A couple of weeks ago I finally completed my sprint triathlon. It was a 400 yard swim, a 16.8 mile bike ride, and a 5k run. I've been working towards the goal since my super sprint in May, but trained for that since November, so really it's been a 9 month road. Yes, I trained for it longer than some people train for Ninja Warrior or, say, a baby. So you can understand why my fists clench when I talk to people who minimize it or point out that they don't train much for that distance. "Really?! That's so GREAT for you!"
It was about an hour away in a city called Clarksville, which is near Toccoa. My nerves were pretty calm as I woke up early that morning and made the drive up there. That is, until I exited the interstate and drove up and down some pretty massive hills on the way to the aquatic center. I kept reminding myself that they were simply "rolling hills"...nothing to fear.
Thankfully the heat wasn't nearly as terrible as I feared it might be, though it was humid. I checked in, got body marked (still so cool), and started setting up my transition area. I chose a spot next to a friendly looking lady and struck up a conversation with her as we laid everything out. As I kneeled down to lay out my socks on top of my shoes, the entire back rack came crashing down, nearly missing taking my head off. Within seconds, there were about five guys at our aid, pulling my bike up and resetting the bars. It hadn't hurt us or any of our equipment thank the Lord, but it was definitely a close call! Man would I have been mad if I'd had to bow out due to a concussion I suffered BEFORE the race!
With everything set, I did a final bathroom stop and then hit the pool deck. These races that this particular company puts on are pretty small and informal. As such, they don't take silly things like published start times too seriously, so those of us doing the sprint (there was also a super sprint and a kids' tri event) lingered in a line and chatted. There were about 15-20 men and only 5 women doing the sprint. (I'm not going to lie - that felt pretty cool.) We listened to the race director outline the bike route and remind us that we had to do two loops around it for the sprint distance (in case the giant "2" they wrote on our hands wasn't reminder enough.) Finally, at 8:15, he said it was time to begin. I was near the back of the line with about four people behind me (all of whom I checked with at least three times to make sure they didn't want to go before me.) The director staggered everyone one lap behind each other and it wasn't long before it was my turn to get in to pool.
I took a few deep breaths and then as soon as he gave the signal, I pushed off the wall. About 3/4 of the way through, I was gaining on the woman in front of me pretty quickly. I didn't want to pass her, though, because I'd been insistent that she go first. (It was the exact opposite of my first race, when the lady behind me was gaining on me and it pushed me to go faster!) I took the opportunity to pace myself and attempt to simultaneously remember my technique while also not thinking too hard about it and relaxing. I finished just behind her, climbed out, and ran to the transition area which was very close by. As I got ready I reminded myself to slow down and take some extra time. My first transition at the super sprint had been a hurried mess, so between the experience and my new bike bag for my phone, this one went a lot more smoothly. I pedaled out and was on my way.
This bike route only involved two turns, so it was a lot easier than the first race. The hills were indeed rolling, but not bad. The only one that was really monstrous was right after we turned around to come back, which was tough because you were doing it from a dead stop. There were a good many racers already on their way back in and I shouted "Good job!" as I kept my eyes peeled for David and the kids. Like so many other situations in life, I've learned that you can distract yourself from your own issues if you reach out and encourage others. I spotted my crew just pulling into a church parking lot and David jumped out to wave to me. He got back in and they drove past me on the route and shouted encouragement as they went to another spot to wait. It turns out they didn't realize I was only on lap one of the route due to our late start, so they got to see me several more times than they expected. At one point I shouted that I needed water and David had some waiting for me when I returned from my loop. It was so special to have them there as my cheerleaders...and not to nearly die in front of them like I did last time when I missed my turn!
After finishing the bike ride (all in all it was okay, though it did get a little boring doing an out and back two times), I pulled into the transition area to rack my bike. The kids and David were waiting and were able to come right over to say hello. As soon as I stepped off, my knees nearly buckled and I felt that "jelly" feeling that triathletes always refer to. It was unexpected, because I never got it during training. Then again, this was the first time since May that I'd gone swimming and then biking, plus the hills were small but more numerous on this course, so maybe that made a difference. As I picked up my hydration belt to clip-on, I let out a small "Ugggg" at the thought of the 5k I was about to do. Later Luke asked me "Mommy? Why did you make that noise when you picked up that thingy with your water on it?" Because I was dog-tired, son, and about to run three more miles. That's cuz why.
I set out, gave the kids high-fives as I passed them again, and tried to ignore the cramp in my side. The running course was all inside of the park/baseball complex, so I didn't have to worry about watching for cars, which was nice because I'm not sure I would've had the presence of mind at that point. I nearly turned too soon when one of the course directors thought I was already on my second lap, but I figured it out and got back on track quickly. I cranked up my music and played all of the mentally distracting games I could think of, but it was getting hard to ignore that I was tired, it was hot, and my legs were shot. Finally, after what seemed like forever, I turned to do the final stretch to the finish line. Of course it was uphill and took a LOT of mental coaxing to talk myself out of crawling. I remember plodding up it, looking over and seeing David and the kids cheering, and taking out an earbud so I could hear them because I knew it would be what I needed to push me over the line. I crossed it (wasn't able to sprint though) and the volunteer at the end hung the finisher's medal over my neck. Glory be, I'd made it. Thank you Lord!
I walked around, trying to get my heart rate to slow, while chatting with my number one fans. They were so proud of me and it made me feel like the biggest superstar in the world. As my mind cleared, I knew two things without a doubt: 1) That I hadn't left anything on the course (meaning, I pushed myself as hard as I could, which is a good thing) and 2) That I would've stopped and walked some of the run if I hadn't had those two little pairs of eyes watching me and cheering me on.
I changed clothes and we stuck around to see the results. Turns out I finished first in my age group! ...What's that? How many people were there, you ask? Well...let's just say I didn't wait around for the awards ceremony and medal because I didn't quite feel like I earned it. :)
We headed home and celebrated a lot the rest of the day, mostly with food and sleep. On the way back home from our nice dinner that evening, I turned to David and said, "Dude. I did a TRIATHLON today." He laughed and said, "I know! That's crazy!"
It was and still is so surreal. I had trained so hard and so long. I thought back to all those early winter mornings driving 40 minutes roundtrip in the dark to the indoor pool. All those Saturday mornings doing brick workouts. All those days on vacation I got up and drove somewhere to get in my swimming or biking workouts. All the bargaining with God to keep me alive and then the profuse thankfulness I'd whisper breathlessly after finishing another workout without dying. All the time and the planning and the sweat invested. And now it was over. I'd given it my best and I'd finished. It may have been slow and ugly, but God carried me through and now I feel like I have officially earned the title of triathlete. We'll see if it ever happens again, but for now, I'm going to rest with a week off and a lot of chocolate. A LOT of chocolate. I think I've earned it.
Showing posts with label Running. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Running. Show all posts
First Triathlon
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
Last Saturday I did my first triathlon. As I keep saying, whether it will also be my last remains to be seen. It was a very short one...a super sprint to be exact. In case you are like I was six months ago and are totally clueless about triathlon distances, here's a crash course:
The levels go as follows: super sprint (distances vary. Mine was 250 yd swim, 8 mile bike, and 2.25 run), sprint (again, distances vary, but most are around 400-600 yd swim, 12-16 mile bike, and 5k run), then olympic (distance is 0.9 mile swim, 25 mile bike, and 10k run), then half-ironman (1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, and 13.1 half marathon run), and finally ironman (2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and 26.2 full marathon run.)
After typing out those other distances, it's hard for me not to feel deflated about my accomplishment. But I have to remember that I worked really, really hard to accomplish that measly ol' distance and I'm proud of it.
As was the case with the hare-brained idea of half marathons, Kara was actually the one that planted the thought in my head that I could do a tri. We decided we would attempt one together this summer. She'd done a few sprints pre-kids and her husband does them pretty frequently, so I felt good about having her coach me through the training and process. Of course, with her GB and then CIPD diagnoses, she won't be able to join me this year. But knowing she would give anything to be healthy enough to meant I had absolutely no excuse to whine or quit.
Towards the end of November, I decided that given my previous history with swimming, I had better start clocking some pool time. I made up my mind that I was going to go every Monday morning until April and then I would either decide I couldn't hack it OR I would begin going Mondays and Wednesdays. Knowing myself, I made it a one-time, non-negotiable decision. This was not going to be something I debated over every Sunday night. If I left it open for self-dialogue, I'd skip at the first sign of inconvenience. So, every Monday morning, the alarm went off at 5:25 and I would get dressed and drive over to the closest indoor aquatic center nearly 20 minutes away. Honestly, I'm nearly as proud of that commitment as I am of the race itself. Between late November and early April, I only missed four Mondays: one because David was out of town, one because they were closed, one because I was sick, and one because I was visiting Kara.
By early April, however, I realized I was not making good progress at all. It had become torturous for me to drag myself over there week after week and not see much improvement. But I knew I didn't want to throw in the (beach) towel until I'd tried everything, so I signed up for three private swim lessons at Swim Atlanta. Boy, was that the right call! After the first, I finally had hope that I'd be able to do the race after all and by the third lesson (with personal workouts in between), I'd swam the race distance without stopping. I was so pumped. But also extremely nervous because this meant I was going to do the tri!
I registered and kept plugging away at my training. Most plans call for you to squeeze in two workouts of each sport per week. It was not easy to spend 80 minutes on the road a week just getting to and from two swim workouts. I would usually swim Monday, bike or run on Tuesday, swim on Wednesday, bike or run on Thursday, and then do a bike plus run brick workout on Saturday. A week and a half before the big day, I did a trial at the aquatic center, which also had paths around that I could bike and run on. I knew I would feel so much more prepared and be able to relax a little if I went ahead and proved to myself that I could do it. It was tough and the transitions obviously weren't as smooth as they would be on race day, but as I expected, the mental mind games calmed down after I got it under my belt.
