The magical power of 13.1

I had a fabulous weekend. Yup, a great wonderful awesome weekend.  And yes, it might have had something to do with running my half marathon on Saturday and feeling really good and confident about it.  I think secretly or perhaps not too secretly I was worried about my ability to perform 13.1 miles.  I think when you have gone so long without doing it you get the natural doubt.  November was the last time I ran that distance.  It’s no secret I burnt out on running and then of course had a period of time where I wasn’t sure I EVER wanted to run 13.1 again.  That it was just too damned taxing on me.  Thankfully this period passed.  Thankfully I worked thru it. Thankfully my body rebounded.

The longest run I have done since November was 7.5 miles.  I did this twice recently. I did that 7 miler two weekends ago. Then I ran 6 miles a couple times here and there.  This is the farthest distance I’ve ran since November. This is a long time to go without running a long distance so I had some natural reservations about my abilities.  I was trying to not put too much pressure on myself.  I knew I could handle 7-8 miles. I thought if I really got tired at this point there’d be no shame in walk/running parts of it.  I was going to accept anything in this realm as a win. 

It’s funny how when you know you are going to run a longer distance that you naturally start to pace yourself a little more.  I can pretty much run solid 10 minute miles but after about 6-8 miles I know that I get tired at this speed.  So when I started my run on Saturday I looked down to see I was at quite a comfortable pace at 10:30 minute miles.  I decided since I knew I had to string together a lot of these that this was an acceptable speed.  It’s not crazy fast, it’s not walking, but it’s just good enough for me.  The entire goal for me was simply to run as long and as much as I could and finish the thing.  I was terrified I was going to be in pain or I couldn’t handle the distance.  Fear is real, despite having completed 29 half marathons prior to this one. Yup, this was my 30^th half marathon.  Doesn’t make my brain any more convinced that I can do it after taking a break.

The race started and I headed out.  I just kept telling myself that all I had to do was find a comfortable rhythm and just run and enjoy the experience. Give myself over to the beauty and happiness of the run. I knew I was settling in for 2 and roughly half hours of running so no need to rush anything.  I decided to take a more systematic, mathematical approach.  13 miles. Just tick them off mile by mile.  My Garmin beeped at me at mile 1 and I was like, awesome, 1 mile down.  12 to go. And it felt good, easy. I am going to crush this! I’d say big deal because it was only mile 1. But typically speaking mile 1 is fairly hell. So is mile 2.  They are hard to find your rhythm. But honestly I felt pretty great from the get-go. 

I decided my ease was partially due to my desire to perform and finally kick the self-doubt to the curb. And also because I honestly got a great night’s sleep on Friday night. We had to wake up early for the run, like we were up at 5:15 AM.  This is early for me.  Really early.  Some people are morning people, I am not.  But to compensate we were in bed at like 9:30 on Friday. I think I fell asleep at like 10 PM, which means I got a very solid 7-8 hours of sleep and I honestly slept pretty much the entire night thru which in the end helped me tremendously.

This race was all about proving to myself that I can still do this.  It was about tapping into this part of me. The distance runner that I’ve been slightly afraid wasn’t still in me.  I knew the only way to shut up the doubt was to just go out and do it.  So I ran.  And I kept running at my pretty comfortable 10:30 pace.  And the miles ticked away. And I felt happy.  And I felt in my zone. And then I started to feel high. 

I have a habit of watching people’s asses while I run.  I’m sorry, perhaps that is wrong. But it’s kind of what you see when you look up in a race and you see lots and lots of women’s butts.  And I acknowledge that no two butts are the same.  There are a lot of butt shapes and sizes and such in this world.  Runners are a different bread. They are not typically your gym rat.  And mostly I noticed that most of these women’s butts were very flat.  And I had a mental note of oh wow, I know I have a nice looking ass.  I work hard for my ass. I squat and lunge myself into a nice ass. And I felt proud.  Not that I was trying to diss on anyone else. I wasn’t.  I just felt confident and happy in my own ass.  This you see if what running does for me.  It allows me hours to think about things and build my confidence with every step.  Not by tearing other people down, but by thinking about the good in my life.  The good about me. This is why running is critical to my well-being.

