So I did it, I ran my first half marathon! It might not have
been pretty, but I successfully completed it.
Success meaning I crossed the finish line. I had no
expectations for myself except that I wanted to finish. I didn’t care if it was
on my hands on knees, I just wanted to do it….and I did….a solid 3 hours and 6
minutes later.
Thinking about running for 3 hours seems awful, and at times
it was. I had heard that the course was pretty hilly so I was running hills as
part of my “training” or half-assed training as I like to call it. I ran 6
hilly miles the weekend before to prepare. That was the most I had ever run at
one time and it was only the 3rd time in my life I had ran 6 miles.
Was I in over my head? Possibly. Could I have trained more to prepare?
Absolutely. But when I say I’m going to do something I do it, no matter how
hard it may be or how ugly it may end up.
I knew a handful of people running the half marathon, and
luckily I ran into them all! We met up with Tom and Mike in the parking lot before hand, I saw my old roommate from college Devon and her
sister right by the start, and thankfully I also ran into my HS friend Kelly
and her friend Davia right around the same time. I was able to cross the start with all of my lady friends!
I started running with Davia, who had the same goal as I
did; finish. She had actually only run 6 miles prior to this race as well. We
were meant for each other. Running
through the streets of Baltimore was cool and weird at the same time. I felt so
little running past those big buildings. It almost felt like the buildings were
going to devour me. It was a strange feeling. Luckily we were blessed with such
a beautiful day. The weather couldn’t have been more perfect!
If it wasn’t for Davia, I really don’t think I would have
made it to the end in the amount of time I did. She got me through the first 7
miles, which were the toughest and hilliest. She was there when I needed the
mental motivation. I did not bring headphones to run with, so having someone
there with me was extremely important. I don’t know what I would have done if I
hadn’t run into her before the race started.
She left me at mile 7 because she wanted to run faster, or
something ridiculous. A 12-14 minute mile wasn’t fast enough for you Davia?!
Ha. Just kidding. I’m glad she was able to go on at a faster pace. I was
perfectly content with the pace I was running, or as Jeremy likes to call it,
walking. I knew if I pushed any harder or faster I wouldn’t make it. At this
point my body was not trained to go any faster.
Around mile 9 I lost it. Up until that point I had felt
pretty good about the race. Endurance wise I felt fine, but it was around this
time that I started really feeling the pain in my knees and hips. I had walked
at all of the water stops to hydrate myself, but at mile 9 I felt the need to
stop. Once I started walking the pain in my hips and knees became worse. It was
at this point that I thought about walking the rest of the way. Then I thought
about how much longer it would have taken me to walk those remaining 4 miles…I did not want to be on the streets
of BMORE for that long.
So I got myself together and I picked up the pace. It
actually felt better to jog than it did to walk. So there I was, in order to
not be in so much pain I had to jog. Davia helped me mentally get through the
first 7 miles. Here I was, relying on only myself to get through these next 4
miles physically.
It got louder and louder the closer I got to the finish.
Even if there hadn’t been mile makers I would have been able to sense the
finish coming. There were more people, more cheering, more signs, and more
noise. It was wonderful. With one mile to go I was overcome with serious
emotion and I wasn’t sure where it was coming from. I wasn’t sure if I was just
so happy with myself that I had gotten so far, or if I was in so much pain that
I was just happy to be done. I may never remember exactly what I was feeling in
those moments. All I know is that as I was finishing the last mile by the
warehouse and Camden Yards I was looking forward to holding MY Camden in my
arms. As I passed by the stadium I heard my name being chanted. There they were, my
two favorite boys and my two biggest fans waiting close to the finish line
cheering me on with my sisters. While I saw them and quickly acknowledged that
they were there, I couldn’t make eye contact or I would have cried. At that
point I was physically, emotionally, and mentally tired.
I didn’t care what my time was as
I crossed the finish. That was the furthest thing from my mind. I was proud of
myself for crossing that finish line and not having to do so on my hands and
knees.
The way I felt physically after
the race was worse than I felt after giving birth to Camden. My hips and knees
hurt so bad after the half that I was convinced that my hips were made for
having babies and not running. I guess I had “trained” for 9 months to have a baby
and I only half-ass trained for this half marathon for a couple of months. My
body was worn out. In those moments I said I would never run a half again. Two
days later I am still in pain, but it is bearable, and thoughts of running
another half are crossing my mind, only this time I’m thinking that I would
train a little bit better before running that kind of distance again.
It is safe to say that I would never
run a full marathon. My knees, hips, and head hurt from just thinking about
running longer than 3 hours. Plus, even though they’re not the prettiest things
in the world, I like having toes with toenails too much to run a full.
All in all I’m happy to say I did
it. I’m proud of myself for sticking with it even when I felt like giving up.
Slow and steady wins the race, and
in my book, I won.
