wanted to, but at the same time, I knew she was going to be annoyingly optimistic and peppy, the ideal cheerleader, I just didn't want a cheerleader right then. I was in the thick of it. Doubting everything. Hating how I was performing. Wondering if I was even going to finish. Quitting entered my head, but as soon as I contemplated it I threw it out because no matter how bad everything was at that moment, I knew that quitting would be so much worse. It was pretty bad out there though. I decided to concentrate on what I needed to improve on with my next training plan. My left foot was in agony. The arch felt like it was on fire. My hips were so tight and I knew my form was terrible. My lower back hurt. I was making rookie mistakes, but I couldn't seem to help it.
There was light in this miserable tunnel in the form of oranges. I think it was in mile 9 or maybe I was about to get to 9, but we were in a more commercial area and there were at least half a dozen people handing out orange wedges. They were amazing, the oranges and the people. I stopped at every person and thanked the ones that gave me two wedges a little more enthusiastically. Who knew that oranges would taste so good? After the oranges, I was able to pull myself together a bit more and found some more energy.
The next thing I clearly remember is coming up on the St. Jude section. I got teary again, but I'm ok with it. They had pictures up of the children when they were undergoing treatment and presumably when they were in remission because the ages between the two pictures were 5-8 years apart. That was a tough section and afterward, I called Dana back.
She was annoyingly good at being aggressively encouraging. I knew she would be, but after St. Jude I wanted to talk to her. She told me that she'd had a hard time there too, but then we chatted because I was finally along the same course as the 5k. She nattered on about god knows what. I think I grunted at the appropriate times. I think it was right after 10 miles that another running angel showed up. We were going under an overpass, and Dana was chattering away, and from behind me there was a couple that'd I'd seen a few times along the way, and she says to me that I've got this and to keep going. Don't give up. I think I smiled at her and told her I wasn't giving up yet, just moving slow.
I filled Dana in on my 3rd running angel, and unsurprisingly she got even more cheerleader-y (that should be a word). I asked how Steve had done, and he was hanging out with her. I heard him holler through the phone, cheering me on. I was very proud of him, which helped keep me going. We talked about the course change at some point, because I don't remember going all around Bicentennial Park the way we did. Those speed bumps almost did me in. How can they expect me to pick up my leg that high? Clearly, I'm joking but the dark side of my humor was showing more and we had some good chuckles over the clever and creative ways the race organizers were secretly trying to do us in. I also remember commenting on how I didn't like the course change, but I guess the NFL Draft had decided to take up where we usually finish the last mile of the race. Stupid NFL Draft.
Dana and Steve both got more excited as I neared the finish. I think at a mile out she kept screeching that I was so close, and I kept getting mad at her because I was still so far. I mean 5, 280 feet is a lot, especially when you're hurting and you probably should've been done at mile 8. I honestly don't remember when I got off the phone with her, but I know that I didn't talk to her as I crossed the finish line, and I wasn't talking with her when I was able to repay the kindness that one of my running angels had bestowed on me.
As I came to the final bridge, over the Cumberland River, off to the side, sitting on the curb was the very kind woman who'd cheered me on around mile 10. She was cradling her head and hunched over less than a half mile from the finish. I stopped and asked her if she was alright, she said she needed a minute. I told her she had this and that she was so very close. She could do this. I don't know if she realized that she'd cheered me on, but I was reinvigorated over being able to have paid back some of the kindnesses shown me that day. I trudged on with determination.
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| Not the prettiest finish, but it got done. |
I wasn't going to be able to pull a rabbit out of my hat and start running, but I could move with stubborn determination, and that's just what I did. I put my head down and charged forward. I forced my legs to follow the pace that my arms set. The finish line was right there, people around me were starting to pick up the pace, but I didn't care. I started stretching out my legs more, using more of my hips and that actually felt good. Crossing over the finish line was freeing. I'd done it. It hadn't been pretty, but it was done.
I shuffle down the chute and hear Dana and Steve calling my name. I couldn't see anything but them. There was a chainlink fence between us, but I almost knocked it over when I sort of collapsed into Steve's arms and balled on his shoulder. So much emotion vacated my body at that moment, there wasn't talking. He just held me while I cried. Dana, I think, rubbed my shoulder, or maybe it was my pack falling because I'd unclipped it after I'd crossed the finish. Either way, we stood there for a good long bit, and then Stephen told me to look behind me. There were people still crossing the finish line. I wasn't last. I had done it.
We parted ways then so I could gather the rest of the goodies along the chute. I mean, I did need to find the obligatory banana and chocolate milk. They also had gushers. Gushers were my favorite gummy snack growing up. I asked if I could take two, the very best volunteer said yes. It's funny how the simplest things make you the happiest sometimes.
I found Dana and Steve again, and then we sat. My right hamstring wouldn't release, so I sat with it straight out and let gravity work on it while I ate my goodies. I ended up arguing with Dana because I didn't want my banana, but she made me eat half of it. She fussed at me about my chocolate milk, but that had gotten drunk before I'd even started on the banana. There's something very satisfying in proving your sibling wrong. Anyone with siblings knows what I'm talking about, and I think that's about when I started laughing and relaxing. I was so happy. I was in pain, but I was happy. I was already cataloging the changes I needed to make for the next training plan. Going over what I needed to work on and how to improve, because while I was glad to be done with #13, #14 was going to be better.
So that's my recap. It's not necessarily a happy story or the race I wanted but it's real, and I'm excited to see the improvements on my next half.
Thanks for reading!
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