Prairie Fire Spring Half Marathon

As I've been thinking about how I want to tell the story of this epic day, it feels a lot like it did when I wrote birth stories about my girls.

Honestly, running 13.1 miles was the hardest thing I've ever done.

So I suppose it deserves it's own birth story.

First things first.

I finished.

I wasn't the last one.

I had a goal of finishing under 3 hours, with a secret desire to run it in 2:36.

Official time for my first half marathon: 2:54

As I think about how the day played out and my reaction to those events, it might appear as if there is a bad guy in this whole thing. 

But I assure you there isn't.

I had no way of knowing how important certain things would be and consequently the effect they would have.

I slept great last night, of which I am so thankful.

I ate a half a banana before I realized I hate bananas and threw the rest away.

I drove myself to the race to get there early and find parking. I told Aleks that he and the girls didn't need to come to the start. I also left him a map of the course, my sunglasses, and half of my bag of energy chews to bring to me at the halfway point.

I wasn't sure if I was going to run with my water belt, but ended up wearing it, mostly for the cell phone storage. I also packed a bit of toilet paper. I knew there would be toilets along the way, but what if they were out of toilet paper?! That would be the worst thing ever.

A lot of us runners huddled under a tent in the runner's village waiting to line up. There was coffee and hot tea, which was so tempting since it was 45 degrees and misting, but there was no way I was going to speed up any kind of digestive process.

I started chatting with another runner next to me and asked what her finish time goal was. She said that originally it was 2:15, but that she had been in the hospital this week and was just hoping to finish. She got released on Thursday with an ok from her doc to run. I only saw her once on the course, she ran out of a port-a-potty ahead of me around mile 3. 

I've been thinking about her a lot this afternoon and evening.

Most of the people around me had a running team with them or were surrounded by family. There was a poster for a first time marathoner created by her twenty something daughter.

I was glad to blame the wind for the water that kept leaking from my eyes.

I realized I had left my watch at home and texted Aleks to see if he could bring it to me along with some ear muffs.

I ate the other half of my energy chews and lined up. 

And heard an awful rendition of the national anthem. In her defense, it was 7:30 AM.

Then we were off!

I found myself behind the 2:30 pacer and decided to follow her awhile and see how it felt.

The first 4 miles were amazing.

There was talking and joking and music and I was feeling good.

Aleks and the girls met me at mile 4 chanting "Go Mommy go! Go Mommy go!" By this point I had warmed up and didn't need the earmuffs and decided to continue without my watch. I had been running with the pacer pretty well up to this point and was feeling great.

Around mile 5-6 I had to pee so I stopped off at the nearest toilet.

When I came out, I wasn't able to run fast enough to catch up to the pacer. I figured once I saw Aleks in the next couple of miles and ate my chews, I could speed up a bit and catch them.

Well, I hit the halfway point and saw no sign of my family.

I continued on. The next water station offered gu. I was hurting pretty badly by this point, having run for over an hour and needed energy. However, I've never used gu before and have heard mixed reviews. I knew Aleks had my tried and true organic chews so I bypassed the gu and just drank water.

Mile 8.

I finally had to stop and walk. I took that chance to call Aleks and see where he was. He and the girls were at the finish line and seemed unable to hook up with me.

Panic set in. Not having the chews and seeing my family affected me psychologically and physically. Somewhere between mile 8 and 9, I experienced muscle pain like I've never felt before. I began to think that I wasn't going to be able to finish.

Aleks called back and asked if I wanted him to be at mile 11. I said yes without hesitation.

Just 2 more miles and I'd see my family and get some energy.

Those two miles were awful. I had fallen behind the mass of people who were going to finish in the 2:30 mark. I was ahead of those who had started off much slower and there were almost no runners around me. I no longer knew how fast I was going or how much distance I had covered.

I felt alone and abandoned.

I put in my ear phones and listened to a mix tape that a friend shared with me and that I had been using during training.

"We don't give a d---, we don't give f---" matched the rhythm my tired feet were pounding into the ground.

At the mile 11 water station I looked around for Aleks, but didn't see him anywhere. I tried to keep running, but my legs were sore in a way that I didn't know how to deal with. As I hobbled to mile 12, there was Aleks. 

I blurted, "I don't think I can do this" while trying not to burst into tears. I grabbed my chews and handed him my belt.

Maia and Ruby were clamoring for my attention, but I had no energy for anything but putting one foot in front of the other. 

Aleks said "You can do it. You don't have to run."

I think hearing that permission gave me the tiniest of boosts and realization that I could finish, even if it wasn't in the way I had dreamed.

As I walked majority of the last mile, volunteers and police officers would shout encouragingly "You're almost there! It's the home stretch!"

Surprisingly, I didn't feel a sense of relief or rejuvenation at their kind words. 

One more step was almost too hard, I couldn't even fathom one more mile.

As I came into the real home stretch I started trotting along once more. There was no way I was going to walk across that finish line. Aleks and the girls had walked from the finish line back to mile 12 and so they weren't there for me to see as I crossed and heard that glorious beep of my timing chip activating.

I was handed my medal, wrapped in one of those shiny silver sheets (what are they for???), and grabbed a bottle of water.

I tried to stretch, but was mostly in a daze and felt disconnected from what was going on around me. Aleks and I finally met up after a couple minutes and I just started sobbing into his chest.

I think this is the first time the girls have seen me cry. Maia told several people today, with a sly glance my way, that there were tears coming out of my eyes when I finished the race.

And then the aftermath got bad. I started to get really lightheaded and Aleks insisted that he drive me home. I also started to feel the need to go to the bathroom, but felt I could make it home.

I was soaking wet (half sweat, half mist) and my legs were still causing me agony.

I couldn't walk to the car or even stand to wait, so I sat on the sidewalk and tried to look perky as people walked past us.

We were almost home when I had to have Aleks pull into a Burger King parking lot so I could use the restroom.

I was very close to having things come out both ends.

We made it home and I immediately got into a hot shower.

Wrapped in my robe and tucked into bed I tried to get warm, but I was cold to the bone and could not stop shivering. Aleks insisted I needed some protein, but I couldn't even fathom putting something into my stomach while I felt so awful. He forced me to drink a small glass of chocolate milk, which I did reluctantly.

I finally drew a hot bath and began to warm up after 15 minutes of soaking.

I finished the race just before 10:30 and it wasn't until 1:30 that I started to feel normal again.

I wasn't expecting to feel this way. After my other long runs I was sore, but nothing like the pain and weakness I experienced.

In all honesty, until this evening, I felt pretty defeated about the whole thing.

I felt like I could have run a better race.

But,

Aleks' coach said something to him the other day that I think is so true.

We can train and plan and do our best to prepare for a race. 

Then on race day things happen that throw our good intentions off track and we just have to deal with things in the best way we can. 

And that's what makes us athletes.

Today, things didn't go how I had envisioned.

However, I finished, and I'm learning that counts for something.

Two years ago I couldn't run a 1/4 mile without stopping.

Today I did 13 point 1 miles. In a row. By foot.

So yeah, I guess that feels pretty good.

So, where does this experience leave me and running?

I'm not going to say that I'll never do another half marathon.

But I'll never again do one alone.

So, anyone need a new running partner?