We had been toying with the idea of doing a half marathon for a while, but it wasn't until February/March that we started to get serious about it. At the time, we didn't have very much money, so we decided to hold off, but start training. I ran some while we lived in California, but the humidity made it hard on my Colorado/Idaho bred lungs. Aka I couldn't breathe. We thought that signing up would give me us motivation to exercise.
These are my running shoes. I adore them.
Once we got back to Rexburg, we signed up. I ran a little bit. Then I didn't. Then I remembered I had to run 13.1 miles in a few weeks, so I ran again. And then stopped again. The week before, I got a copy of Runners magazine in the mail. It had an article about people having heart attacks while running marathons/half marathons. This freaked me out. I didn't want to overdo it right before the race, but I also was scared I would die(literally) since I hadn't really trained. I ran some during that week, and felt like I could at least finish, even if it took me six hours ;)
Friday night there was a potato bake for all of the runners(carbo load!). We went and ate, and then tried to get to bed early. We woke up Saturday morning at 5:45, had eggs, toast and bananas, and then went to the starting line.
Before the race started.
Here's how it went down after that:
Mile 1: Started running. Felt good. Back of pack. Didn't care. Listened to Rascal Flatts. Almost cried.
Mile 2: Ran with a nice girl named Rose. She was from Oregon. Went ahead of her after a bit. Drank Powerade.
Mile 3: Kept running. Smelled cow poop. Saw baby lambs.
Mile 4: Still ran.
Mile 5: Mostly ran. At this point, my poor knees started hurting, so I was running slower. After a while, I realized the lady behind me, who was walking, was walking as fast as I was running. That put a damper on my spirits, so I tried to pick it up a bit.
Mile 6: (Miles 5-8.5 were at a gradual uphill into the wind. not good for out of shape people) The girl behind me was still walking almost as fast as I was running, so I decided to give my knees a break and walk for a bit. This "bit" ended up being on and off until mile 8.
Mile 8: Mostly ran. Still slow, still almost walking pace, but burning more calories than the lady walking :)
Mile 9: Arches now hurt, knees worse, but I kept going.
Mile 10: Picked up the pace as much as I could.Wanting to quit, but it was only a 5K left. I can do that, right?
Mile 11: Wrong. Just kidding. I kept running. Ready to be done.
Mile 12: Still running. See my friend from work just after mile 12 and tell her "My arches are trying to commit suicide!"
Mile 13: Turn the corner that heads towards the finish line. Almost cry again.
Mile 13.1: Britty, Blake, Zoe, Hannah, Brenton and Woody all cheer for me as I cross the finish line. A lady hands me a bottle of water and says "How do you feel?" I say "Like I want to cry!" She says "Are you hurt?" Then I walked straight to Woody and burst into tears. It felt great. I was so relieved to be done. Also, extra high levels of estrogen don't mix well with running, thus the emotions. Cutie Blake ran over and gave me a high five.
I wish that I could have ran the whole way, but that's okay. Next time. I'm impressed I could even do 11,0.3 because the most I've ran since the last half I did(2 years ago) is six miles.
After finishing.
Blake is so cute.
Me finishing. No tears yet here.
After finishing, we went and ate delicious well-earned food. Mmm.Then we took three hour naps, I bought Icy Hot, and spent the rest of the night using that, re-heating my heating pad, and struggling to stand up and sit down. My knees were so shot, I felt like I was 80 years old. Luckily, they were fine the next day.
The interesting thing about this whole situation is that my plan didn't work. We signed up to help us lose weight and get in shape, which didn't happen. BUT, since the race(4 days ago) I have been more motivated to exercise than I have for months. And I have actually acted on that motivation. So something good came out of it. I also want to start (actually) training for another one.
And if you're wondering about Woody, he finished about an hour before me. I was so proud. Love that boy!