I am, literally, a few hours away from entering 2015. It is often a tradition of mine to lay out my mileage goal for the upcoming year. I did this the past couple of years, surpassing my goal the first year…and falling short in 2014. I had hoped to run 2014 miles in 2014. Then, I was injured for about 3 months, and running wasn’t even an option. So, with my final run of the year logged this morning in the bitter cold (my water bottles froze)…my total mileage this year came out to be 1543.86…leaving me exactly 470.14 miles shy of my goal.
I hate it when I don’t meat goals. It’s aggravating and my perfectionist Virgo self doesn’t handle that well. Not one bit. This goal was definitely obtainable…until my foot was injured. So, this year…I’m doing something a little different.
No mileage goals. I can’t handle another year of disappointment should I, once again, fail to meet them. Part of having goals is obtaining them. In 2014…I just couldn’t hit the mark. It was impossible when I was out for as long as I was.
Get used to disappointment, right?
The thing is…I’m not built that way. This girl is a go-getter. This girl is a fighter. This girl likes results. This girl…is literally falling apart these days. Not physically. But mentally.
You know that book PostSecret?
Well…I have my very own RunSecrets to share…
RunSecret #1
RunSecret #2
RunSecret #3
RunSecret #4
RunSecret#5
RunSecret #6
So…there it is. A look into what has been rolling around in my brain as of late. I’ve slowed down. And, I won’t lie…this bothers me. It bothers me a lot. I feel like I lost quite a bit of fitness and endurance when I had to take a hiatus from running. So…this coming year, I don’t want to set myself up for failure and disappointment. So, I have a few simple goals in mind:
Remain injury free
Run the hell out of the Boston Marathon
Try out a new distance
Travel far and run there
Eat better
Train harder, but smarter
Run with different people at different paces – challenge myself!
Remember that can’t run like anyone else but me…so stop comparing my speeds against my peers
Run a race on my birthday with some friends to celebrate going up an age division
Have more confidence
Overall, 2014 wasn’t a bad year for me. But it sort of just brought about new challenges and some very unexpected rough spots with my running. But, there were high points too. And I came out of 2014 with 6 marathons under my belt, bringing me to 8 full marathons total. I became a Marathon Maniac. I learned how to push myself to my limits in the Dopey Challenge at Disney World. I deepened some friendships (you couldn’t even begin to know how much a text or phone call from my friend Kelsey would lift my spirits during my injury) both on the roads and off. I discovered that marathon running slows you down. I spent a few great races with some of my best friends cheering me on from the sidelines. My grandpa finally got to come to a race and see me run. I only wish I had been in better shape at that point (foot injury was not completely healed). I ran a mile with my 8 year old nephew. He’s amazing. I ran a half marathon on a broken toe.
The difficult part leading into 2015 is going to be overcoming my fears and learning how to just focus on me and not compare myself to others. I can only run as well as I can run. I can’t run like anyone else. What I have lost in speed and fitness…I will gain back. It might be a slow process…but I’ll get there. If there is anything I learned about myself in 2014 it’s that I’m tough…and I am determined. I’ve just fallen a bit off track. But with a little focus and a lot of self-control…I’ll get back to where I’m comfortable. I might even overcome some of my fears.
For all of you who have stuck with me…thank you. Here’s to a wonderful 2015.
Me after finishing the Fast Freddie Five Mile Foot Feast – New Albany, Indiana
Race: Fast Freddie Five Mile Foot Feast
Place: New Albany, Indiana
Date: November 27, 2014
Time:38:15
One does not simply Turkey Trot in New Albany, Indiana. Oh no. Not here. In New Albany…we have what is known as a “Foot Feast.” What, pray tell, is the difference? Nothing. But, why trot for turkey or dash for drumsticks when you can simply feast on everything!
I love the Fast Freddie Five Mile Foot Feast. Regardless of the weather being atrociously cold most Thanksgiving mornings around here, when all is said and done…I adore this race. It is, literally, right outside my door. Held at the 4-H Fairgrounds right across the street from my apartment complex. It doesn’t get any more convenient than that. It remains the least stressful race that I run…every year.
