When a colleague at work sent me this email:
“Don’t say no right away, but I really want to start running
again. Would you be interested in training for the Indy mini with me?”
I immediately said yes, and then immediately thought, “Can I
really do it this time?” You see, I have signed up for several half marathons
only to downgrade to the 5K the day before because I had failed to train
properly (aka had given up on my training) and could not have possibly run that
distance without hurting myself or with any sense of pride.
Within a day of that email, she had a spreadsheet of our
training. (Eunice has run half and full marathons before, but had not run in
about four years.) I trusted her knowledge and thought this was the best shot I
have had in about five years of actually getting this done. We started training in November for the mini
in May. That is a long time to train,
and to think.
We started training that far in advance because a mile was a
challenge at that point, and we wanted plenty of time to build up to long runs
and to have some grace time (getting sick, taking care of kids, vacations,
etc.) Meeting at 6:30 a.m. on a street corner, in the cold, to run just a mile
seemed pretty ridiculous (it took more time to get ready than to run) but we
stuck to our plan.
Over the many weeks and months to come, we had good runs and
not so good runs, and we got to know each other really well. If you have ever
trained with someone for a long period of time, you know that you develop a
special bond. You can start reading the other person, and knowing when they
need a little pep talk. Eunice knew
exactly when I was struggling and wanted to stop and she would say just the
right thing to make me keep going…” I can see houses that means we are almost
to the street. ”Or “Only 30 seconds until we break, you got this.” And I in turn would offer her comic relief,
often in the form of inappropriate topics we could never discuss at work or
with other people around. She knew I might drop a couple of f-bombs on our long
runs, and I usually got really cranky on the home stretch, but if you have the
right training partner it all just clicks.
The week before the race my excitement and nervousness kept
building. Am I really going to do this? I had trained for six months, I could
not possibly train more. This will be my first bib with my name on it! What
will it feel like when I cross the finish line? Am I going to feel like
quitting at mile 5?
Eunice and I go up to Indy the night before, we’ve booked a
nice hotel and reservations at a great Italian restaurant to carb up before the
race. After picking up our race packets,
we settle in our room, read a little and turn in. I start running in my
dreams. I wake up sporadically all
through the night until the alarm goes off.
I try to act relaxed but my heart is pounding and I start to mentally go
through the race.
As we leave the hotel, the weather could not be better.
Despite the original forecast of rain, it is now overcast and cool, a little
humid. I do not run well in heat, so the
absent sun is a blessing. We make our way to our corral…the amount of people is
mind boggling but adds to the excitement. Once we are in our corral we take
some pictures and I just try to absorb it all in. I have never been big on
crowds, and with 35,000 people racing this is not where I would normally choose
to be, but you can feel the collectiveness of all the people getting ready to
run, and very surprisingly I feel like I am about to run with a few 1,000 close
running partners. The national anthem plays and I already get emotional
thinking about finishing, because at that moment, I know, without a doubt, I
will.
During the next 2 plus hours, I get to experience a half
marathon that goes beyond my daydreams. Not only are there countless
neighborhood supporters, volunteers who cheer you on as they give you water,
police and security personnel protecting you, but there are the thousands of
bodies doing just what you are doing- trying to get to that finish line, and
along the way soaking it all in.
Personal bests, first times, friends running with friends,
mother/daughter teams, husbands and wives, race walkers, grandmas and grandpas…the
list goes on.
Along the way, I have a few struggle points, but they are
brief and I am surprised at how good I actually feel. Then comes mile 12. I see
the sign and realize I am just 1.1 miles away from the finish line. Eunice
says, “We are almost there”, and I feel the emotional breakdown (along with my
legs) coming.
It is by far the longest feeling mile of the entire
race. Less than a mile from the finish
line, just like during one of our long training runs, I start cussing. “Where
is the freaking finish line- I can’t see it!” And just like during one of our
long training runs, Eunice knows exactly what to say- “It’s there, just past
this bridge. We got this.” Calm and reassuring.
I take a deep breath, settle down, and then I see it. As we
get closer, I am looking for my husband and kids. I almost pass them before I look over and see
them cheering. We cross the finish line together. High fives, hugs, tears and
that awesome medal come all at once.
It is not until the next day that it all sinks in. I re-run
the race many times in my head- the people I saw along the course and the many
people I ran beside during those 13.1 miles. I am extremely grateful that I
finally realized this dream and forever thankful for all those who helped me
along the way. To those dream runners out there, who say “I can barely run
to my mailbox and back.” Well, that is all you have to do to get started, you
then just have to keep choosing a farther mailbox to run to! And, as for me, I am going to keep running.
It took me too long to get to this point and I don’t want to give all that training
up- and as my, oh so wise, training partner pointed out- “you’re half way to a marathon
now!”