The week of the race finally came and it was a really busy one. I stressed about getting in enough workouts and whether I'd tapered too much (and by too much, I meant I was stressing over taking an extra rest day. CALM DOWN, NERVOUS NELLY.) I checked the forecast over and over again and in the days leading up to the race, the rain kept pouring down. How cold was that water going to be? Would I wipe out on the bike?! On top of all that, my cycle and hormones were a wreck too, which did not help physically or emotionally. I talked myself down and decided as long as the race was on, I was doing it. I'd obviously be wet from the swimming and I'd run half marathons in the rain, so as long as I could steady myself on the bike, it would be fine. I prayed for good weather and started my packing checklist (triathlons require a lot of gear!) When things are uncertain and stressful, this girl likes a list. :)
I woke up Saturday morning around 5am and put on my two-piece tri suit (basically a tight tank with a built-in sports bra and bicycle shorts with extra padding in the seat. SUPER flattering, but there's no time to change from a swimsuit.) I checked and double-checked that I had everything and then started the drive over to the location, which was about 45 minutes away. I packed a light breakfast and ate it when I got closer. Registration was set to begin at 6:30am and don't you know I was sitting in that parking lot by 6:20am ready to go like a newbie nerd.
Let me tell y'all the most unexpected thing that brought the biggest grin to my face: After checking in, they "body mark" you. That means they write your race number on both arms and your age on your calf. This is so they can keep tabs on you in the water since you don't wear a race bib and to easily identify you in the event of a medical emergency. Well, as soon as the volunteer finished putting numbers all over me, every bit of nervousness I had was replaced with excitement. It was official now. As short a distance as it was and slow as I would be, the day had finally come and I was about to do a triathlon. (And did I leave those numbers on my arms for two days after, even if they were hidden by sleeves? Yes. Yes I did. I figured I got to keep them for at least as long as my hiney was sore from the bike ride.)
All tatted up, I went over to the transition area and set up everything. I went over and over (and over) each step and what it would require (T1: Exit water. Remove swim cap and goggles. Run to transition barefoot. Flip bucket over and sit. Rinse and dry feet. Put on socks and shoes. Put on helmet. Drink water. Cue up phone. Calm heart rate. Push bike to line. Mount and pedal. T2: Dismount. Push bike up to rack. Rack bike. Remove helmet. Drink water. Clip on hydration belt. Pin on bib. Cue up running app. Eat GU gel as you run out. Breathe.) Shew. See why I reviewed it so many times?!
I chatted and joked around with several people near me. I was put at ease that most of them were as new to this as I was. There were a couple folks that had done other races, and I clung to their tidbits of advice like it was Gospel Truth. One woman seemed especially knowledgable and I asked her how many she'd done. Turns out her very first had been three weeks prior. I decided to ease her off the pedestal. After having someone snap my picture and checking everything just one more time, I knew I was as ready as I'd ever be and made my way over to the pool.
They had two start waves for the swim, 7:30am and 8am, and you got to choose which one you wanted to do. I had planned on doing the later and didn't want to go early since David and the kids were going to meet me on the bike course based on that time. I sat on the side and talked to a woman whose teenager was doing his first triathlon. We watched the swimmers - some expert, some looking like they had never been in a pool before - snake up and down the lanes. I was suddenly very, very grateful for my training.
A few minutes before 8am, I realized I had better go ahead and get in line. I joined the end and talked to a sweet woman who had done a couple before and whose husband had done ironman races before. She urged me to go in front of her, assuring me that she was very slow and would never catch me. (Hold that thought.) I got in the water and watched for my cue to begin. Blissfully, the water was quite warm. I was ridiculously glad about that! At the volunteer's cue, I pushed underwater and began. It took me a couple of laps to find my pace and I was feeling pretty good...until I glanced behind me and saw the lady that urged me to go first was catching me! Worried that she wouldn't feel the freedom to pass me, I sped up a bit. I finished and pushed myself up out of the water. I trotted across the tennis courts to the transition area. One leg down, two to go.
I made a rookie mistake and rushed through my transition too quickly. I had a hard time fiddling with my phone and crossing the start line. After about .25 miles, I pulled over and took 45 seconds to get myself together. Most people do not bike with phones/headphones so they don't have to mess with them. I probably shouldn't either, but I just use one ear and keep it down low. I mainly use it for distance and speed updates. Anyway, after I finally got everything under control, I started back. It was such a small race and we were so spread out that most people I saw were on their way back in. One lady and I passed each other a couple of times, but other than that, I was solo. Every intersection had a police officer and every turn was very clearly marked, which I was so thankful for. I kept wondering when I would see David and the kids and the thought pushed me harder. (As did coming up on intersections where the cop was holding traffic for me. I yelled out to one "Well if you're going to make them wait, I guess I better take it up a notch!" He laughed and yelled back, "No worries. I'll be here all morning!")
Finally, I saw David and the kids off in the distance. Immediately I started tearing up. I know it sounds so silly, but it meant the world that they got to see me in action after all the hard work I'd put in. I distinctly remember back in January walking in the house after a tough swim workout just as Audrey was telling Luke, "Yeah, buddy! Because Mommy is going to do a triathlon!" I knew then that I had no choice. To see them watch me realize this goal was so special. Of course, them seeing me miss a turn? Not quite as special.
Yup. I was so distracted that I drove right past my turn. Suddenly I hear David yelling "Hon! HEATHER! This way!" and the cop echoing his instructions. I slammed on my (extremely noisy) brakes. I was now in the middle of the intersection while the cop tried to stop a car he'd just motioned through the stop sign and I attempted to turn around. David told me later he thought "Welp. This is it. That car is going to take her out and the kids are going to witness their mother's death right here." Once everyone realized I was safe and I got headed in the right direction, I apologized to the officer and pedaled by the kids again. David and I caught each other's eyes and burst out laughing. Oh me!
With that hilarious detour fresh on my mind, I climbed the toughest hill on the course fairly easily. At the top, David and the kids passed me in the car on their way to park near the running course. I managed to make it the rest of the way without any wrong turns. There was one section where traffic had backed up and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't go far to the right because there wasn't a shoulder. I knew better than to go down the middle of the road. I heard myself say "I can't do this" and slow down. To which some other part of me answered, "YES. You can. Do NOT stop." I hugged the right side as best I could until I got through the thickest part of the back-up and the police officer saw me. He stopped the cars so I could turn onto the next road and I pedaled my heart out to the transition area.
The bike rack had gotten very full with a ton of kids' bikes that had been set up for their triathlon that started after the adults'. I couldn't get my bike in until some nice gentleman had pity on me and walked over to offer a hand. I thanked him profusely and then clipped on my hydration belt, pinned my bib, and took off with a GU gel in hand. Two legs down and I was in my wheelhouse now: the run.
I passed David and the kids right after the transition area, which surprised them because I was earlier than they expected. The kids looked so cute holding the little signs they made for me. (I may have bought the poster board and implicitly told David to have them make them...no shame.) I had a cramp in my side for nearly the first mile, but that's where my long distance training kicked in. Back in the day that would've been enough to make me stop, but after training for and running five half marathons, I'd let myself pass out before I would stop for a cramp.
I paced myself and tried to really enjoy the view and the moment. I was doing this. In fact, I was almost done! Towards the end of the run, I saw the woman that had passed me on the bike. I couldn't let her beat me at the run, too! I picked up my speed a little and gave her an encouraging "You've got this!" as I ran past. I rounded the corner and volunteers clapped and cheered, assuring me I was almost there. I took it up just a little, because just a little was all I had left, and I saw David and the kids cheering as I ran across the finish line. One volunteer took my bib tear-off while another hung the finisher's medal around my neck.
I'd made it.
There really aren't any words to describe that feeling of completion and accomplishment. David and the kids caught up to me and offered their congratulations. I was still in disbelief that it was over. All those months of training. All those stupid 6am swims. All those awful hills on the bike. All the running after biking when I felt like I was going to throw up. All of it had been worth it for that very moment.
We took a few pictures and then went back to the transition area to grab my bike and clean up. After that we took a few more pictures. :) I changed into dry clothes while David, Audrey, and Luke went down to the pool to watch the kids' triathlon swim. We sat for a while and then decided it was time to leave. I told David that I was going to head back to the finish line to see if the results were up. I joked that maybe I'd place by default if there were only three women in my age group! I kissed them all goodbye as they got into David's car and headed to a friends' birthday party (if ever I'd earned a skip, it was that day!) I made my way back over to the finish line and tried to slyly glance at the finisher's board. It took several cycles through the results before I could believe it: I'd placed second out of six. WHA?! I hung around to get my medal and tried to keep my goofy smile in check. When they called my name, several of the folks I'd chatted with earlier very sweetly congratulated me. I'd placed. I couldn't believe it. Some say second place is the first loser, but I say I'm the next winner. :)
On the way home I called David and told him and the kids the news. They were as surprised as I had been! Kara called me and left a voicemail, so I called her back and filled her in on the whole race. She was so happy for me and I thanked her for all of the coaching, encouragement, and inspiration. After we finished talking (and we'd both managed to stop laughing about my wrong turn), I stopped and got breakfast at one of my favorite local spots near our old house since I was in the area. When I got home, I took a luxurious shower and then sat on the back deck with my two medals around my neck like a goob. David and the kids came home about an hour later and I let them check out the medals before we all took naps. Later we went out for a celebratory dinner. (Audrey wanted me to wear my medals then too, but I didn't.) I curled up in bed that night with a chocolate dessert cup from Publix and felt very, very satisfied.
I can't believe it's over. Admittedly I am proud of myself, but more than that, I am so thankful. I am thankful for the health and ability to do something like that, especially when I've had such a blatant recent reminder about how fragile and precious good health can be. I'm also grateful for the lessons that I hope my kids learned from my example: With God, all things are possible...including getting back on track after missing your turn. :)
The week of the race finally came and it was a really busy one. I stressed about getting in enough workouts and whether I'd tapered too much (and by too much, I meant I was stressing over taking an extra rest day. CALM DOWN, NERVOUS NELLY.) I checked the forecast over and over again and in the days leading up to the race, the rain kept pouring down. How cold was that water going to be? Would I wipe out on the bike?! On top of all that, my cycle and hormones were a wreck too, which did not help physically or emotionally. I talked myself down and decided as long as the race was on, I was doing it. I'd obviously be wet from the swimming and I'd run half marathons in the rain, so as long as I could steady myself on the bike, it would be fine. I prayed for good weather and started my packing checklist (triathlons require a lot of gear!) When things are uncertain and stressful, this girl likes a list. :)
I woke up Saturday morning around 5am and put on my two-piece tri suit (basically a tight tank with a built-in sports bra and bicycle shorts with extra padding in the seat. SUPER flattering, but there's no time to change from a swimsuit.) I checked and double-checked that I had everything and then started the drive over to the location, which was about 45 minutes away. I packed a light breakfast and ate it when I got closer. Registration was set to begin at 6:30am and don't you know I was sitting in that parking lot by 6:20am ready to go like a newbie nerd.