So, leave it to me and my Type A, Virgo mind to stress me out.
First of all, the night before Thanksgiving is always…I repeat…always super busy for me. This year, I was preparing desserts to take to dinner. But first, I needed to pick up my packet at the 4-H Fairgrounds (which I did on my lunch break), then, after work, traverse traffic over to Frankfort Avenue in Louisville, Kentucky to pick up my special holiday order from Annie May’s Sweet Café. Gluten-free stuffing and gluten-free croissant rolls awaited. There was no holding me back. And…it was the eve of a race. And while Cathy and I almost went to Jason’s Deli for soup that evening, we instead ended up across the parking lot at Blaze Pizza. Keeping with tradition…gluten-free pizza the night before a race. I think, in the end, it made me feel a little more at ease noshing on a thin-crust gluten-free and vegan pizza.
Afterwards, we were winging back to the apartment so that I could start baking my gluten-free and vegan marbled pumpkin cheesecake and start putting together pink salad…for desserts the following day. It took up the rest of the night and I found myself shifting things in the fridge much later than I would have liked, but getting both the cheesecake and the pink salad inside. Tight fit…but they were in and chilling. That was the important thing.
Tea…then sleep.
I slept really well, waking up around 6 a.m. with the coffee brewing. As I didn’t really need to be in any big rush I just sort of ducked into my closet and started pulling out what I was going to wear. Capri pants, my thermal top with the turtle neck, and compression sleeves. Done. I dressed. I glanced out the window to see if I could see the finish line set-up going on. What greeted me next, however, was SNOW. S-N-O-W.
“Awww…hell!” I said.
I think I kept hoping that it was an illusion or a dream…but each time I checked…the white stuff was still there. I ate breakfast when my roomie staggered out…which consisted of cereal. Then, after puttering around for a little while (which I should have been stretching), my roomie went to go and prepare herself for spectating. She came back out and walked over to the front door, pulling it open.
In rushed this cold, wintery gust of air that literally blew right through me. I sat up from the rug I was just lounging on. “Oh. My. God. Do I need another layer?”
She shrugged and went back into her room. And I was left to ponder the age-old…how to dress for this race problem.
Joy.
After a lot of back and forth, while Cathy suited up in 5 layers to stay warm…I decided to suck it up (gluten-free) cupcake and just wear the top I had on. I could keep my fleece on until go time. And with Cathy bundled up and me really not wanting to step outside…the time had come to make our way down to the 4-H Fairgrounds. Just a short walk across the parking lot of our apartment building. But in the cold air…not as much fun.
Our downstairs neighbor was unloading stuff from her car and she saw us and asked if I was running this morning. I told her I was doing the 5 miler right across the street. She wished me luck. We continued down toward the road and a window of one of the vehicles parked in the drive of the apartment complex rolled down the window. It was Art from my spin class. He and his family were doing the run too. We talked briefly and he introduced me to his wife who was really curious about my marathon running. And then…he went to stay warm for a few more minutes and I went over to the base camp…the fairgrounds.
Runners were huddled together trying to keep warm. I noted who the elite runners were. This is evident by their lack of clothing on seriously cold days…the singlets with the short-shorts. And walking around like it’s really 90 degrees out and we’re just all big babies. These, friends, are people who win races. I am NOT one of these people! Remember, I debated an extra layer. So, I stretched, because I forgot to do it in the warmth of my apartment, and not soon after, Freddie was having everyone fill up the street because this race starts at 9 a.m. SHARP. I joined the masses and moved up toward the front of the line, without being in front. There was still some traffic trying to come through, so we made room. Some brave souls ran sprints through the cars. I just stayed off to the side and tried to stay warm. I had shed my fleece jacket at this point. And with the wind, it was biting cold that morning.
