I did it. I completed my half marathon with a time of 2:17:36. I had set out with a goal in my head of finishing in 2:10:00 – which would have been a 10:00 minute/mile pace.
Before photo:
We look excited to run 13.1 miles, don’t we? So jolly. 🙂
So close. I’ve found, however, this is really a good time over the course of 13.1 miles. I am pretty proud of myself.
And then I saw the photos. LOL
These are not flattering photos: Mile 5
And then again at mile 10
(With my half-crocked smile and cab-door ears flappin in the wind. But, I’m still smiling.)
And then, at the finish. Really pouring it on for that last tenth of a mile.
My friend Cory (in the yellow,) came out to run the last 4 miles with me, to help motivate me through it. He got a cool photo of me at mile 12…
And my friend Clark got a good “Thank god we’re done photo.”
You’re all still with me. Really? I had this idea as I noted that I was getting close to a 200th blog post. Only two or so years into my little home on the web, I realize that I’ve found what I love about doing this; they’re my thoughts, stories, and life, unfiltered. Pen to paper so to speak, and you follow along. Whether it’s out of obligation or because you really enjoy what I have to say, you’re still here. I’m humbled by that. So, thank you and thank you again. Now onto #200!
“Plenty of people miss their share of happiness, Not because they never found it, But because they didn’t stop to enjoy it.” William Feather
I have so much to be thankful for this year. Sure, I’ve had my share of setbacks, but I think they’re common in the regular ebb and flow of life.
Exactly one year ago, I was feeling miserable. A year ago, I looked like this:
I’ve written about this before, my six-day stint in the hospital wasn’t really a pleasant one, it reminded me that maybe I am not as invincible as I thought. Shortly thereafter, I made a promise to myself: A half marathon by year’s end.
So today – as this post hits the ether – I embark on that goal. Today I will be running the “Holiday Half Marathon,” 13.1 miles. Some may think I’m crazy to do so, I was one of them.
Then I started running. My first run, the “Race for the Roses” 5k (3.1 miles,) was the longest run I had done out on the road when I started. It wasn’t too bad, but I wasn’t hooked. I was still somewhat lost. I hadn’t really understood the best way to train.
Then, in August, I really got serious about running. I started to run outside, since it was nice. I started planning routes around my home, enjoying the run. There are hills and I’m crazy, so I recorded video:
And then I noticed that I could run and I was consistent. But I needed goals, so I signed up for the Oktoberfest 10k Road Race (6.2mi):
And then the “Run Like Hell 10k (6.2 Mi)”
And the “Hot Buttered Run 12k (7.5mi)”
Since July 1st, I have run 158.6 miles. With my longest run to date being 11.2(ish) miles. That’s a lot of miles on these tires. And yes, I can’t wait to run some more.
I certainly have not done this alone. I really have to thank a couple of people who have encouraged me (Tim,) answered my questions (Cory and Clark,) and kicked my butt from time to time, when I needed it, of course (Mark.)
Mark & Tim, thanks for joining me on this and many other running adventures. Cory, thanks for “running me in,” as they say.
The other day I was out running along my normal route when a couple things happened to me that I really wanted to share. These things only reminded me that there is a food chain to everything.
Now, safety hawks would tell me that running with full headphones is probably not a good idea, I do it anyways. The music isn’t super loud so I would hear horns and sirens over the top of them, but I need a little something extra to help get me though the rougher points of my run. The other day, as I was running through my own path, on a sidewalk, I was scared almost right out of my shoes.
(used under creative commons, thank you myplacedk!)
From behind, this bicyclist, having seemingly lost full control of his faculties came barreling right next to me, almost catching my right side, no lights, no warning, just him, flying down the street at 6 A.M. Startled but undaunted I carried on.
Towards the end of my run, there is a neighborhood I run through, no sidewalks, a couple hills, lots of trees. It’s really quite peaceful, though it’s pretty dark, and I love its serenity as I am really summoning the last bits of my energy to finally make it home and as it is just barely entering the dawn hour, it’s truly the darkest part of my run. In that last stretch of my run, I tend to go to autopilot, tapping into my music, not really focusing my eyes, just running, listening to my body and talking myself through each step. …And then under my foot I felt a crunch… and not just a stepping on a twig crunch, but something strange, so I stopped and looked back. Upon further examination, I realized that I had just stepped on a squirrel, who, by some other means had been recently made into flapjack.