Let me tell y'all the most unexpected thing that brought the biggest grin to my face: After checking in, they "body mark" you. That means they write your race number on both arms and your age on your calf. This is so they can keep tabs on you in the water since you don't wear a race bib and to easily identify you in the event of a medical emergency. Well, as soon as the volunteer finished putting numbers all over me, every bit of nervousness I had was replaced with excitement. It was official now. As short a distance as it was and slow as I would be, the day had finally come and I was about to do a triathlon. (And did I leave those numbers on my arms for two days after, even if they were hidden by sleeves? Yes. Yes I did. I figured I got to keep them for at least as long as my hiney was sore from the bike ride.)
All tatted up, I went over to the transition area and set up everything. I went over and over (and over) each step and what it would require (T1: Exit water. Remove swim cap and goggles. Run to transition barefoot. Flip bucket over and sit. Rinse and dry feet. Put on socks and shoes. Put on helmet. Drink water. Cue up phone. Calm heart rate. Push bike to line. Mount and pedal. T2: Dismount. Push bike up to rack. Rack bike. Remove helmet. Drink water. Clip on hydration belt. Pin on bib. Cue up running app. Eat GU gel as you run out. Breathe.) Shew. See why I reviewed it so many times?!
I chatted and joked around with several people near me. I was put at ease that most of them were as new to this as I was. There were a couple folks that had done other races, and I clung to their tidbits of advice like it was Gospel Truth. One woman seemed especially knowledgable and I asked her how many she'd done. Turns out her very first had been three weeks prior. I decided to ease her off the pedestal. After having someone snap my picture and checking everything just one more time, I knew I was as ready as I'd ever be and made my way over to the pool.
They had two start waves for the swim, 7:30am and 8am, and you got to choose which one you wanted to do. I had planned on doing the later and didn't want to go early since David and the kids were going to meet me on the bike course based on that time. I sat on the side and talked to a woman whose teenager was doing his first triathlon. We watched the swimmers - some expert, some looking like they had never been in a pool before - snake up and down the lanes. I was suddenly very, very grateful for my training.
A few minutes before 8am, I realized I had better go ahead and get in line. I joined the end and talked to a sweet woman who had done a couple before and whose husband had done ironman races before. She urged me to go in front of her, assuring me that she was very slow and would never catch me. (Hold that thought.) I got in the water and watched for my cue to begin. Blissfully, the water was quite warm. I was ridiculously glad about that! At the volunteer's cue, I pushed underwater and began. It took me a couple of laps to find my pace and I was feeling pretty good...until I glanced behind me and saw the lady that urged me to go first was catching me! Worried that she wouldn't feel the freedom to pass me, I sped up a bit. I finished and pushed myself up out of the water. I trotted across the tennis courts to the transition area. One leg down, two to go.
I made a rookie mistake and rushed through my transition too quickly. I had a hard time fiddling with my phone and crossing the start line. After about .25 miles, I pulled over and took 45 seconds to get myself together. Most people do not bike with phones/headphones so they don't have to mess with them. I probably shouldn't either, but I just use one ear and keep it down low. I mainly use it for distance and speed updates. Anyway, after I finally got everything under control, I started back. It was such a small race and we were so spread out that most people I saw were on their way back in. One lady and I passed each other a couple of times, but other than that, I was solo. Every intersection had a police officer and every turn was very clearly marked, which I was so thankful for. I kept wondering when I would see David and the kids and the thought pushed me harder. (As did coming up on intersections where the cop was holding traffic for me. I yelled out to one "Well if you're going to make them wait, I guess I better take it up a notch!" He laughed and yelled back, "No worries. I'll be here all morning!")
Finally, I saw David and the kids off in the distance. Immediately I started tearing up. I know it sounds so silly, but it meant the world that they got to see me in action after all the hard work I'd put in. I distinctly remember back in January walking in the house after a tough swim workout just as Audrey was telling Luke, "Yeah, buddy! Because Mommy is going to do a triathlon!" I knew then that I had no choice. To see them watch me realize this goal was so special. Of course, them seeing me miss a turn? Not quite as special.
Yup. I was so distracted that I drove right past my turn. Suddenly I hear David yelling "Hon! HEATHER! This way!" and the cop echoing his instructions. I slammed on my (extremely noisy) brakes. I was now in the middle of the intersection while the cop tried to stop a car he'd just motioned through the stop sign and I attempted to turn around. David told me later he thought "Welp. This is it. That car is going to take her out and the kids are going to witness their mother's death right here." Once everyone realized I was safe and I got headed in the right direction, I apologized to the officer and pedaled by the kids again. David and I caught each other's eyes and burst out laughing. Oh me!
With that hilarious detour fresh on my mind, I climbed the toughest hill on the course fairly easily. At the top, David and the kids passed me in the car on their way to park near the running course. I managed to make it the rest of the way without any wrong turns. There was one section where traffic had backed up and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't go far to the right because there wasn't a shoulder. I knew better than to go down the middle of the road. I heard myself say "I can't do this" and slow down. To which some other part of me answered, "YES. You can. Do NOT stop." I hugged the right side as best I could until I got through the thickest part of the back-up and the police officer saw me. He stopped the cars so I could turn onto the next road and I pedaled my heart out to the transition area.
The bike rack had gotten very full with a ton of kids' bikes that had been set up for their triathlon that started after the adults'. I couldn't get my bike in until some nice gentleman had pity on me and walked over to offer a hand. I thanked him profusely and then clipped on my hydration belt, pinned my bib, and took off with a GU gel in hand. Two legs down and I was in my wheelhouse now: the run.
I passed David and the kids right after the transition area, which surprised them because I was earlier than they expected. The kids looked so cute holding the little signs they made for me. (I may have bought the poster board and implicitly told David to have them make them...no shame.) I had a cramp in my side for nearly the first mile, but that's where my long distance training kicked in. Back in the day that would've been enough to make me stop, but after training for and running five half marathons, I'd let myself pass out before I would stop for a cramp.
I paced myself and tried to really enjoy the view and the moment. I was doing this. In fact, I was almost done! Towards the end of the run, I saw the woman that had passed me on the bike. I couldn't let her beat me at the run, too! I picked up my speed a little and gave her an encouraging "You've got this!" as I ran past. I rounded the corner and volunteers clapped and cheered, assuring me I was almost there. I took it up just a little, because just a little was all I had left, and I saw David and the kids cheering as I ran across the finish line. One volunteer took my bib tear-off while another hung the finisher's medal around my neck.
I'd made it.
There really aren't any words to describe that feeling of completion and accomplishment. David and the kids caught up to me and offered their congratulations. I was still in disbelief that it was over. All those months of training. All those stupid 6am swims. All those awful hills on the bike. All the running after biking when I felt like I was going to throw up. All of it had been worth it for that very moment.
We took a few pictures and then went back to the transition area to grab my bike and clean up. After that we took a few more pictures. :) I changed into dry clothes while David, Audrey, and Luke went down to the pool to watch the kids' triathlon swim. We sat for a while and then decided it was time to leave. I told David that I was going to head back to the finish line to see if the results were up. I joked that maybe I'd place by default if there were only three women in my age group! I kissed them all goodbye as they got into David's car and headed to a friends' birthday party (if ever I'd earned a skip, it was that day!) I made my way back over to the finish line and tried to slyly glance at the finisher's board. It took several cycles through the results before I could believe it: I'd placed second out of six. WHA?! I hung around to get my medal and tried to keep my goofy smile in check. When they called my name, several of the folks I'd chatted with earlier very sweetly congratulated me. I'd placed. I couldn't believe it. Some say second place is the first loser, but I say I'm the next winner. :)
On the way home I called David and told him and the kids the news. They were as surprised as I had been! Kara called me and left a voicemail, so I called her back and filled her in on the whole race. She was so happy for me and I thanked her for all of the coaching, encouragement, and inspiration. After we finished talking (and we'd both managed to stop laughing about my wrong turn), I stopped and got breakfast at one of my favorite local spots near our old house since I was in the area. When I got home, I took a luxurious shower and then sat on the back deck with my two medals around my neck like a goob. David and the kids came home about an hour later and I let them check out the medals before we all took naps. Later we went out for a celebratory dinner. (Audrey wanted me to wear my medals then too, but I didn't.) I curled up in bed that night with a chocolate dessert cup from Publix and felt very, very satisfied.
I can't believe it's over. Admittedly I am proud of myself, but more than that, I am so thankful. I am thankful for the health and ability to do something like that, especially when I've had such a blatant recent reminder about how fragile and precious good health can be. I'm also grateful for the lessons that I hope my kids learned from my example: With God, all things are possible...including getting back on track after missing your turn. :)
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1,000 Miles
Thursday, May 28, 2015
But I would walk 500 miles
And I would walk 500 more
Just to be the man who walked 1,000 miles
To fall down at your door
I've had these lyrics by The Proclaimers stuck in my head for weeks ever since I noticed my Nike running app ticking closer to 1,000 miles on its odometer.
I am admittedly proud to say that, after nearly two years, I achieved that benchmark yesterday:
1,000 miles in 202 runs over the course of two years. A THOUSAND MILES. And that does not include the 100 or so I've probably logged on treadmills or completed untracked.
That's an average of 41.7 miles per month, or 9.6 miles per week, of running. My biggest month was 83.2 and my smallest was a lowly 9.1 (February of this year, actually.) But you know what? Every month had a number in it. All 24 of them.
Of course I didn't just begin running two years ago. I have run off and on since high school, doing a dozen or more 5Ks and a couple of 10Ks through the years. But this is certainly the most consistently committed I've ever been to the sport.
Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm not an expert. Those miles were S-L-O-W and often ugly. And I'd say that out of those 202 runs, I probably really only felt like doing about 1/4 of them. Maybe not even that many. The vast majority of them were run at least partially in the dark early morning hours. Many were freezing (or below), many were hot and humid, and some left me soaking wet with rain or snow. Some were while pushing a jogging stroller full of a heavy, whiney child. There was soreness and dehydration to contend with and, as all runners know, the mental hurdles were a beast. Those are always far worse than the physical struggles.
But here's another secret: When I finished each run, I never once regretted going. Not a single time did I think, "I really wish I hadn't run today." Not EVER.
There wasn't any fanfare when my app rolled over that mark yesterday. The monumental mile happened at dawn on my neighborhood streets, like most of the 999 miles before it. It was quite fitting, actually. Because here's what it confirmed for me: Most of the greatest successes in life happen at a painstakingly slow pace, over a long period of time, without a ticker tape parade for every little victory. It's showing up and doing your best to put one foot in front of the other over and over and OVER again even when you don't feel like it.
Actually, especially when you don't feel like it. (See also: Relationships, parenting, marriage, career, homemaking, etc.) I guess you could say it's like running with endurance the race that is set before you. (Hebrews 12:1)
Thank you, Lord, for the health and strength to have accomplished this. I so enjoyed our talks during a great many of those miles. Sorry for huffing and puffing so much.
Here's to another 1,000. Y'all let me know if you want to go out for a jog.
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November 2014 Recap
Saturday, December 13, 2014
You didn't think I'd be back, did you? Well as Luke has taken to saying lately when he's victorious, "Ha-HA!" Here I am again, snuggled in the sunroom at 6am in the morning. It's my favorite spot in the house, especially this time of year. The slim Christmas tree in the corner is lit, as are the icicle lights on the back deck. Sarah McLaughlin's Wintersong is playing on my computer, warm hot chocolate is steaming on the coffee table, and, Lord willin', I have a full hour to get most of this done before someone wakes up. Here we go:
We started November out in a wonderful way by joining some of our oldest and dearest friends for a Georgia Tech game with some tailgating beforehand. We have started trying to do this once per year and last year's game was so hot that we aimed for a later game this go-round. We never imagined it would be as freezing cold as it was! The girls huddled in the back of our 4Runner with the gate up while we ate delicious Chick-fil-A chicken nuggets (a must when one of the group owns one and one works for corporate), sub sandwiches, buffalo chicken dip, and famous Mama O'Kelley cookies made by one of our friend's moms - a favorite treat since about 1999. We each had layers upon layers of clothes on and still nearly froze walking over to the stadium. It was about 32 degrees, which isn't terrible, but the wind was biting. We managed to stay until the beginning of the fourth quarter so we could do the Budweiser song (a tradition) and then power-walked back to the car.
The first full week, David had to head to California and Colorado for work. Audrey had Election Day off, which was wonderful. It's been three months since she started kindergarten and I still miss her terribly. We didn't do anything super special, just shopped for our Operation Christmas Child shoeboxes, enjoyed lunch out, and visited the park for a long time, but I loved having her with us. On Wednesday, I had a room mom meeting with my co-leader and we began to map out the "Winter Holiday" party. Afterwards, I volunteered in the classroom for a couple of hours and stayed to eat lunch with Audrey. David came home the next day and then, that Saturday, we all headed to Villa Rica for my nephew's third birthday party. My sister-in-law Jenny had done an incredible job with the bug-themed cake and cute decorations and we let the cousins have a picnic in the family room floor and then listened to them put on a musical performance after James had opened his presents and got a new little microphone.
The second week of the month, David and I met for a dinner date before attending a meeting at church. Our new campus pastor had approached us about Christmas shopping for a local family on the church's behalf and the meeting had all of the details. Unfortunately, it lacked the actual family info and shopping list, but more on that later. The end of the week, we celebrated Audrey's teacher's birthday by baking a pound cake and taking her flowers, her favorite drink, breakfast, and a gift card from the class. She seemed so appreciative of all of the goodies and as I dropped everything off, I reminded the kids to try extra hard to behave that day. I imagine it worked for at least twenty minutes. God bless teachers. That weekend, we walked the Lanier Under the Lights 5K at Lake Lanier Islands with the kids and David's parents. Although cold, it was a really neat way to begin the holiday season. I packed the kids some hot chocolate and we enjoyed seeing all of the cool displays on foot.
Week three began with church and taking our shoeboxes in for Samaritan's Purse. The kids had done a fantastic job of shopping for them. They'd chosen things with careful thought, gently packed them, and prayed over them. We watched a video online about the kids that receive them and I cried as I once again realized how blessed we are. I was really thankful that Audrey and Luke seemed to truly "get it" and was so proud watching them tote the boxes into church.
That Monday evening, I was asked to attend an HOA meeting to present my neighborhood 5K proposal. Thankfully, it was a small crowd and, Kelly, my sweet small group co-leader surprised me by showing up to offer her moral support. Everything went well and the general consensus seems to be that it's a go, but they want to gauge neighbors' interest a little more. They were planning on sending out a resident survey at the beginning of December and will add a question or two about whether a neighborhood 5K would be something people would participate in. Once they gather those results and see what the response is, they'll make their final decision about granting approval.
Towards the end of the week, Audrey had a Thanksgiving "play" at school. Three of the little kindergarten classes participated and the kids were either turkeys, corn, pilgrim women, pilgrim men, Indian women, or Indian men. She was a pilgrim woman along with about a dozen other little girls and they would say "Mercy Me!" at certain parts of the narrated story. It was so precious! They did about eight songs and she sang every word, but didn't look like she was having a blast. She looked adorable, though, and I couldn't help but sit there and take in the reality that this was going to be one of the last cutsie little programs she would do. I imagine by first or second grade, this kind of stuff goes away.
That Friday morning, I took Audrey to school and ran around with Luke gathering donuts and favorite drinks to take in for Audrey's student teacher's last day. We went up to the school to drop off the food for the class and a gift I'd gotten her from everyone (seriously, not only is being a room mom a part-time job, but it is expensive!) Between party planning, volunteering, the teacher's birthday, the play, and the student teacher's last day, I am starting to see where the majority of November's money and time was spent.
That Friday night, the kids went to David's parents' to spend the night while David and I dragged out the Christmas decorations and began to assemble the big tree. (I know, I know...it was before Thanksgiving! When you have 25+ boxes of decorations and three trees, you have to start early!) The kids came back that Saturday to a half-decorated winter wonderland and the six of us all ate a spaghetti dinner together to help me carb up for my race the next day.
Sunday morning dawned bright and early and...rainy. I'd made up my mind I was going to run my half marathon as long as it was being held. As I drove the hour across town to the park where it was going to be, I tried to mentally prepare myself for the challenge. I sat in the car for as long as I could and then grabbed an umbrella to head to the pavilion where everyone was gathered (no sense in getting drenched before I even started!) In addition to dry clothes for afterward, I had packed an extra shirt, jacket, socks, and shoes in case I wanted to change mid-race. They started the clock and we headed for the five loops and an out-and-back course, whose boredom would prove to be a hurdle in and of itself. The first couple of miles as I watched the water droplets fall off of the corner of my ball cap, I thought "This is amazing! This is so hardcore! You are doing this!" By mile four I was thinking, "This is insane. This is miserable. WHY are you doing this!?" But I knew why - because once you do hard things like run half marathons in single digit wind chills (last November) and pouring rain, something in you changes and you realize "hey, I can do really, really hard things." That sense of accomplishment can never be taken away. It gives me strength to draw from when other tough stuff comes.
Finally, after running for what seemed like days, I crossed the finish line. Because of the awful weather, David and the kids had stayed home, so it was an anti-climatic and lonely finish, but it was finally over. Drenched doesn't begin to describe it. My pants had stretched out from the water so I had run on the bottom of them for most of the race. My shoes were so water-logged and heavy that my quads ached for days afterward. My time wasn't the greatest, but it was by far my most mentally challenging race to date. I'd made it and I had the medal with the wrong date to prove it. (Seriously.) Still, there's nothing like that satisfaction and I praised God for giving me the strength and endurance...and hot water for one of the most painful showers of my life (chaffing).
The rest of the week was a breeze compared to Sunday, especially since I had purposely lined up some relaxation and fun so I could think about it during the run. Audrey was out all week and Monday was spent mainly chilling and relaxing together, with a long afternoon at the park. On Tuesday, our favorite non-family sitter came over while I went to get my hair done and then...drumroll, please...got a massage. I'd purchased a Groupon at the beginning of the year and thought I'd have no problem using it. Turns out I barely made it before it expired.
That Wednesday afternoon, David got off work early and we drove up to his parents' house to celebrate with his Dad's side of the family. We ate a ton of delicious food and then Luke tossed a little ball around with people and Audrey played waitress as we sat around and caught up. We headed home and put the kids to bed and then woke up the next morning and drove to David's aunt's house to celebrate with his mom's side of the family. It was supposed to be my side's year, but we rearranged things since both sets of my parents had plans. The Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade was on and everyone chatted while the finishing touches were laid out. We stuffed ourselves some more and then topped it off with a huge buffet of desserts. When everyone's stomachs were sufficiently miserable, David's Aunt Pat gave the kids some toy snowballs and we had a huge fake snowball fight in their mostly empty bonus room. Everyone had an absolute blast, especially listening to Luke yell "HA!" and watching him hike his leg up to pitch a ball at someone. It took me 45 minutes to get him calmed down enough to take a short nap, but it was totally worth it. When he got up, we packed up and headed back to our house to do our traditional tree decorating and lighting.
The next day was sheer perfection, y'all. I stayed up pretty late doing some Black Friday shopping online, so I slept in until nearly 7am, which is a rare treat in our house. We got up and ate breakfast and then decorated our other two trees, the kids' table top trees, and the outside. We had no agenda and zero place to be. I kept thinking there was something I was forgetting to do and somewhere we needed to get ready to go to, and then I'd be pleasantly surprised as I remembered neither was true. We ate and rested and decorated and chilled and ate some more. It was fantastic.