Finally, the cars cleared and we spread out. I moved more toward the other side of the road. Fred let us know that he would give us the on your marks command and a whistle. This year…he blew the whistle.
We were off.
I was not running this year for time. I couldn’t. Not with the foot problem, the broken toe, and the lack of running (except for crazy distance races) since July. Honestly…I took so much time off this year, I felt like a freakin’ tortoise as we started up the first hill to go over the overpass. I usually incorporate this route in some way, shape, or form, in my training in the summer. But as I wasn’t allowed to run all freakin’ summer…the route felt brand new to me. You’d think my legs would remember it. Well…maybe it was the icy cold morning, but…they felt like they had never run it before.
As we crossed over the interstate, there was a patch of ice on the overpass. Everyone near me started yelling “ICE!,” so I did the logical thing and quickly moved away. I sprained my ankle last year and required physical therapy after slipping on ice. I’m done with injuries, okay? Freakin’ done. I’m still working on the recovery. So…yeah…I moved. Down the hill and to the light where we make our first turn. One mile…done.
The rolling ups and downs of Mount Tabor road are what we are greeted with. It feels good, now that my legs have warmed up that first mile. I wish I could say the same for me. I could no longer feel my face. I wasn’t even sure it was still attached. Pressing on, I took the hills as I usually do…with power. I figure, I want to earn the downhill recovery, I’m going to best the hills. And these weren’t bad. Nope. Mile 2…done after turning onto Grant Line Road.
Grant Line Road takes us to Sam Peden Community Park. We duck inside near the fire department. This is where the water stop is located. I think most people decided it was too cold to deal with water as more people than usual just ran right past the group manning the table. We head up an incline and it levels off (no downhill) to take us around the park. At the path where the 2-mile walk cuts across…is Mile 3. Two more to go. And we now get to the most difficult part.
After Mile 3, you get this small, steady incline to take you to another leveled off spot. Here, you round the corner and go through the gate at the other end of the park. A lot of people who live in the apartments there came out to cheer. One guy shouted, “All the kings horses and all the kings men…” I don’t know what that means, but he was clapping and shouting, and it was needed. Exit park on a nice downhill. Then start your first of three hills. Schell Lane is a beast. A freakin’ BEAST!
I actually have always embraced the challenge of Schell Lane. I don’t know why. I hate running hills…and that’s all this road is. Three uphills and two downhills with a nice downhill waiting as you turn the corner and hit Daisy Lane. I ran Schell Lane like I always do – with intention. And, I loved heading up that last hill and seeing these kids out in the yard screaming, “GO RUNNERS!” as we all worked our way up the steepest of the climbs, to earn our reward…a flat segment leading into the turn…then the nice downhill.
Running down Daisy Lane makes you feel so free and alive. It feels so easy because it is one hell of a downhill. It takes you right into that 4th mile. I actually peeked at the clock as I ran past the mile marker. I knew I was going to have a slower time this year. But, I figured that going into it. Time to just make that last mile count.
Down to the traffic light and make the turn onto Green Valley Road. You’ve come full circle almost. Only half a mile away is the finish line, back at the 4-H Fairgrounds. I run this stretch a lot. I know where the rolling hills are. And yet…at this point, my feet wanted to do little in regards to getting me to that finish line. It was the cold weather. My body hates cold weather. My muscles just don’t fire the same. But, I turned it on and gave it my best push and soon, I was rounding the corner to the drive of the 4-H Fairgrounds and pushing hard to the finish line, with Cathy screaming at me from the sidelines. There were very few spectators out this year. I think the cold weather kept them inside.
But…finish I did. I dropped the bottom tag of my bib into the raffle box and went to grab some water. Cathy met me on the other side of the main hall and we debated whether to stick around for awards or not. Traditionally, we do. And if you do place in your age division, Freddie says you have to be there to claim your award. That’s just how he does it. So…after debating on whether to go shower and get ready for the drive to Corydon for Thanksgiving or to stick around, I finally decided to stick around…at least for a little while.