(Used under creative commons, thank you, Californian Em!)
Uncontrollably, I started laughing, I couldn’t help myself, I don’t know if it was that I had realized that I had done so, or just that I didn’t know what else to do, but as I stood there for a second laughing, I realized that you have to open your eyes, even when life is hard, even when you’re willing yourself to go on, because there are always going to be those who you are larger and who seem to be gunning for you, and there will always be moments when you unintentionally step on someone. The real test is what you do in that moment, if you let it detour you, you miss out on finishing that goal or completing that task.
Be undeterred, be willing to laugh, be willing to shake off the momentary brushes with disaster. Be swift and just, carry on.
I’ve been working my butt off, running, and I’ve never felt better… Except for the constant ache in my legs because I’m stupid enough not to stretch appropriately. I’m going to get yelled at for that.
(Used under Creative Commons, thank you Lazojoey!)
However, as I mentioned in my post: Under Every Rock I’ve been using MyFitnessPal and Runkeeper to track calories and activities. I’ve found a community within them. They’ve really helped me with my goals. From July 1, when I embarked on this crazy mission to lose one fifth of my total weight (I won’t tell you where I started,) I have lost 18 lbs, an average of 1.4 lbs a week. I can’t argue with that success.
Until this week I had been using some interval training (run for a couple minutes, walk for 30 seconds) to get up to a full run. I’ve done full a run a couple of times, a 5k (3 miles) and a 10k (6 miles) but I’d never been able to do it on my normal morning runs, too many hills, until Wednesday. I set out, in the fog and the cold, and just let my body take over. I was panting in some places, I was sweating all over, but I completed it. 5.2 miles, all run. And for a couple of those miles, I felt good, really good. Just like this guy describes in his post.
In August, I ran 50 miles; in September, 54. — That’s like running from Downtown Portland to La Center, and back. The thought of that is dizzying.
This weekend, I got to volunteer for an inaugural all-girl 5K and half-marathon called Run Girl Run. It was a fun event, but there was something pretty interesting that happened to me. I mean, I was a volunteer. I just had to get up, get in the car, and get to the event. As a course marshal, I just had to stand there at the 4.5 mile marker and make sure that someone stopped at the stop sign and that the runners made their way down the right side of the course.
As I left the main area to head over to my designated spot at 7:30 AM, there were only a few runners moseying around. I got to my location and waited:
Alone, I waited. I watched the occasional car drive by, I listened to the roosters crow; I even smelled the faint scent of someone frying bacon in the house next to my post.
And, I waited.
Hark! Ahoy! The first runners came heading up the road. I moved to my designated spot with my orange safety vest and ushered the runners in the right direction.
“Good job!” I said as the first couple of runners came by.
And they said: “Thank you for being here.”
*Blink*
Then the next group, “Thank you!” And the next, “Thank you for doing this!” and again, and again…
Wait, What? I said to the next ones, “You’re doing the hard part! Way to go!”
“Thanks for keeping us safe,” came the reply.
There were nearly 300 runners on the course, and no matter how out of breath they were, how they may have been struggling, they managed to say “thank you.”
And maybe I’m a moosh, but it still moves me.
Maybe there’s something we can all learn from this group of runners with moxie — saying thank you to a person, no matter the circumstances should be the norm, not an exception. How great we all can feel with just a hint of gratitude, just a sliver of acknowledgement.
As all the runners and walkers came by, they said thank you, and I was only one person on the course. I am truly certain they thanked everyone along the course.
I’ve been running lately, and I’ve been street running lately. I figured it was harder to give up when you still had to get back home. At any rate, I live in SW Portland. If you know the area, it’s HILLY, there are HILLS everywhere. Not hills, but OMG BECKY! RUN FOR THE HILLS, hills.
So if you’ll pardon the heavy breathing. This is precisely at 3 miles of my 3.2 mile run.