I maintained my 10:30 pace for quite a while and I was just running.  I really didn’t know what to expect when I started. I know the last part gets tough and I just told myself the goal was to run as long as I could.  When I hit 6 miles I was like okay, here we go. Meaning this is breaching into the next level and of course my milestone I always wait for 6.55 miles. Half way mark.  When I cross the halfway threshold everything is running back and that is a happy moment.  You have now gone farther than you have left to go.  Really awesome point.  So I kept running.  Keeping my solid pace. Thinking about the beautiful scenery I was running on.  It really is a gorgeous course, on a bike path following a river by the airport with planes overhead.  It was  gorgeous and I tried to look at it and take it in.

I looked down and noticed I was at 8 miles.  And I evaluated my current physical state. This is now farther than I had run since November. And I felt great. Like I felt awesome.  Perhaps allowing myself to slow down to that 10:30 pace from the get go was paying off.  I felt like I could keep going.  This was happiness to me.  So on I ran.  Mile 9 down. And then close to that 10 mile mark I did feel my stomach start to cramp a little and I felt like I had to perhaps go poo.  This is honestly very common in running and obviously the less glamorous side of running that no one tells you about.   My body handles running magnificently with the exception of digestive issues.

I am sure some of my digestive stuff comes from the reality that I’ve always had a week stomach and then now I have no gallbladder to digest stuff the way normal people do.  And then the whole running thing.  Anyway, I ran thru it. I was still running and at this point, past mile 10, I wasn’t going to stop.  I hadn’t stopped running once. I may be slowed down for a second to ingest a little tiny Dixie cup of water on 2 occasions, that’s it.  For the most part I am a limited water runner.  My body handles massive amounts of exercise without water pretty well honestly.  I had not stopped running and I wasn’t about to now.  At this point, post 10 mile mark and still running I made the mental decision, and really, it’s always a mental decision, that I was going to run this entire half marathon.  That I could slow myself down if I needed to, but I couldn’t walk.  Once you walk at this point it’s kind of like the kiss of death.  Once I walk and my muscles tighten up it’s hard to start running again.

At some point I think I passed gas and my body felt better so I ran on. I am not going to lie it started to get tough.  I felt like I was barely moving, and I was at a 11 minute mile pace at this point but that’s still running.  And I justified that slowing down to a 11 mile pace for the last couple miles was okay.  And I ran on.  I had a few moments where I had to talk my brain out of stopping. Willed it to just keep running but for the most part, I still felt pretty good.  This was the most interesting part to me.  Nothing hurt. Nothing ached. Nothing felt amiss.  I felt pretty damned good overall.  So I kept running.

And eventually I saw the finish arch ahead of me.  And despite perhaps wanting to move my body faster, I couldn’t make it go any faster.  I kept going, but not faster than my present speed.   But I was still running. 13.1 miles of solid running as I crossed the finish line.  And all be damned I felt proud, happy, accomplished and relieved.  Mostly relieved that I clearly could still run 13.1 miles and feel damned amazing.  And relieved because I have to tell you, I think I could have went longer. I was not entirely spent.  Some half’s I felt dead. Some half’s I walked points of the last 3 miles.  Not this one, this one I felt amazing and like I had some more left in me which is great news considering I signed up for a marathon and all.

My official time was 2:20:19. So just a few seconds shy of 2:20. Close enough. Not my PR, but certainly within my wheel house for a half.  A decent time for me and I’ll take it. Considering I did pretty much not a lot of dedicated training.  Considering I basically just showed up and decided today I was running this half marathon.  When I looked up last years’ time for this race I was shocked to learn that I actually ran it 1 minute 5 second faster this year.  Last year I was 2:21:24. So a whole minute 5 second faster.  That is kind of cool because I didn’t even have a clue what my previous years’ time was nor did I care.  I wasn’t trying to beat that at all. I just wanted to run the thing. Mainly to prove to myself that I still could.  Last year I had ran a bit more at this point than I have this year so it was nice to see an improvement on time. 

