My first half marathon

I'm not a real runner. That's what I tell myself anyway. I don't wake up at 5AM to run. I don't follow a consistent training plan. I don't do "speed work" or "tempo runs." I just run. 

Maybe one day I'll take this sport seriously though and run sub 8 marathons and earn that runner's body...#goals.

But that's not what this post is about. This post is about sharing my first half marathon experience. And for all those wannabe runners out there thinking about signing up for their first half marathon...YOU CAN DO IT TOO!

Prior to the race I spent hours reading other runner’s posts on the interwebz all about prepping for a half marathon. I found this training guide on Pinterest that had me running 4 times a week starting out at 2 easy miles and gradually increasing from there. Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy as my kid would say (how do these phrases get passed on for so many generations though?!). I followed the plan for like 3 weeks then kind of did my own thing - running however far I felt like it except on Saturdays where I was strict about increasing my mileage by 1 every week. Even with all the research though, I did all the things you’re not supposed to do prior to my race.

For 1, I made a new recipe the night before and it didn’t sit well with my stomach. Two, I planned to use new sneakers on race day but I stepped in Molly’s 💩 so I took it as a sign to wear my old beat up ones that had well over 500 miles on them and were busting out the seams. Then, the morning of the race I was a ball of nerves so all I could stomach was a banana and half a granola bar for breakfast. Definitely not enough calories to sustain a 2+ hour rigorous workout.

Miles 1-4 were a breeze.  The weather was perfect at a cool 50 degrees. So I was confused to see two blondes running in line with me wearing sweatshirts, puffed vests and hats 🤔. I hear my Nike app report back in my ear, “4 miles completed, 9.1 miles to go, average pace 9 minutes 52 seconds.” I’m feeling good about that! The course starts getting a little tricky but then the ocean views start approaching 😍. What is it about seeing open water that brings you so much zen? I snap some photos because I am who I am and of course I drop my phone. Didn’t smash  though 🙏🏼 but putting it back into my arm band proved challenging and “smile!” because of course the professional photographer happened to be taking pics right at that exact moment. Now my arm band is cutting off my circulation right where my elbow is and I can’t get it up to the top of my arm but DAMNIT I need to finish strong! 

Some real runner lapping me on the other side of the road

I'm pretty sure that whole fiasco messed up my head game because Nike starts barking at me that I’m running a 10:15 pace 😫. And then the rolling hills start. They weren’t joking about these damn hills. Ocean views helped but seriously I should’ve just walked them. Every person I was running along with stopped to walk them and then speed past me once they were over. But I had some masochist desire to run the whole race without walking. Live and learn. By mile 10 I was DONE. Nike tells me I’m almost to mile 11 but the course marker differs and that really f’s up your mind, ya know? I was so hungry, so thirsty, so tired. I pass by a hydration station and pray to God they have Gatorade - I NEED the sugar. No such luck. Gotta muscle through these last 2 (3?) miles without it. My hips are hurting at this point but I’M RUNNING A MOTHER F’ING MARATHON! I keep reminding myself how ALIVE I am in this exact moment. I start to get that feeling near the end when you only have one mile left and your runner's high starts to creep in and flood your body with happiness, endorphins, and complete euphoria. That feeling is why I run. That feeling is worth all the pain, sweat and tears. 

I finally am about to cross the finish line and I look up to see my mom and Matt shouting and applauding and I think to myself, "I made it 😀". Even though it wasn’t my goal time of sub 10 pace I am still extremely proud of my achievement. The training itself was hard AF and it took a ton of determination, drive and consistency to complete it. The thing that bothered me the most was having had a better pace in some of my long training runs. But I’ve come to realize that not every run can be “the best run” and you need the "just okay" runs to help you appreciate the amazing runs. It's kind of a metaphor for life actually.

The moment my feet stop moving the sugar crash hits me like a ton of bricks. I felt extremely nauseous and every restaurant we stopped at was jam packed with runners and their families. I ended up giving my free beer ticket to another runner because I was too famished to wait any longer. An HOUR or what seemed like FOREVER later I devoured a steak and cheese and ginger-ale and was finally back to my normal self.

Got some free chips and salsa and then bounced because the service was too slow.

Will I run a half marathon again? Absolutely. My legs are feeling strong. I have muscles that I never had before and love having a challenging goal to work towards. Not to mention all the “me time” I experienced during those hours of training were seriously so therapeutic.

Now that I think about it, scratch that original sentence of this post. I am a real runner because I actually run. I lace up my shoes at all hours of the day and I get out there and do the damn thing every week. I'm not necessarily fast but I'm my own version of fast. I set PR's and then I beat them and set new ones. I test my lungs, my heart, my legs and my head to their limits. And when I think I can't possibly do another step, I take 10 more. I am a real runner and my 20 year old self would be pretty damn proud of who I am today at 30.

  

Now I just need to add "Fastest Marathon" to the list of achievements 😉 maybe someday...