Hello, Half Marathon
Ok, so let me begin by saying, I have never been a runner. Never. Not in high school. Not in college. Whenever anyone would ask about running, I was the girl that would snicker and say, "I only run when being chased." Well, not so much any more. Last year, I signed up to attend Wanderlust here in Chicago. Wanderlust is a national festival that moves from city to city and consists of a 5K (3.1 miles), an hour of yoga and wraps up with group meditation. Being the dedicated yogini that I am, I mostly signed up for the yoga and meditation, but figured what the heck. I'll give the 5k a whirl. So I invited a dear friend of mine to attend the event with me. I'll never forget the rainy, grey Chicago day. Not ideal for yoga in the grass. But I digress, first to the race. I remember telling my friend that I have no idea how this is going to go so if she wants to just take off, I'll meet her back at the finish line. (I should note that my friend is a trained athlete who competes in local triathlons) She was cool about it, said it was just a fun run for her, no biggie. Well, low & behold, I ran. I kept up. I finished. Right along side my friend. Of course, because of me, she ran in the slow lane but I'm OK with that. The rest of the day was a wash... rain got worse, we went for waffles, yada, yada, yada. Point being, that was the first time I ever ran. And I did good. And I felt good. I was stoked at my little old 3.1 miles.
So I kept running. Signing up for a run here & there. Not doing a lot of in-between runs but every now and again would hit it on my own. Fast forward to the New Year. Goodbye alcohol, Hello Sobriety! I'm committed to not drinking. I'm dedicated to my yoga practice and starting to enjoy running more and more. So I sign up for a frigid New Years Day 5K followed by The Polar Dash 10K this past weekend. I hadn't prepared much for the 10K, but it's only 6.2 miles so I thought "eh. I got this." I ran four miles a few nights earlier and was feeling really good. I'm ready for Saturday!
Saturday morning I get up early, walk the pooch, grab a coffee and head to the race. I'm all decked out in my warm, winter running gear (even though it was in the upper 30's so it was actually quite nice). When I get to the starting line, people are already lining up. So I stretch, take a few picts, find my cute little penguin pacers and start mentally preparing for my little run. Stretch again. Check the watch. Plenty of time before the race... wait. What?? People are running?? People are starting to go?? But we don't start for another 35 minutes! Oh well, here we go! I get my jams playing and into my little world I go. Everything's great! Although, I keep wondering why we started so early??? Then it hits me... the half marathon. I've lined up with the half marathoners. Oh shit. No. Maybe not. Just keep running. Pump up the jams. It's cool. Then, around the 3 mile marker, there it is. The turn around point for the 10K. But no on is turning around. Shit. They ARE half marathoners. This is no 10K. This is 13.1 friggin' miles!! What to do?! What to do?! Do I turn around and look like a total space cadet??! No. I feel good. It's not so bad. Weather's great. I can do this. It'll be fine. Past the turnaround point I go.
So, all's well. I'm feeling good. I'm actually kinda stoked that I just decided to go with it. The tee shirt I was wearing reads, Trust The Universe and that's exactly what I did. And everything was great. Until around mile 8... that's when I started to think that maybe this wasn't a good idea. I mean, the farthest I've ever ran is 5 miles. But by this point, I'm well past the turnaround...there's no way back but to finish. So I power on. Mile 9. Mile 10. Mile. 11. I'm desperately counting them down. Mile 12 is killing me. My feet are killing me. My legs feel like they weigh 5,000 lbs. each! I walk a bit. I run again. The final mile marker... I've finished mile 12. I'm on the last mile. Mile 13. I run. I run fast. I am ready to cross that finish line. And cross that line I did. 2 hours and 17 minutes later, it's over. I'm so full of emotion I can hardly stand it. I cry. I shake. I can't even open a bottle of water! (Thank you kind young man at the race for opening my water.) But I did it. 13.1 miles. My first half marathon. I'm proud. I'm sore. My knees are still angry. But I did it.
This half marathon is only the start of what's to come. And I don't mean in regards to running... I know there are many more miles on my sneakers. But rather what's to come in the realm of possibility. What else will 2016 hold?? What other amazing things will happen?? Will I truly learn to Trust The Universe? Will I truly learn to trust myself??
So I kept running. Signing up for a run here & there. Not doing a lot of in-between runs but every now and again would hit it on my own. Fast forward to the New Year. Goodbye alcohol, Hello Sobriety! I'm committed to not drinking. I'm dedicated to my yoga practice and starting to enjoy running more and more. So I sign up for a frigid New Years Day 5K followed by The Polar Dash 10K this past weekend. I hadn't prepared much for the 10K, but it's only 6.2 miles so I thought "eh. I got this." I ran four miles a few nights earlier and was feeling really good. I'm ready for Saturday!
Saturday morning I get up early, walk the pooch, grab a coffee and head to the race. I'm all decked out in my warm, winter running gear (even though it was in the upper 30's so it was actually quite nice). When I get to the starting line, people are already lining up. So I stretch, take a few picts, find my cute little penguin pacers and start mentally preparing for my little run. Stretch again. Check the watch. Plenty of time before the race... wait. What?? People are running?? People are starting to go?? But we don't start for another 35 minutes! Oh well, here we go! I get my jams playing and into my little world I go. Everything's great! Although, I keep wondering why we started so early??? Then it hits me... the half marathon. I've lined up with the half marathoners. Oh shit. No. Maybe not. Just keep running. Pump up the jams. It's cool. Then, around the 3 mile marker, there it is. The turn around point for the 10K. But no on is turning around. Shit. They ARE half marathoners. This is no 10K. This is 13.1 friggin' miles!! What to do?! What to do?! Do I turn around and look like a total space cadet??! No. I feel good. It's not so bad. Weather's great. I can do this. It'll be fine. Past the turnaround point I go.
So, all's well. I'm feeling good. I'm actually kinda stoked that I just decided to go with it. The tee shirt I was wearing reads, Trust The Universe and that's exactly what I did. And everything was great. Until around mile 8... that's when I started to think that maybe this wasn't a good idea. I mean, the farthest I've ever ran is 5 miles. But by this point, I'm well past the turnaround...there's no way back but to finish. So I power on. Mile 9. Mile 10. Mile. 11. I'm desperately counting them down. Mile 12 is killing me. My feet are killing me. My legs feel like they weigh 5,000 lbs. each! I walk a bit. I run again. The final mile marker... I've finished mile 12. I'm on the last mile. Mile 13. I run. I run fast. I am ready to cross that finish line. And cross that line I did. 2 hours and 17 minutes later, it's over. I'm so full of emotion I can hardly stand it. I cry. I shake. I can't even open a bottle of water! (Thank you kind young man at the race for opening my water.) But I did it. 13.1 miles. My first half marathon. I'm proud. I'm sore. My knees are still angry. But I did it.
This half marathon is only the start of what's to come. And I don't mean in regards to running... I know there are many more miles on my sneakers. But rather what's to come in the realm of possibility. What else will 2016 hold?? What other amazing things will happen?? Will I truly learn to Trust The Universe? Will I truly learn to trust myself??