This turned out to be…of little use this year. There was a timing mat issue…which they were working on resolving. So, they went ahead and gave out some of the raffle drawing awards. And then they did the top three male and female finishers. No new faces there. Not this year. The first male finisher, Ben Hubers, finished in 25:05. The first female, Sarah Peace, finished in 28:14. The times were slower this year and a lot of that was on account of the cold weather.
Me with Santa after the Fast Freddie Five Mile Foot Feast – New Albany, Indiana
Anyway…they finished up the raffle and then Fred announced that they were still sorting out age division awards, so they would have that posted on the Web site and if you won an age division award, you could pick up your award at Pacers & Racers on Grant Line Road for a week. After that…they were gone.
So…as it turns out, I ran this years Fast Freddie Festive Five Mile Foot Feast almost 2 minutes slower than last year, finishing with a time of 38:15. I was 152/928 finishers this year. I was the 26th female to cross the finish line. And lo and behold…I was 3rd in my age division. Go figure. So, the one year they aren’t able to do the awards at the race is the year I actually place. And I did it running slower. How does that even happen?! Needless to say, I went over to Pacers & Racers that Sunday to pick up my award. It was a mug. AWESOME!
Anyway, I am already looking forward to next year’s Fast Freddie Five Mile Foot Feast and can’t wait to see what I can accomplish. Maybe I can at least beat this year’s time. HA! Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving!!
This past year, I spent a good portion of the prime running months sidelined with a very unhappy foot. Throughout this time, I tried very hard to just be thankful that it wasn’t something worse. I wasn’t very successful most of the time. The runner brain kicked in and all I could focus on was the fact that I couldn’t run, that I couldn’t train, that I was going to lose fitness, etc.
But as the time went on, and the injury wasn’t getting any better, I found a shift in my attitude for the most part. I started to be thankful for the mornings the foot wasn’t too sore to get in a slow, easy run. I was thankful for the gym, for opening at 5 a.m. so I could at least go for a swim. I was thankful for the people in my life, who would call to check on me, who would find ways to make me laugh and to get my focus to change from what I couldn’t do…to what I still could do.
But there were other things to be thankful for this year. Here is a small list:
I am thankful for my family, who I don’t get to see often enough. I wish I could come visit every weekend, because living so far away makes me feel like I am missing so much. I have seven nieces and nephews…and every time I see them, they’ve grown up more and have changed so much. It’s so hard. But through the distance and over the years, my family’s love and support and constant phone calls and texting have seen me through both good and bad times. I am nothing without my family.
I am thankful for my secondary family…my roommate (Cathy), and her immediate family…Amanda, Judi, Janet, and Richie. For dinner’s out, movies in, and always being up for an adventure. Oh…and for letting me cook for you.
I am thankful for my job. It may not be what I want to be doing, but I am really good at it and I get a lot done. I know I can complain a lot about it, but it’s just because I’m a perfectionist and, as in life, the job isn’t always perfect.
I am thankful for my friends, those I can see on a regular basis, those I can see a few times a year, and those I rarely get to see…because without friendships…life is lonely. And whether we see each other always or never, the fact that you are always there and a part of my life means the world to me. Friendship is one of the single most important things in life. If you find yourself lacking friends, go and rekindle some you thought you lost…or go make some new ones.
I am thankful for the ability to cook. Because nothing makes me feel happier than being able to take a few fresh ingredients and turn it into something new and something, hopefully, delicious. I used to set things on fire when I tried to cook…but when I moved here, it became something I needed to learn. I caught on fast.
I am thankful for fresh foods, and good gluten-free products. Being a gluten-free vegetarian is hard. Add being an athlete to it, and it becomes even more of a challenge. That being said…changing my diet has been a challenge, both budget-wise, and health-wise. But it’s important and it had to be done. I’ve gotten some help this year when I signed up for Cuisine Cube…and thankfully, fresh fruits and veggies are always gluten-free…and are two of my favorite things in life.
I am thankful for each year I can travel up to Minnesota and see my family there. Moments with my grandpa are my most cherished.