The next day, we opted to get out and do a little shopping before the crowds got bad. We hunted around 4-5 different places for a snowman to put in the front yard and finally found one at Walmart, along with the perfect lights for AJ's tree per her request (colored, non-LED with white wire - nearly impossible! I have no idea where the girl gets her OCD for finding just the right thing she has visualized!) We ate lunch at Buffalo's and then came home for Audrey and I to change clothes and go see The Nutcracker at the Gwinnett Center. It was a wonderful girls' afternoon out. Though the show was a little long for both our tastes (I like my culture in short doses), she truly loved it. I watched her way more than the actual show. At one point when the snow began to fall onstage, her mouth literally dropped open. It was magical to see it through her eyes. We headed home, got in pajamas, and ate pizza while watching Frosty. To say it was a wonderful Thanksgiving weekend doesn't do it justice.
The last day of the month we had church and then our small group social that afternoon. We ended the semester on such a great note, celebrating with friends who had become closer and strangers who had become friends over the course of fourteen weeks. We'll be co-leading again next semester and are looking forward to continuing to learn and serve with those returning.
So we started and ended the month on fantastic notes with a whole lot of good stuff in the middle. It would've been a lot shorter post if I'd just written that, huh?! Sorry it is so long, but apparently I had a lot to say about all of the cool happenings!
I'm working on gathering, organizing, and editing pictures and will update when they're posted.
We started November out in a wonderful way by joining some of our oldest and dearest friends for a Georgia Tech game with some tailgating beforehand. We have started trying to do this once per year and last year's game was so hot that we aimed for a later game this go-round. We never imagined it would be as freezing cold as it was! The girls huddled in the back of our 4Runner with the gate up while we ate delicious Chick-fil-A chicken nuggets (a must when one of the group owns one and one works for corporate), sub sandwiches, buffalo chicken dip, and famous Mama O'Kelley cookies made by one of our friend's moms - a favorite treat since about 1999. We each had layers upon layers of clothes on and still nearly froze walking over to the stadium. It was about 32 degrees, which isn't terrible, but the wind was biting. We managed to stay until the beginning of the fourth quarter so we could do the Budweiser song (a tradition) and then power-walked back to the car.
The first full week, David had to head to California and Colorado for work. Audrey had Election Day off, which was wonderful. It's been three months since she started kindergarten and I still miss her terribly. We didn't do anything super special, just shopped for our Operation Christmas Child shoeboxes, enjoyed lunch out, and visited the park for a long time, but I loved having her with us. On Wednesday, I had a room mom meeting with my co-leader and we began to map out the "Winter Holiday" party. Afterwards, I volunteered in the classroom for a couple of hours and stayed to eat lunch with Audrey. David came home the next day and then, that Saturday, we all headed to Villa Rica for my nephew's third birthday party. My sister-in-law Jenny had done an incredible job with the bug-themed cake and cute decorations and we let the cousins have a picnic in the family room floor and then listened to them put on a musical performance after James had opened his presents and got a new little microphone.
The second week of the month, David and I met for a dinner date before attending a meeting at church. Our new campus pastor had approached us about Christmas shopping for a local family on the church's behalf and the meeting had all of the details. Unfortunately, it lacked the actual family info and shopping list, but more on that later. The end of the week, we celebrated Audrey's teacher's birthday by baking a pound cake and taking her flowers, her favorite drink, breakfast, and a gift card from the class. She seemed so appreciative of all of the goodies and as I dropped everything off, I reminded the kids to try extra hard to behave that day. I imagine it worked for at least twenty minutes. God bless teachers. That weekend, we walked the Lanier Under the Lights 5K at Lake Lanier Islands with the kids and David's parents. Although cold, it was a really neat way to begin the holiday season. I packed the kids some hot chocolate and we enjoyed seeing all of the cool displays on foot.
Week three began with church and taking our shoeboxes in for Samaritan's Purse. The kids had done a fantastic job of shopping for them. They'd chosen things with careful thought, gently packed them, and prayed over them. We watched a video online about the kids that receive them and I cried as I once again realized how blessed we are. I was really thankful that Audrey and Luke seemed to truly "get it" and was so proud watching them tote the boxes into church.
That Monday evening, I was asked to attend an HOA meeting to present my neighborhood 5K proposal. Thankfully, it was a small crowd and, Kelly, my sweet small group co-leader surprised me by showing up to offer her moral support. Everything went well and the general consensus seems to be that it's a go, but they want to gauge neighbors' interest a little more. They were planning on sending out a resident survey at the beginning of December and will add a question or two about whether a neighborhood 5K would be something people would participate in. Once they gather those results and see what the response is, they'll make their final decision about granting approval.
Towards the end of the week, Audrey had a Thanksgiving "play" at school. Three of the little kindergarten classes participated and the kids were either turkeys, corn, pilgrim women, pilgrim men, Indian women, or Indian men. She was a pilgrim woman along with about a dozen other little girls and they would say "Mercy Me!" at certain parts of the narrated story. It was so precious! They did about eight songs and she sang every word, but didn't look like she was having a blast. She looked adorable, though, and I couldn't help but sit there and take in the reality that this was going to be one of the last cutsie little programs she would do. I imagine by first or second grade, this kind of stuff goes away.
That Friday morning, I took Audrey to school and ran around with Luke gathering donuts and favorite drinks to take in for Audrey's student teacher's last day. We went up to the school to drop off the food for the class and a gift I'd gotten her from everyone (seriously, not only is being a room mom a part-time job, but it is expensive!) Between party planning, volunteering, the teacher's birthday, the play, and the student teacher's last day, I am starting to see where the majority of November's money and time was spent.
That Friday night, the kids went to David's parents' to spend the night while David and I dragged out the Christmas decorations and began to assemble the big tree. (I know, I know...it was before Thanksgiving! When you have 25+ boxes of decorations and three trees, you have to start early!) The kids came back that Saturday to a half-decorated winter wonderland and the six of us all ate a spaghetti dinner together to help me carb up for my race the next day.
Sunday morning dawned bright and early and...rainy. I'd made up my mind I was going to run my half marathon as long as it was being held. As I drove the hour across town to the park where it was going to be, I tried to mentally prepare myself for the challenge. I sat in the car for as long as I could and then grabbed an umbrella to head to the pavilion where everyone was gathered (no sense in getting drenched before I even started!) In addition to dry clothes for afterward, I had packed an extra shirt, jacket, socks, and shoes in case I wanted to change mid-race. They started the clock and we headed for the five loops and an out-and-back course, whose boredom would prove to be a hurdle in and of itself. The first couple of miles as I watched the water droplets fall off of the corner of my ball cap, I thought "This is amazing! This is so hardcore! You are doing this!" By mile four I was thinking, "This is insane. This is miserable. WHY are you doing this!?" But I knew why - because once you do hard things like run half marathons in single digit wind chills (last November) and pouring rain, something in you changes and you realize "hey, I can do really, really hard things." That sense of accomplishment can never be taken away. It gives me strength to draw from when other tough stuff comes.
Finally, after running for what seemed like days, I crossed the finish line. Because of the awful weather, David and the kids had stayed home, so it was an anti-climatic and lonely finish, but it was finally over. Drenched doesn't begin to describe it. My pants had stretched out from the water so I had run on the bottom of them for most of the race. My shoes were so water-logged and heavy that my quads ached for days afterward. My time wasn't the greatest, but it was by far my most mentally challenging race to date. I'd made it and I had the medal with the wrong date to prove it. (Seriously.) Still, there's nothing like that satisfaction and I praised God for giving me the strength and endurance...and hot water for one of the most painful showers of my life (chaffing).
The rest of the week was a breeze compared to Sunday, especially since I had purposely lined up some relaxation and fun so I could think about it during the run. Audrey was out all week and Monday was spent mainly chilling and relaxing together, with a long afternoon at the park. On Tuesday, our favorite non-family sitter came over while I went to get my hair done and then...drumroll, please...got a massage. I'd purchased a Groupon at the beginning of the year and thought I'd have no problem using it. Turns out I barely made it before it expired.
That Wednesday afternoon, David got off work early and we drove up to his parents' house to celebrate with his Dad's side of the family. We ate a ton of delicious food and then Luke tossed a little ball around with people and Audrey played waitress as we sat around and caught up. We headed home and put the kids to bed and then woke up the next morning and drove to David's aunt's house to celebrate with his mom's side of the family. It was supposed to be my side's year, but we rearranged things since both sets of my parents had plans. The Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade was on and everyone chatted while the finishing touches were laid out. We stuffed ourselves some more and then topped it off with a huge buffet of desserts. When everyone's stomachs were sufficiently miserable, David's Aunt Pat gave the kids some toy snowballs and we had a huge fake snowball fight in their mostly empty bonus room. Everyone had an absolute blast, especially listening to Luke yell "HA!" and watching him hike his leg up to pitch a ball at someone. It took me 45 minutes to get him calmed down enough to take a short nap, but it was totally worth it. When he got up, we packed up and headed back to our house to do our traditional tree decorating and lighting.
The next day was sheer perfection, y'all. I stayed up pretty late doing some Black Friday shopping online, so I slept in until nearly 7am, which is a rare treat in our house. We got up and ate breakfast and then decorated our other two trees, the kids' table top trees, and the outside. We had no agenda and zero place to be. I kept thinking there was something I was forgetting to do and somewhere we needed to get ready to go to, and then I'd be pleasantly surprised as I remembered neither was true. We ate and rested and decorated and chilled and ate some more. It was fantastic.
The next day, we opted to get out and do a little shopping before the crowds got bad. We hunted around 4-5 different places for a snowman to put in the front yard and finally found one at Walmart, along with the perfect lights for AJ's tree per her request (colored, non-LED with white wire - nearly impossible! I have no idea where the girl gets her OCD for finding just the right thing she has visualized!) We ate lunch at Buffalo's and then came home for Audrey and I to change clothes and go see The Nutcracker at the Gwinnett Center. It was a wonderful girls' afternoon out. Though the show was a little long for both our tastes (I like my culture in short doses), she truly loved it. I watched her way more than the actual show. At one point when the snow began to fall onstage, her mouth literally dropped open. It was magical to see it through her eyes. We headed home, got in pajamas, and ate pizza while watching Frosty. To say it was a wonderful Thanksgiving weekend doesn't do it justice.
The last day of the month we had church and then our small group social that afternoon. We ended the semester on such a great note, celebrating with friends who had become closer and strangers who had become friends over the course of fourteen weeks. We'll be co-leading again next semester and are looking forward to continuing to learn and serve with those returning.
