26 miles at 26 years.
Running:
If you asked me two years ago how many miles I ever thought I could run I would have told you maybe two but that would be stretching it. I've never been a runner.. in fact I hated running. It served as a punishment growing up playing on basketball and volleyball teams. I found running to be a torcher tool that just so happened to keep me in shape for the sports I actually cared about. I firmly believed that any one who called themselves a runner was clinically insane and should probably be institutionalized. Now that I've degraded the sport that I now call my own I see fit to explain why it is now a part of me.
I began my journey in March of 2013. I needed something that would replace the void of not having volleyball in my life anymore the way it used to be. I thought why not, running can keep me in shape and it was an excuse to buy a ton of music. And before I knew it I went from a 13:52 minute mile to completing a half marathon in October of that year in only 2 hours and 5 minutes which balanced at a 9.5 minute mile. I learned more about myself in those eight months than I had in my, at the time, twenty four years of existence. I found a new respect for the words dedication and sacrifice. With each run my negative thoughts about who I was or what I looked like slowly faded away. I felt free, new, like I finally found who I had been searching for. As my body grew stronger my thoughts grew more positive. My doubts in myself seemed small and my goals became reachable. After I finished the half marathon, with my emotions at the highest they've ever been, I decided that same day I was going to run a marathon in exactly a year, October 2014, even if it sounded impossible.
I took a few months off and kept my highest mileage at nine just to keep my body in training shape before actually beginning training. My official training started in May. As I looked over my schedule the first number I saw was 22, the furthest I would have to run before the actual 26.2 miles. I'm almost positive my heart skipped a beat as it sunk to the floor. My eyes wide and scared, I taped the sheet of paper with the next 6 months completely planned out on my closet door, tied my running shoes, put my head phones in, pushed play, looked at day one and told myself "You can and you will. You deserve to earn this for yourself.", and then headed out the door on my first 3 miles of the next six months of training.
When it comes to training for anything there comes sacrifices. You have to make the time for what's important to you. In this case, running has been the third most important thing in my life next to my faith and family/friends. You have to be willing to give up some thing's, especially the idea of dating. You have to rearrange your life with your training schedule in mind. In the last six months I've had anything and everything thrown at me at warp speed as if I was not meant to embark on this journey. I've had doubt, more doubt than I'd had in myself in a while. I cried, cried a lot over situations that took my focus off what has been important to me for the last two years. I even lost sight of what I was actually trying to accomplish, I would even go as far to say that I felt outside myself, like I was looking in on a person that I didn't recognize. It took one temporary situation to open my eyes again, to make me see that what's important to me is what mattered. That I am not the decisions that I make. That no matter what I do, I'm still loved, and most of all still me. I became distracted more than I can count on one hand through this whole process, let people take my attention away from what makes me, me. My momentary decisions for that of just moments, I thought I was living in the moment but really I was giving into all that I said I would never be. We all fall victim to circumstances like this, I'm just willing to own up to being temporarily an idiot.
Regardless, I trained, trained extremely hard, possibly to hard. At times I over worked myself but at other times I under worked. It took awhile to find the exact amount of physical activity to get me to where I needed to be on the day of the race. Along the way I ran into a painful sickness that resulted in needing surgery which led to being incapable of physical activity for two weeks. That was terrifying. I was able to get a 20 mile run in prior to getting sick but my training called for two 20 mile runs. I can't even begin to explain how stressed out I was the week of the race. I had only ran a total of maybe 9 miles during that week, my job was mentally draining me because I had been out of the office for so long, there were many things going on with my family, and relationships, just so much keeping my mind from being where it needed to be. I spent most of my nights laying up at night starring at the ceiling contemplating whether I should just wait and try again next year. The night before the race I spent time with three of my very best friends and they reminded me that I had worked way to hard to doubt myself. They kept me grounded that entire weekend, I couldn't be more thankful for them, I really don't think I could have got to the starting line with out them.
During the race I felt fantastic, all my adrenaline started pumping the minute the fireworks went off but it was seriously freezing outside. My hands blew up like balloons and I felt like my face had been frost bitten. I was lucky to have Lacey with me for the first part of the race until her half marathon was complete. (You're awesome girl) On mile 8 my knee started hurting, as if there were a knife being stabbed right in the back of it. I stopped at one of those fancy portable pots, stretched it out for maybe five seconds and then kept going. At that point I told myself listen you've come to far to stop now so suck it up, you aren't hurt. That entire mile was painful but eventually it went away. My thought is maybe I wasn't stretched enough before the race started and that was my bodies way of tell me. When I got to mile 14 I thought there was a possible chance I could legitimately die as I watched all the half marathoners turn to get to the finish line. I had to keep telling myself to just keep breathing. I pushed through that mile and kept thinking if I could just see someone I know that would help so much. I had never wanted to see a familiar face so badly.
At mile 16 I ran through the Shoe (Ohio Stadium) and that was rad. I looked up into the stands and I saw my best friends Amanda and Jeff. That was my saving grace. It gave me the momentum I needed to push through the next 5 miles. When I reached mille 22 I called my mom (as I was running) to make sure she was at the finish line. At that moment I realized that I was actually going to finish this. I had maybe a half hour left of running, that's it. I had been going for 4 hours at this point. I rounded a corner into mile 24 and I could feel my ankle start to swell, that sharp pain in my knew was back, my throat started getting flemmy (from my surgery), and all I wanted was a banana and water, a lot of water. I promised myself I would not walk, the only time I would stop would be to drink my water (partially because I can't run and do something else at the same time). When I got to the final mile I had to smile because otherwise I would cry. Something inside of me kicked in, I gained a momentum I hadn't had since mile 5. I started sprinting, I could see the finish line so I started looking in the stands for my mom and my friends. Once I saw them I couldn't have been happier at that moment. It was as if everything I had worked for was meant for this moment. Having my best friends and my mom right there when I crossed the line I had drawn for myself months before even seeing it in front of me. I crossed the finished line and threw my hands over my face. I remember saying out loud.. "I did it.. wow.. I did it". I didn't start crying until I got over to where my mom was. Tears had never felt so good. It is defiantly a feeling that I will never have again. I accomplished something that would have never happened two years ago. The word healthy means more to me now than it ever has. And running.. well it's changed me.
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| October 19, 2014 Columbus Marathon |
With every mile I ran, every toenail I lost, all the blisters I gained, all the shoes I wore out, all the energy gels I went through, and the gallons of spark and water I drank.. I finished a race. But not just 26.2 miles.. I finished a journey I had promised myself I would complete. And I never break a promise.
Thankful.
