I didn't really train.
But I like to run.
Actually, I have LEARNED to LOVE running.
As a mom of 3 young girls, running is my only true "alone" time. My "me" time. My prayer time. My talk with Jesus, pray with Jesus, LISTEN to Jesus time.
And so, I decided to run a half marathon.
Way back in January, when everyone writes down their goals for the year, I listed that I wanted to run a 5K, a 10K, and a half marathon.
Here it was November, and I hadn't checked the half marathon box.
I hadn't really even looked around to find a half marathon close to my area to run.
I successfully completed a 5K...
*Can't seem to find a picture, but I promise I did it! :)
And a 10K...
Ran that one in the pouring down rain.
Up several hills. (Hence the name of the run - Hospital HILL)
Had a personal best time and blew myself away really with how well I did (51:59).
My goal time was an hour...
Going into my half marathon, I didn't have high expectations for myself.
I was simply thankful to be able to run.
You see, when I was 18, I never thought I would be able to run again.
Several days before the State Track Meet (which I was super excited to have qualified for in 2 events), I tore cartilage in both knees. Instead of pole vaulting and running the first leg in a 4x100 relay, I was hobbling around on crutches.
Rather than playing collegiate volleyball, I sat on the sidelines as the team manager and spent practices upstairs in the weight room doing rehab. I had put my crutches away just days before arriving in Chicago for my freshmen year.
Then, that fall, walking to my daycare job, I somehow managed to dislocate the screw holding my cartilage in place in my right knee. I then spent my Christmas vacation having a third knee surgery and on crutches once more.
By the grace of God, I was able to re-introduce exercise into my daily routine again. Instead of running, I took up biking. I would read page after page of my college textbooks while pedaling away on the stationary bike. I spent HOURS in the gym. My junior and senior years, I was able to enjoy the Chicago lakefront as a runner!!! I also got to scrimmage with the girls' basketball team, play intramural sports, and basically enjoy whatever physical activity I wanted. Blessed beyond words.
Having lived in Chicago during college, I got to witness the Chicago marathon every year, four times over. One year, I even called my mom and jokingly told her I had ran in the marathon. Granted, I just had to cross the street to get to the bus taking us to church that morning, but still... I technically had run IN the Chicago marathon...
Fast forward nearly 10 years (man do I feel old), and here I am seriously considering running the whole Chicago Marathon come October 2015.
Why not?
If I can run a half marathon, then I bet I could run a full one.
But not on my own.'
I've already asked a friend to consider running with me.
For the half marathon, I signed up so late, I didn't really have time to find a friend to jump at the chance to run with me, last minute. So I ran solo. I did come to realize a few people I knew were also running the race, but when I randomly crossed paths with them that morning as we all lined up at the starting line, it was a little late to ask if I could join their band of buddies who had trained together over the past several months.
I figured I would use the next 2.5 hours or so as "Jesus and me" time. I found the K-Love app on my phone, put my earphones in, and let the worship music carry me the first 7 miles or so. Then, the app stopped working and the silence in my ears was nearly deafening. Suddenly, I was hurting and feeling tired and wondering how much longer I could go on like this. I quickly pulled my phone out of my flip belt, switched to the Air 1 app. My ears and heart were flooded once more with songs of praise, and I was able to pound out the next 3 miles with confidence.
At mile 10, I was coming up to a water station when I saw one of the Pacers just up ahead. He was looking back to see if anyone was wanting to finish out the race with him. In his hand was a 2:00 sign!!! I smiled, surprised I had caught up with him, seeing as how I started out with the 2:15 group and had slowly passed one person after another. A friend had given me some advice that helped her when she ran a half marathon. "Look in front of you and pick out a person who you think shouldn't be running faster than you. Then, make it your goal to pass them." And so that is what I had done, mile after mile after mile. As the Pacer glanced back, I raised my hand and waved, indicating that I was intent on finishing the course with him.
He didn't wait for me though.
I made it my goal to catch up to him, and I did.
As I ran by his side, he asked me if had started out ahead or behind him.
Behind. Way behind.
He let me know we were right on track now and that I would be able to finish strong.