So we started and ended the month on fantastic notes with a whole lot of good stuff in the middle. It would've been a lot shorter post if I'd just written that, huh?! Sorry it is so long, but apparently I had a lot to say about all of the cool happenings!
I'm working on gathering, organizing, and editing pictures and will update when they're posted.
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Fun Run
Monday, March 24, 2014
This past weekend was my big race - half marathon #3. I had been feeling anxious about it for weeks. I already felt undertrained for the hilly course and losing a week to my UTI didn't help. By the time Saturday night rolled around and we returned home from a neighbor's birthday party, I was almost in downright dread. Then, as David was saying prayers before we put the kids to bed he said something that caused an immediate shift in my outlook. His prayer was simply, "Lord, help Mommy have a good race tomorrow morning. Let her have fun and be safe."
Have fun?
Huh.
Now I know this may blow you Type-B personalities away, but the thought hadn't really occurred to me to have fun. At least, that was not on the list of my top priorities. This was a goal to meet. A thing to check off the list. A finish line to cross...literally. Fun would be great if it happened, but it wasn't part of the deal.
But when he said that, I thought, "Why the heck not?" I realize I'm not going to be first in any of these big races. Of course, good Lord willin' and the creek don't rise, I won't be last, either. But what is the point of investing so much time and hard work into what is ultimately a hobby if you don't enjoy it? And, truthfully, it's been a while since I've enjoyed running. Instead, it has become a boring habit. It's something I have moments of elatedness during (usually in the last 1/2 mile) and that I certainly am happy with the results of, but the love of it can be hard to find while alone at 6am in the cold and dark.
But this race, I decided, would be fun. I would enjoy it regardless of my performance. As soon as I made up my mind to do that, the pressure lifted and I relaxed....until the next morning, that is.
I popped out of bed at 5am, having gotten a better night's sleep than with my other two halves. I got ready and quietly kissed David goodbye. Heading towards the interstate, I was a good four miles from home when I realized I had left my wallet behind. "No problem," I thought as I turned the car around. "You left in plenty of time. Just go get it and we'll try this again."
Back on the road, I searched the radio for some tunes to wake me up and get me in the spirit. Every single station had djs running their mouths. Every. Single. One. Do you know how hard it is to get in a happy, upbeat mood at 6am when people are talking about legalization of marijuana, gardening tips, and back pain? Yeah.
I finally got off my exit and weaved my way through traffic to a parking deck. I had purchased "Will Call" for packet pick up, so I left my headphones, hydration belt, and GU Gel in the car while I went to go get my bib. I'd go grab my packet, come back and drop off it and the t-shirt, pick up my things, and be ready to go. No sweat.
Alas, there was actually a lot of sweat involved. It would've worked perfectly, except that I was totally unprepared for the distance I had to walk to get to will-call, especially against the flow of thousands of people heading in the opposite direction. Still a block away and without any place to cut over a street, I glanced at my watch. 6:46. I still had to get my packet, hike all the way back to the car, and then back to the starting line madness! There was also the small issue of taking a bathroom break before starting. The lines at the port-a-potties were insane! I knew I wouldn't start right at 7, but I was still in a panic. Maybe I'd get a really late corral. Once I broke free from the crowd and spotted the Will Call booth, I began to run. I grabbed the packet (Corral J? UGG! Not far enough back!) and the too-small shirt and sprinted towards the parking deck. Tears stung in my eyes as the thought of missing the whole thing entered my head. I've worked too hard for too long!
Fun? NO. I am NOT having fun, Lord. HELP!
I rounded the corner and saw a line of completely empty port-a-potties. This is unheard of for a big race. I ducked in and out quickly and continued my run towards the parking deck. I made it back to the car then ran towards the start line area, which had already shifted a lot because of all of the corrals that had started. I was sweating, stressed out, and had already run at least 3/4 mile. I decided to cut over a street and hope it was somewhat close to where I need to be. I squinted for the sign and read the corral. It was J. I calmed my heart and stretched what muscles I could for a minute. I talked myself down. I felt God whisper, "You can do this. I've got you. Don't write it all off before you've even started." I breathed in deep and clicked my watch as my foot hit the start line. Ready or not.
As I turned on Pandora to start, an upbeat Bee Gees song that reminded me of my Dad filled my ears. Then I remembered a text from my Mom that had come in but that I didn't read in the rush. I looked at it and felt her prayers and encouragement. As the crowd began to thin out just enough for me to have some elbow room, I glanced to my left and saw the J. Mack Robinson College of Business building. We were on Georgia State campus and right in the thick of my old stomping grounds. My eyes took in the whole area, new and old. I thought about all of the times I'd walked along that street on my way to and from class. I never would've dreamed that nearly nine years later I'd be running a half marathon down the very same roads. My phone buzzed and I read an encouraging note from my father-in-law. Later, my mother-in-law sent one and, eventually, once he and the kids were awake, fed, and settled, I got one from David too. (They didn't come down to this one due to the threat of bad weather, so the poor guy was doing the morning routine alone. I was lucky he remembered where I was. ) I felt myself ease into my pace and turned on an audiobook. As the city began to wake up and the darkness dissipated, I couldn't deny it: I was having fun.
Every mile or so there were crowds cheering us on with bells, clappers, and posters. Some of my favorites were: "Good job, Random Stranger!", "Worst Parade Ever", "Smile if you've peed a little", "Hill? What hill?!" (to which one runner beside me yelled, "WHAT HILL? THIS HILL. THIS HILL RIGHT HERE!" We all laughed.) There were the usual "If it was easy, everyone would do it" and "The faster you go, the faster you're through!" and "Pain is weakness leaving the body" etc. By far my favorite that made me laugh out loud was "If this was easy, it would be called 'Your Mom'". I know it's incredibly immature, but that one had me laughing for a good 1/4 mile. It just reminded me so much of our group of friends in high school and college who never missed the opportunity for a great "Your Momma" joke.
We entered parts of the city I was less familiar with - Little Five Points, Virginia Highlands - and areas I'd never been in at all - Inman Park, The Carter Center. When we were away from the shelter of buildings, the wind was kind of strong. It blew the blossoms off of the Bradford Pears and it looked like snow falling down. It was beautiful.
I knew mile 9 - 10.5 was the toughest hill-wise and tried to prepare myself for it. We crossed a tiny bridge that offered a gorgeous view of the city and I tried to make a mental note of where we were so I could come back and show David. We made it up a tough hill and entered Piedmont Park. There was a sign and volunteers stationed around telling people where to split for the half marathon vs. the full marathon. For a minute, I thought about taking the right turn. I knew I'd have to walk a lot, but there was no doubt in my mind I could do a full 26.2 miles. It would probably take me well over 5 hours, but I knew I could finish. Then I questioned whether they would even let me in because I was only registered for the half. I also knew that it would probably mean not getting a full marathon medal, and quite frankly, that sealed it for me. There was no way I was going to do my first full marathon and not get a medal for it. I decided to stick with the plan. Maybe one day, but not that day.
We ran through a lot of residential areas and neighborhoods with people outside drinking coffee in their pajamas and cheering for us. We entered Technology Square on Georgia Tech Campus and things became familiar again. As I ran down Techwood Drive I thought about David and all our memories there. I saw the stadium and recalled the many games we'd gone to with friends. It began to rain, but not hard. I climbed the hill up North Avenue to Tech Parkway and a gigantic inflatable Buzz greeted us with groups of Tech students around giving out oranges and water. I was in the home stretch and I knew it. I kicked it up, passed the 12 mile marker, and kicked it up again. I knew because of all of the hills that I wasn't going to set a PR like I did on the extremely flat Thanksgiving Day half, but I still had a chance to beat my first half's time. The cheering crowds thickened around me and I pushed harder. I found one of my go-to songs, cranked it up, and ran until I thought my heart would burst.
I crossed the finish line and stopped my watch. 2 hours 29 minutes and 2 seconds. Not my best time (2 hrs 22 min 35 sec) but not my slowest...barely (2 hrs 29 min 20 seconds). The hills were tough, but they weren't unbeatable. I'd managed to run every step of them. The best part? It was by far the most fun of the three halves I'd done. The course was a great run down...and up....memory lane, but more than that, my soul was refreshed. I'd fallen in love with running again. My mind had been focused right where it should've been: Enjoying the gifts of health and ability that God gave me and the beauty of my surroundings - human and otherwise.
I let it sink in that I'd just run 13.1 miles. Again. And in the end I'd had a great time and still met my goal. Who knew? :)
Have fun?
Huh.
Now I know this may blow you Type-B personalities away, but the thought hadn't really occurred to me to have fun. At least, that was not on the list of my top priorities. This was a goal to meet. A thing to check off the list. A finish line to cross...literally. Fun would be great if it happened, but it wasn't part of the deal.
But when he said that, I thought, "Why the heck not?" I realize I'm not going to be first in any of these big races. Of course, good Lord willin' and the creek don't rise, I won't be last, either. But what is the point of investing so much time and hard work into what is ultimately a hobby if you don't enjoy it? And, truthfully, it's been a while since I've enjoyed running. Instead, it has become a boring habit. It's something I have moments of elatedness during (usually in the last 1/2 mile) and that I certainly am happy with the results of, but the love of it can be hard to find while alone at 6am in the cold and dark.
But this race, I decided, would be fun. I would enjoy it regardless of my performance. As soon as I made up my mind to do that, the pressure lifted and I relaxed....until the next morning, that is.
I popped out of bed at 5am, having gotten a better night's sleep than with my other two halves. I got ready and quietly kissed David goodbye. Heading towards the interstate, I was a good four miles from home when I realized I had left my wallet behind. "No problem," I thought as I turned the car around. "You left in plenty of time. Just go get it and we'll try this again."
Back on the road, I searched the radio for some tunes to wake me up and get me in the spirit. Every single station had djs running their mouths. Every. Single. One. Do you know how hard it is to get in a happy, upbeat mood at 6am when people are talking about legalization of marijuana, gardening tips, and back pain? Yeah.
