In 5th grade gym class we had to complete a mile run as part of a fitness test. To say the 5th grade me was not a runner just barely touches on reality. Let's just say I never led the pack. Team sports didn't work out well for me (hello, two years of middle school basketball without a single win!). There is a long standing joke in my family about a certain cartoon character I resemble when I run (I am not pure elegance, to say the least). And I remember a family outing with my dad's company once where someone joked that I better get good grades since I surely wasn't going to college on a volleyball scholarship. It was ok. I liked books better than sports anyway.
Needless to say, when I started to run 6 years ago in a desperate attempt to lose the last few pounds of baby weight, my expectations were monumentally low. Since then running has gone up and down for me- interrupted by another pregnancy, caring for 2 small children, a variety of crazy work schedules, etc. When I discovered how much I loved racing a few years ago, it really came as a total shock. But I went with it and I ran quite a few. Between a new job and buying a house, last year I only ran in 2 races- my farthest and my fastest. But only those two and that was a big disappointment to me. Turns out I have a slight competitive side....
So this year I decided that I would do more. I signed up for a 10 mile race, knowing it would be a big stretch for me since my longest race yet to date had been a 10K. I trained for miles on the treadmill through the worst winter in history and finally got out for a few long runs outside after some of the snow melted. When that race was cancelled at the last minute, I was beyond disappointed and in a moment of misdirected frustration signed up for a half marathon. Silly me.
So I trained harder. Had to figure out how to fuel for runs that topped two hours. Ran into some sneaker trouble and shin splints and had to shell out an INSANE amount of money for better shoes that I struggled to adjust to. And worked on my running playlist like a piece of art.
Cut to a few weeks later and I'm standing at the starting line about to run 13.1. There are 700 people around me and, as usual, I'm pretty convinced that I am going to fail miserably. (Didn't help that I had driven the course the day before and it included hills in the last few miles so steep that a sane person would never voluntarily choose to walk up, never mind run).
So I ran. The first four miles felt amazing. The next six felt...ok. The last 3 were physically the hardest thing I have ever done (and I'm even going to throw child birth in that category!) and I knew in those miles that I would never voluntarily run again. The final .1 mile felt like the longest distance I have ever gone.
And suddenly, it was over. I had done it. A bucket list item. HUGE check mark. Now, my time was not the most impressive. I certainly wouldn't brag about it. But it's mine and I'll certainly take it. I didn't lead the pack (as my daughter asked) but after I had rested, drank a bottle of water, texted everyone that I was done and walked around a bit, people were still just crossing the finish line, running their own races and collecting their own victories.
And even better, they were handing out brownies at the finish line. Total win.
So this medal right here....
Is for 5th grade me who barely finished that mile...
...for postpartum me who decided to run a bit on a walk that day....
...for that guy at the company outing who laughed...
...for the me at the starting line who didn't believe...
...for my kiddos who always cheer me on even if they can't be there...
and for the me right now....who is thinking of signing up for another one. :)
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