I am thankful to be able to travel. Sometimes it’s not far. Sometimes it’s not even somewhere people would call fun or interesting…but nothing makes me happier than exploring somewhere new and stepping away from real life for a little while.
I am thankful to my friends who run…for inspiration, encouragement, and for just being awesome. You all know who you are.
Me, dressed as Venellope von Schweetz, at the staging area of the Disney Wine & Dine Half Marathon – Orlando, Florida
Race: Disney Wine & Dine Half Marathon
Place: Walt Disney World, Orlando, Florida
Date: November 8, 2014
Time:1:50:09
I’m starting to think I angered the running gods somewhere along the way this year.
Seriously.
Because before I go any further, let me start with these two words for you:
BROKEN TOE!
You read that right. My first night at Disney World this time around…and what do I do? I BREAK A FREAKIN’ TOE! And you know, broken toe stories never really are a good story…because they always just happen randomly and in such a stupid and simple manner. For me…climbing into the shower at my resort. No joke. Jammed it on the tub. Yeah…
So…running gods and goddesses…whatever it is…I apologize. Please, please show me some mercy from here on out…
*COUGH*
That being said…not even a week removed from the New York City Marathon and I find myself up in Columbus, Ohio. Yes…this journey starts in Columbus, because my roomie and I were taking our good friend, Jenn, with us to Walt Disney World this time around. And, believe it or not, it was cheaper to drive up to Columbus and fly out of there on Friday morning than it was to do it from Louisville. Worked out in the end. The three of us could now travel together. YAY!! But…this also meant a very early morning after a night spent on the road to get there. We didn’t get in too late, but we didn’t want to stay up too late either, as our ride would be coming in between 4:15 a.m. and 4:20 a.m. Friday morning. Our flight out was at 6:30 a.m. Early flight…nonstop…meant…in to Disney early. WOOT! Jenn’s dad came and got us, drove us to the Columbus Airport, and dropped us off. Cathy and I checked our bags…Jenn carried hers on…and we went through security. Our first stop…Starbucks. Caffeine was needed for sure at this hour. And I had a tall soy salted caramel mocha calling my name. With coffees in hand, we settled in at our gate and just started discussing the plans for that day.
And…it ran smoothly. We boarded the plane on time and were in the air without any sort of delay. This was a new thing for me. And, believe it or not, our flight team got us in to Orlando a full 20 minutes early. HELLO! This is my happy dance. Cathy went to get the rental car while Jenn and I waited for luggage. The bags came through really quickly, actually, so Jenn and I headed out the way we were directed for rental cars and ended up at the Enterprise kiosk outside. Cathy was inside. Figures. So, she had to come to us. The representative took us out to the midsize cars and pointed out the Prius, as we are accustomed to Toyota vehicles as both Jenn and I own Toyotas. We were sold. Hello amazing as mileage!! Car acquired, we were now setting out to make our required Publix stop, to pick up some fruit, snacks, and some water. Jenn and I also replenished our protein bar stores. I am glad we did this, because I ate my way through all of mine this trip. After that, we headed to the resort and got checked in at…where else?…Port Orleans Riverside.
Yes. Again. Why change up the resort when we love this one so much. I mean…it’s one of my favorite Disney Princess’ place…Tiana, of course! And I know the layout and the rooms (or so I thought, HA!). We got our room…which was…a maze to find. Opposite end of the elevator, all the way around by the pool…second floor. We just had to do some exploring to find it. But, heh, we managed. We settled into the room for a moment…Jenn cooling off by the air conditioner, while I got out my tiara (requirement at Disney…because they call me Princess if I wear it…and I LOVE being called Princess). I had to get my waiver in order to pick up my race packet at the expo. And we grabbed a snack prior to heading out for the day.
First up…the expo. And thankfully, the resorts on Disney property run shuttles to the event. The expo was held at the ESPN Wild World of Sports Complex. Just like it normally is. Well, it was for the Dopey Challenge anyway. Love this venue. It’s really easy to navigate now…but at first it was slightly confusing.