I finally got off my exit and weaved my way through traffic to a parking deck. I had purchased "Will Call" for packet pick up, so I left my headphones, hydration belt, and GU Gel in the car while I went to go get my bib. I'd go grab my packet, come back and drop off it and the t-shirt, pick up my things, and be ready to go. No sweat.
Alas, there was actually a lot of sweat involved. It would've worked perfectly, except that I was totally unprepared for the distance I had to walk to get to will-call, especially against the flow of thousands of people heading in the opposite direction. Still a block away and without any place to cut over a street, I glanced at my watch. 6:46. I still had to get my packet, hike all the way back to the car, and then back to the starting line madness! There was also the small issue of taking a bathroom break before starting. The lines at the port-a-potties were insane! I knew I wouldn't start right at 7, but I was still in a panic. Maybe I'd get a really late corral. Once I broke free from the crowd and spotted the Will Call booth, I began to run. I grabbed the packet (Corral J? UGG! Not far enough back!) and the too-small shirt and sprinted towards the parking deck. Tears stung in my eyes as the thought of missing the whole thing entered my head. I've worked too hard for too long!
Fun? NO. I am NOT having fun, Lord. HELP!
I rounded the corner and saw a line of completely empty port-a-potties. This is unheard of for a big race. I ducked in and out quickly and continued my run towards the parking deck. I made it back to the car then ran towards the start line area, which had already shifted a lot because of all of the corrals that had started. I was sweating, stressed out, and had already run at least 3/4 mile. I decided to cut over a street and hope it was somewhat close to where I need to be. I squinted for the sign and read the corral. It was J. I calmed my heart and stretched what muscles I could for a minute. I talked myself down. I felt God whisper, "You can do this. I've got you. Don't write it all off before you've even started." I breathed in deep and clicked my watch as my foot hit the start line. Ready or not.
As I turned on Pandora to start, an upbeat Bee Gees song that reminded me of my Dad filled my ears. Then I remembered a text from my Mom that had come in but that I didn't read in the rush. I looked at it and felt her prayers and encouragement. As the crowd began to thin out just enough for me to have some elbow room, I glanced to my left and saw the J. Mack Robinson College of Business building. We were on Georgia State campus and right in the thick of my old stomping grounds. My eyes took in the whole area, new and old. I thought about all of the times I'd walked along that street on my way to and from class. I never would've dreamed that nearly nine years later I'd be running a half marathon down the very same roads. My phone buzzed and I read an encouraging note from my father-in-law. Later, my mother-in-law sent one and, eventually, once he and the kids were awake, fed, and settled, I got one from David too. (They didn't come down to this one due to the threat of bad weather, so the poor guy was doing the morning routine alone. I was lucky he remembered where I was. ) I felt myself ease into my pace and turned on an audiobook. As the city began to wake up and the darkness dissipated, I couldn't deny it: I was having fun.
Every mile or so there were crowds cheering us on with bells, clappers, and posters. Some of my favorites were: "Good job, Random Stranger!", "Worst Parade Ever", "Smile if you've peed a little", "Hill? What hill?!" (to which one runner beside me yelled, "WHAT HILL? THIS HILL. THIS HILL RIGHT HERE!" We all laughed.) There were the usual "If it was easy, everyone would do it" and "The faster you go, the faster you're through!" and "Pain is weakness leaving the body" etc. By far my favorite that made me laugh out loud was "If this was easy, it would be called 'Your Mom'". I know it's incredibly immature, but that one had me laughing for a good 1/4 mile. It just reminded me so much of our group of friends in high school and college who never missed the opportunity for a great "Your Momma" joke.
We entered parts of the city I was less familiar with - Little Five Points, Virginia Highlands - and areas I'd never been in at all - Inman Park, The Carter Center. When we were away from the shelter of buildings, the wind was kind of strong. It blew the blossoms off of the Bradford Pears and it looked like snow falling down. It was beautiful.
I knew mile 9 - 10.5 was the toughest hill-wise and tried to prepare myself for it. We crossed a tiny bridge that offered a gorgeous view of the city and I tried to make a mental note of where we were so I could come back and show David. We made it up a tough hill and entered Piedmont Park. There was a sign and volunteers stationed around telling people where to split for the half marathon vs. the full marathon. For a minute, I thought about taking the right turn. I knew I'd have to walk a lot, but there was no doubt in my mind I could do a full 26.2 miles. It would probably take me well over 5 hours, but I knew I could finish. Then I questioned whether they would even let me in because I was only registered for the half. I also knew that it would probably mean not getting a full marathon medal, and quite frankly, that sealed it for me. There was no way I was going to do my first full marathon and not get a medal for it. I decided to stick with the plan. Maybe one day, but not that day.
We ran through a lot of residential areas and neighborhoods with people outside drinking coffee in their pajamas and cheering for us. We entered Technology Square on Georgia Tech Campus and things became familiar again. As I ran down Techwood Drive I thought about David and all our memories there. I saw the stadium and recalled the many games we'd gone to with friends. It began to rain, but not hard. I climbed the hill up North Avenue to Tech Parkway and a gigantic inflatable Buzz greeted us with groups of Tech students around giving out oranges and water. I was in the home stretch and I knew it. I kicked it up, passed the 12 mile marker, and kicked it up again. I knew because of all of the hills that I wasn't going to set a PR like I did on the extremely flat Thanksgiving Day half, but I still had a chance to beat my first half's time. The cheering crowds thickened around me and I pushed harder. I found one of my go-to songs, cranked it up, and ran until I thought my heart would burst.
I crossed the finish line and stopped my watch. 2 hours 29 minutes and 2 seconds. Not my best time (2 hrs 22 min 35 sec) but not my slowest...barely (2 hrs 29 min 20 seconds). The hills were tough, but they weren't unbeatable. I'd managed to run every step of them. The best part? It was by far the most fun of the three halves I'd done. The course was a great run down...and up....memory lane, but more than that, my soul was refreshed. I'd fallen in love with running again. My mind had been focused right where it should've been: Enjoying the gifts of health and ability that God gave me and the beauty of my surroundings - human and otherwise.
I let it sink in that I'd just run 13.1 miles. Again. And in the end I'd had a great time and still met my goal. Who knew? :)
Ecstatic to be finished.
My sweet notes and drawings from my favorite cheerleaders. The picture on the left is Audrey and I running up a hill (I'd told her I was nervous about the course) and the one on the far right says: "Get out and do it, Mommy. You can do it. Love Audrey, Luke, Daddy."
Done, Baby Girl.
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Half Marathon #2/Thanksgiving 2013
Thursday, December 19, 2013
This year's Thanksgiving was the coldest one since 1910. And because I was out there running my second half marathon in the brisk 24 degree air, I can say I commemorated the record-breaking temperatures well.
The night before the Turkey Day race, I was a bundle of nerves. The cold had been brutal earlier that day while I was out running errands and the wind cut through to the bones. Nonetheless, I had trained hard and was going to at least attempt to do this thang. I figured worst-case scenario, I could veer off course into a warm gas station and call David to come pick me up. Sometimes all you need is to know you have an out to make your brain okay with moving forward.
I was determined to get more sleep than I did the night before my last half and turned out the light around 10pm. Unfortunately, I didn't sleep well at all and, in fact, was awake at 3:30am for good. I left around 6:00am and drove carefully over to the race site, avoiding the icy patches on the roads. A friend of mine had recommended wearing a black trash bag to hold the heat in. I skeptically took one along just in case. As I pulled into a parking space, I saw a guy next to me get out and put one on. "Oh!" I thought. "This really is a thing. Okay!" Turns out he and I were the only two who thought it was a thing. The haphazard way that I tore it made it even more comical, I'm sure. I wore it during stretches and then ditched it. The race was delayed about about ten minutes because they were salting ice on the course (it was fo' REAL cold, y'all.) I sat in the car as long as possible and then made my way to the start line. Ready or not...
The first mile or so was tough. My hands hurt so badly that I was already questioning whether I could make it. I prayed as I flexed them inside my gloves and the pain subsided by the second mile. I watched others around me, most barely identifiable as humans under their mounds of clothing, scarves, and hats. Of course there was one guy in shorts. There's always one guy.
The mile markers on the course were way off, which made it tough mentally, but my Nike app kept me posted. I knew pretty early on that I was going to have to make restroom pitstop. For a runner, the mental anguish of knowing you're going to have to "go" is even worse than the discomfort of having to go. You start stressing about how long you can wait, where you'll find a potty, IF you'll find a potty, etc. It is torturous. This was a much smaller race than my last so there weren't any port-a-johns along the route. I finally eyed a BP on the horizon, stopped my watch as I stepped off the course, ran all the way inside and to the bathroom, and had the quickest restroom trip in history. I restarted my watch as I sprinted back down to the course. Relief!
With all the time I'd had on my hands the night before, I read some articles and inspirational quotes about running. One word of advice from a coach stuck in my head: "Run the first third of your race with your head, the second third with your personality, and the last third with your heart." I put his advice into play and focused on form and breathing for the first third. The second third I kept reminding myself how stubborn and determined I am. The final third was most definitely all heart, as it was the toughest.
Another thing I realized is that the more I focus outward, the better I do. When I reached the half-way point and turned around, I began to notice those that were behind me on the other side of the road. I yelled encouraging words to them and cheered them on and it was amazing how much it helped me. I imagined how hard they'd worked to get there and what their stories were. Was this their first half? Had they lost a bunch of weight? Were they running to honor someone or specifically for the cause (Children's Healthcare)? I prayed for their endurance and strength as I passed them. It dawned on me how much of a metaphor this was for life - the more I shifted away from thinking of myself and my "aches" and began focusing on others, encouraging them, and praying for all of us, the better the race seemed to go. This very much holds true in my personal everyday life as well.
But alas, even when I do get a runner's high and an important life lesson, it doesn't carry me forever. By mile 9 or 10 I was struggling. My normal pace is between 11:30-12 minute miles (I'm slow, but I get there!) This race, however, I hadn't had a mile over 11 minutes. I was booking it to get it over with! In my training runs, the last mile or two is typically the easiest because I know I'm almost finished. In this half and my previous one, though, the end has been the hardest because I have pushed so hard through the entire course. I texted David updates along the last couple of miles and cranked up my music as loud as I could stand it. I played mental games, prayed for almost everyone I knew, and tried to power through. The course was much flatter than the last race, so that helped immensely. Still, 13 miles is a LOOOOOONG way. Especially in those temps. My water bottles kept forming ice on the caps and, as unladylike as it is, I became quite familiar with the term "snotscicle." But hey, if you look pretty when it's over, you didn't work hard enough, right?!