I think the consistency or the slowing down just a smidge actually helped me a lot. It allowed me to run every step which was pretty cool.  I was waiting for the sore or ache to kick in but it never did. I felt amazing after I was done.  I had that awesome runner’s high, magnified by the reality that I finished 13.1 miles of solid running and more importantly proved to myself that I could.  Very cool.

 

After the race I ate the little bit of “breakfast” they had there. Some eggs on a croissant and I had my mimosa.  It all seemed like a good idea when I was doing it but later not such a good idea.  The one thing I had forgotten about was my very typical post run nausea.  Yup, my stomach always feels unsettled for a little bit after I run.  This is very common for me but somehow I had forgotten.  When we were doing the hour drive home my stomach felt so sick. Like I knew I was going to throw up.  Like the breakfast and more importantly champagne in the mimosa was a terrible idea.  I was breathing heavy and Chris kept asking me if I needed to pull over.  I kept saying no. 

Eventually I said yes. About 30 minutes and I couldn’t take it anymore. We stopped at Fred Meyer in Wilsonville.  It’s like a Target or Wal-Mart but a local chain.  We went in and at that point I felt light headed and so like I needed to throw up.  I found the bathroom and did exactly that. Yup the first time I’ve ever thrown up post run in a store.  I felt bad for the people in the bathroom with me listening to me vomit but I really had no choice.  But after I threw up a lot, I felt so much better as I knew I would.  I finally felt okay and we grabbed a couple groceries before heading home. From that point on I felt good again.  Nothing physically ached on me nor was I sore at all.  And once I threw up, I felt a okay. 

We got home and decided to take the dogs for a walk.  They needed it and I felt fine, capable of a mile or so walk. So we walked. In fact, I felt like I could have run which again is a positive thing considering my future marathon.  So we walked and then went home and ate.  Nice and easy soup for my tummy.  And everything was good. 

I honestly was so shocked and pleased that I didn’t feel any sort of physical pain.  I was expecting the worst honestly. Relieved to know I was more capable and ready for it than I imagined.  Yesterday I woke up feeling great. I would have worked out had it not been Easter.  I mean, it ended up being quite the family day which was nice.

I had a nice Easter breakfast out with my family and then we went and visiting my dying grandpa at his nursing home where my niece and nephew did an Easter egg hunt.  It was nice to see my Grandpa get to watch the kids hunt for eggs. I think it made him happy. I was glad we were able to do that for him.  I was glad we were able to spend some time on Easter with him.  I will never regret the decision to spend Easter with my family (as opposed to bailing to go workout or something). 

So this is my family.  Chris had his motorcycle endorsement class he had to take yesterday so he missed it. Which was kind of sad and he wanted to be there but I also totally understood and wasn’t mad at all. After the Easter egg hunt we went to my mom’s house and just hung out with the kids and each other. After Chris’s class he came over and we spent some time together.  A very nice Easter honestly.  I ate shit stuff and my tummy kind of felt sick last night but that’s irrelevant because it was a good day and worth it. 

Overall just a really good weekend. One that restored my faith in myself and my abilities. Plus some really good time spent with my family. I’m a happy girl. And now I am actually looking forward to running a half marathon this weekend again. That’s a nice thing.  Yup this Sunday I have a half marathon in the morning and then my Garth Brooks concert in the evening.  This will be another busy weekend.  But for now let’s just focus on today.  

Tonight it’s back to the gym for Iron Power class and then kick class. Starting out my week positive and back on track.  I feel happy and healthy and alive.  The power of 13.1 is just magical!