Every half mile or so, he would encourage me and yell back at others behind us that they too could make the race in 2 hours.
Around mile 11.5, we came up to a man who was just stopping to walk. Both the Pacer and I coached him, "Keep going. Don't stop now. You're almost there. You can do it. Come with us!"
And so he did.
We continued running together until mile 12.
One mile left.
It was go time.
I didn't have anything left, but adrenaline kicked in.
There were still people in front of me who shouldn't be.
So, I started to pass them, one by one.
Mile 13.
I could see the finish line ahead.
I saw the clock ticking.
1:57...
I was really going to do it!
I was going to break the 2 hour mark!
I sprinted ahead, determined to beat the girl next to me.
We crossed the finish line together.
1:58.4!
Exhausted and panting, I knelt on the side of the road.
My bladder let me know I couldn't rest for long.
I quickly got up, received my Finisher's Medal, and made my way to the nearest Port-a-Potty.
First, of course, I had to stop and capture the moment with a selfie...
Once I had gone to the bathroom, I walked to my car as fast as I could.
Funny, my legs had felt fine during the race. All 13.1 miles of it.
But, as soon as I stopped running, they felt all wobbly. Like jello.
I knew I was going to be sore the next day.
Right then, though, I had one thing on my mind - getting home to my baby girl who would probably want to nurse.
Pretty sure that little girl is my motivating factor.
Knowing she was waiting for me at home when I was running in the pouring rain for my 10K helped me climb the hills and push through any pain or fatigue I may have been feeling. The same proved true for my half marathon.
Even though my baby girl and her 2 older sisters weren't there in person to cheer me on, they were certainly there with me every step of the way. I carried their smiles and laughs in my heart. I ran for them. To show them that they too can do anything they put their minds to.
Who cares that I've had 3 knee surgeries.
And 2 foot surgeries to remove extra bones.
And had to wear a hip brace for the first 6 weeks of my life.
None of that mattered.
Not when I decided I was going to run a half marathon.
I didn't expect to run it as fast as I did, but I knew no matter what I was going to run it and finish it.
My time was a pleasant surprise, the icing on the cake.
As I reflect on my race and grimace as I walk and laugh at myself going down the stairs backwards like a baby just learning to maneuver them, I can't help but think about how far too often we limit ourselves.
We put ourselves in a box.
We let fear or circumstances keep us from doing something new, from reaching a goal.
We come up with lots of reasons why we can't, when we haven't even tried at all.
And thus we miss out on crossing that finish line.
We don't experience the joy and pride and sense of accomplishment when we surprise ourselves and do better than we ever expected or even imagined possible.
Maybe you're not a runner, and you think I am just plain crazy for running 13.1 miles.
You should have seen all the bumper stickers on the cars in the parking lot at the race.
26.2
50
70.3
100
Now, that's insane!
And while I might raise my eyebrows, deep down inside I have a great respect for those runners.
For those men and women who push past the pain and keep going and going and going.
No matter your stance on running, I would personally be honored to come up beside you, much like the 2:00 Pacer did for me during the half marathon. I would consider it a privilege to encourage you, support you, motivate you, pray for you, and celebrate with you as you follow the path marked out before you.
Perhaps you are on an uphill climb.
Maybe you're in a valley low.
You might be in a dark tunnel, with not even a hint of light coming through.
You could be plummeting downhill, unable to keep up with the momentum that is pushing you forward when all you want to do is stop and rest.
Maybe you are on the sidelines, just looking on and not sure how to get back in the race, or wondering if you even want to make the effort to do so at all.
Or you might on a flat, boring course. You can see for miles and miles ahead, but don't like a thing you see.
Perhaps you are at a fork in the road, trying desperately to decide which way to go.
As Robert Frost once did, "take the road less traveled."
It will make all the difference.
The year isn't over yet.
I don't know what goals or resolutions you made for yourself this past January.
I don't know if you have worked on them or not.
But I DO know there is still time to check some boxes, to accomplish some things, to fulfill dreams.
If I can run 13.1 miles, YOU can achieve whatever YOU set YOUR mind to as well.
YOU can do it.
Put your heart into it.
Surprise yourself.
You'll be so very glad you did!
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