Confessions of a Wannabe Runner

I have been a wannbe runner since middle school. Sadly, my first experience with competitive running was coming in dead last at my 8th grade middle school track meet. That kind of dampered my spirit and I didn't really try again until high school. Throughout high school I attempted to run track (then quit) then joined the team again until I dropped a 100lb weight on my foot my junior year and that put the kabosh on running for a while. The thing is, while I liked the idea of running, I really didn't enjoy actually running. What's to love? It's hard, you're sweaty, and endurance does not come easily to me, so building miles was REALLY hard. After I got married, I pretty much stopped running altogether. 

Then when we bought our first house, I met my good friend R. who wanted to get back into running and asked if I would run with her early in the morning before her husband left for work. I agreed and felt really proud of myself when I was able to run 2 miles without feeling like I was going to pass out. In 2007, Blake's family  decided to run a half marathon in honor of Blake's brother who had recently passed away. Motivated and not wanting to embarrass myself too badly on the course, I set out to run more than 2 miles. I'm not going to lie: IT WAS HARD! I wanted to give up so many times, but knowing that I had committed to this race was a great motivator. When I crossed the finish line at the end of 13.1 miles I can honestly say I had NEVER been more proud of myself than I was at that moment. I have always been a nerd, so getting good grades and even graduating from college was just something I always knew I would do. But running 13 miles just for the heck of it?! I never dreamed I would do that. 

I pretty much stopped running that day in April of 2008. I knew I was pregnant with Brooke before the race, and used that as my excuse to just stop. After she was born, I didn't really get back into running. It was too hard to run with a baby, I HATED running with her in a jogging stroller, and Blake's weird work schedule made it difficult to find time to fit it in. 

Fast forward to Sept. 2011. I was pregnant with Porter and watched Blake and my mother-in-law finish the half marathon our town puts on. I felt those familiar feelings creep up inside me. I told myself, "I am going to do this next year" Little did I know how hard it would be to start training for a race again after taking the last 4 years off from running and also recovering from having a baby. YIKES! I was slow to start, slow to build my miles, and anytime Blake would say, "Don't go run tonight, just stay home with us." I would say OK! I had to run in the evenings so Blake could watch the kids. He was a champ at giving baths and putting them to bed. Several times Blake came to look for me in the car when it started to rain or when it got too dark outside and I was still running. He would drive patiently behind me with the hazards on so I could finish. There is NO WAY I could have trained for this race without Blake's support. On my last run before the race, I decided to run 2 miles. On the way home I ran past the cemetery where I had started my training in July. I had tears in my eyes as I decided to a couple laps around the cemetery. Just a few months ago, it was a struggle for me to run just 3 laps around. Now, I was running 10 miles and still feeling good. When I rounded the last corner of the cemetery, I saw a purple blob running towards me. It took me a minute to realize it was Brooke and Blake was pushing Porter in the stroller behind her. They came out to support me on my last run before the big day and it meant the world to me.

 

Finally, after all that preparing, it was race day!Blake, the kids, my mom and in-laws were so great to stop at various points along the race course to cheer me on.

If you notice in most of the pictures of me running, there is a guy in a yellow shirt and a girl in purple. They were right on my heels almost the whole way. My goal was to never let them pass me and they didn't!

Still smiling at mile 11...

I finished 13.1 miles in 2 hours and 27 minutes (I am not sure about my official time and like to think that maybe it was really 26 minutes)

 

My mom said when I would run by, Porter would get this look on his face like, "What?! You're not going to stop and hold me?" He was pretty happy to see me.

And this is the morning after result: a bruised and very sore big toe. I really hope the nail doesn't fall off.

While I think I am done with my 10 milers for now, I still hope to keep running and maybe even try to beat my time at next year's race :)