Finally I hit the 12 mile mark. Around 12.5 miles I increased my speed a little. As the finish line came into view, I strained my eyes to look for my family. I saw them bundled up, waving and cheering and my eyes stung with tears as I waved back. There is nothing - absolutely nothing - like having the ones you love there to cheer you on as you accomplish one of your biggest and hardest goals. I envision it on nearly every long run and actually getting to see them at the end of my races has meant the world.
I crossed the finish line having shaved nearly six minutes off my first half marathon's time. I was elated. And cold. And tired. But mostly elated. Again, I praise God for the strength and endurance to make it through. Never, ever did I think I'd do a half marathon and most certainly not two. And yet, as we drove to Alabama to celebrate Thanksgiving with David's mom's family, I stared down at the medal in my hand and knew I had.
We got to David's grandparents' and I immediately jumped in the shower (much to their relief, I'm sure.) I got cleaned up and we feasted on the usual amazing meal plus several extra dishes his Grandma had slaved over. Everyone was so sweet in congratulating me and asking about the race and I knew they'd all been praying for my run. We caught up, laughed over Luke and Audrey's antics, and took a few pictures before Luke and I both laid down for a nap. I slept for about half an hour and then we all hung out until it was time to hit the road for home around 4:30pm.
We got back to our house and reheated some leftovers. After dinner, we decorated our tree while watching the Macy's Tree Lighting. I cannot explain the overwhelming joy I felt being able to do that in our new home. As I said on my Thanksgiving TT post, I was so disappointed to miss our tradition last year. The kids loved playing with their ornaments and Audrey critiqued her homemade ones from last year. Apparently she doesn't remember her Mama's red solo cup bell. We timed the angel with the tree lighting finale (we know, we are SUCH dorks) and then hurried the kids into their beds. We crashed not long after they were asleep, fat and happy.
The next day was a flurry of cleaning, decorating, and preparing for Thanksgiving #2 with David's dad's side of the family. I'm not sure if it has just been awhile since we'd hosted a non-birthday party gathering, but we both completely underestimated how much work we had left to do to pull it off. Somehow it all came together in the end, though. Everyone arrived and we ate and ate and ate and talked and talked and talked. It had been several years since the whole group of us were in the same place at the same time and it was really nice to see everyone together again. The kids warmed up to everyone almost immediately. I'm not sure whether they laughed harder or made everyone else laugh harder at them. We capped off the night with the obligatory group picture and everyone left with plenty of their choice foods in tupperware containers and baggies. We fell into bed tired but happy and were quite thankful we still had two days of the long holiday weekend ahead of us.
I can't quite remember what we did with the rest of the break, though I know cleaning up, church, playing, decorating, Christmas shopping/wrapping, and at least one nap were a part of it. It was a wonderful Thanksgiving and every bit of it was enjoyable. Okay, maybe not that first or ninth mile, but the rest of it was great. The food was wonderful, as was knowing I earned every bite. We loved seeing all of David's family and I loved hearing the voices of mine. Such a great day! Like the temps, it was definitely one for the record books.
The night before the Turkey Day race, I was a bundle of nerves. The cold had been brutal earlier that day while I was out running errands and the wind cut through to the bones. Nonetheless, I had trained hard and was going to at least attempt to do this thang. I figured worst-case scenario, I could veer off course into a warm gas station and call David to come pick me up. Sometimes all you need is to know you have an out to make your brain okay with moving forward.
I was determined to get more sleep than I did the night before my last half and turned out the light around 10pm. Unfortunately, I didn't sleep well at all and, in fact, was awake at 3:30am for good. I left around 6:00am and drove carefully over to the race site, avoiding the icy patches on the roads. A friend of mine had recommended wearing a black trash bag to hold the heat in. I skeptically took one along just in case. As I pulled into a parking space, I saw a guy next to me get out and put one on. "Oh!" I thought. "This really is a thing. Okay!" Turns out he and I were the only two who thought it was a thing. The haphazard way that I tore it made it even more comical, I'm sure. I wore it during stretches and then ditched it. The race was delayed about about ten minutes because they were salting ice on the course (it was fo' REAL cold, y'all.) I sat in the car as long as possible and then made my way to the start line. Ready or not...
The first mile or so was tough. My hands hurt so badly that I was already questioning whether I could make it. I prayed as I flexed them inside my gloves and the pain subsided by the second mile. I watched others around me, most barely identifiable as humans under their mounds of clothing, scarves, and hats. Of course there was one guy in shorts. There's always one guy.
The mile markers on the course were way off, which made it tough mentally, but my Nike app kept me posted. I knew pretty early on that I was going to have to make restroom pitstop. For a runner, the mental anguish of knowing you're going to have to "go" is even worse than the discomfort of having to go. You start stressing about how long you can wait, where you'll find a potty, IF you'll find a potty, etc. It is torturous. This was a much smaller race than my last so there weren't any port-a-johns along the route. I finally eyed a BP on the horizon, stopped my watch as I stepped off the course, ran all the way inside and to the bathroom, and had the quickest restroom trip in history. I restarted my watch as I sprinted back down to the course. Relief!
With all the time I'd had on my hands the night before, I read some articles and inspirational quotes about running. One word of advice from a coach stuck in my head: "Run the first third of your race with your head, the second third with your personality, and the last third with your heart." I put his advice into play and focused on form and breathing for the first third. The second third I kept reminding myself how stubborn and determined I am. The final third was most definitely all heart, as it was the toughest.
Another thing I realized is that the more I focus outward, the better I do. When I reached the half-way point and turned around, I began to notice those that were behind me on the other side of the road. I yelled encouraging words to them and cheered them on and it was amazing how much it helped me. I imagined how hard they'd worked to get there and what their stories were. Was this their first half? Had they lost a bunch of weight? Were they running to honor someone or specifically for the cause (Children's Healthcare)? I prayed for their endurance and strength as I passed them. It dawned on me how much of a metaphor this was for life - the more I shifted away from thinking of myself and my "aches" and began focusing on others, encouraging them, and praying for all of us, the better the race seemed to go. This very much holds true in my personal everyday life as well.
But alas, even when I do get a runner's high and an important life lesson, it doesn't carry me forever. By mile 9 or 10 I was struggling. My normal pace is between 11:30-12 minute miles (I'm slow, but I get there!) This race, however, I hadn't had a mile over 11 minutes. I was booking it to get it over with! In my training runs, the last mile or two is typically the easiest because I know I'm almost finished. In this half and my previous one, though, the end has been the hardest because I have pushed so hard through the entire course. I texted David updates along the last couple of miles and cranked up my music as loud as I could stand it. I played mental games, prayed for almost everyone I knew, and tried to power through. The course was much flatter than the last race, so that helped immensely. Still, 13 miles is a LOOOOOONG way. Especially in those temps. My water bottles kept forming ice on the caps and, as unladylike as it is, I became quite familiar with the term "snotscicle." But hey, if you look pretty when it's over, you didn't work hard enough, right?!
Finally I hit the 12 mile mark. Around 12.5 miles I increased my speed a little. As the finish line came into view, I strained my eyes to look for my family. I saw them bundled up, waving and cheering and my eyes stung with tears as I waved back. There is nothing - absolutely nothing - like having the ones you love there to cheer you on as you accomplish one of your biggest and hardest goals. I envision it on nearly every long run and actually getting to see them at the end of my races has meant the world.
I crossed the finish line having shaved nearly six minutes off my first half marathon's time. I was elated. And cold. And tired. But mostly elated. Again, I praise God for the strength and endurance to make it through. Never, ever did I think I'd do a half marathon and most certainly not two. And yet, as we drove to Alabama to celebrate Thanksgiving with David's mom's family, I stared down at the medal in my hand and knew I had.
We got to David's grandparents' and I immediately jumped in the shower (much to their relief, I'm sure.) I got cleaned up and we feasted on the usual amazing meal plus several extra dishes his Grandma had slaved over. Everyone was so sweet in congratulating me and asking about the race and I knew they'd all been praying for my run. We caught up, laughed over Luke and Audrey's antics, and took a few pictures before Luke and I both laid down for a nap. I slept for about half an hour and then we all hung out until it was time to hit the road for home around 4:30pm.
We got back to our house and reheated some leftovers. After dinner, we decorated our tree while watching the Macy's Tree Lighting. I cannot explain the overwhelming joy I felt being able to do that in our new home. As I said on my Thanksgiving TT post, I was so disappointed to miss our tradition last year. The kids loved playing with their ornaments and Audrey critiqued her homemade ones from last year. Apparently she doesn't remember her Mama's red solo cup bell. We timed the angel with the tree lighting finale (we know, we are SUCH dorks) and then hurried the kids into their beds. We crashed not long after they were asleep, fat and happy.
The next day was a flurry of cleaning, decorating, and preparing for Thanksgiving #2 with David's dad's side of the family. I'm not sure if it has just been awhile since we'd hosted a non-birthday party gathering, but we both completely underestimated how much work we had left to do to pull it off. Somehow it all came together in the end, though. Everyone arrived and we ate and ate and ate and talked and talked and talked. It had been several years since the whole group of us were in the same place at the same time and it was really nice to see everyone together again. The kids warmed up to everyone almost immediately. I'm not sure whether they laughed harder or made everyone else laugh harder at them. We capped off the night with the obligatory group picture and everyone left with plenty of their choice foods in tupperware containers and baggies. We fell into bed tired but happy and were quite thankful we still had two days of the long holiday weekend ahead of us.
I can't quite remember what we did with the rest of the break, though I know cleaning up, church, playing, decorating, Christmas shopping/wrapping, and at least one nap were a part of it. It was a wonderful Thanksgiving and every bit of it was enjoyable. Okay, maybe not that first or ninth mile, but the rest of it was great. The food was wonderful, as was knowing I earned every bite. We loved seeing all of David's family and I loved hearing the voices of mine. Such a great day! Like the temps, it was definitely one for the record books.
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