The most amazing thing happened with this race though. In New York City, I met running legend Kathrine Switzer. When she ran the Boston Marathon, she was the now famous Bib 261. Well, my bib number at the Disney Wine & Dine was…261. Having this race bib number has been a dream of mine…Disney Magic made it happen! I love surprises like that. As I was one of the lower numbers, I had virtually no line to stand in. This is usually the case with Disney races for me. I was going to be in Corral A, which anyone with the numbers between 21-500 will be in. They gave me my commemorative pin, which I ordered ahead of time, and then sent me across the way to the actual expo, where I would pick up my t-shirt.
I avoided the vendors upon entering and made my way over to the area in the back for my t-shirts. Not too many people were in line for a women’s small either, so I stepped up and handed my bib over to the lady at the counter. She looked at it as she tore the t-shirt tab off and said, “WOW! You’re the lowest number I’ve seen…how fast can you run a half marathon?” I told her my fastest time and she asked if I was going to try to beat it here. I told her, in my mind, I’d love to, but I had just run a marathon on Sunday, so it wasn’t likely. The body was still recovering. I said I intended to have some fun and just enjoy it. And take pictures with characters this time around. Next time… She laughed and handed me my shirt. Time to shop!
I really intended not to purchase anything. Just look. But…heh…that didn’t work out as planned. I didn’t get a BondiBand here either, for the record. My mojo is off. My usual customs aren’t happening. ACK! But I didn’t see a booth, honestly. Cathy found me the race specific equivalent though in the Official Merchandise area…so we went with that. It would do. One thing I did do, however, was visit the Garmin booth and ended up getting a watch I could wear so I didn’t have to wear my Garmin running watch if I needed to know what time it was. After all, I was at Disney World and I was NOT going to live on my cell phone. Nope! This was vacation! With that purchase…I said I wasn’t allowed to spend any more money…so I avoided the Newton booth and tried to ignore all the cute running clothes. I made it out of there with only that purchase and a wine glass (Disney Wine & Dine…get it!) from Official Merchandise. I did well!
We wrapped things up and took the shuttle back to our resort to drop off our bags. Then…with no pausing, we were back out and this time hopping the regular shuttle bus to take us to Animal Kingdom, our park of choice for our first day there. We had things planned…like Jenn and I were going to ride Expedition Everest, the roller coaster there in Animal Kingdom. We did. And it was epic fun. It was nice to have a ride buddy this time around, as Cathy refuses to do any of those rides…because she somehow became less fun at amusement parks between when we first went to Disney in February 2013…to today. BUT…before any attractions or rides…we needed more coffee…and a snack. So…I hit up the allergy friendly Gardens Kiosk in the park for some hummus and vegetables and Cathy and Jenn grabbed some fries at a restaurant there. We noshed and then…went to grab the infamous COFFEE!! You see, Animal Kingdom has this one place that serves up this fantastic iced coffee in either a French Vanilla or Mocha flavor. I have always done, and will always do, the French Vanilla. But it tastes like a light milkshake. Seriously. It is the best thing ever. My favorite coffee at any Disney park. And…I might be addicted to it. With coffee now acquired and caffeine hitting the system…we had the roller coaster to do and the Kilimanjaro Safari. LOVE dong the safari at Animal Kingdom because the guides are fun, the animals are RIGHT THERE…and it’s just a nice way to relax and see some wild animals. LOVED it. While there, we also did the “It’s Tough To Be A Bug” show and rode on Dinosaur. By the time we wrapped things up, we were running just a tiny bit late to the shuttle to get to the Animal Kingdom Lodge…home of our traditional first meal at Disney World feast…Sanaa.
Sanaa is African food that sort of borrows from the flavors of India. Can you see why I love eating here so much? After talking with the chef, I ended up getting the Vegetarian Sampler, which is Basmati Rice and the choice of two of five of their vegetarian entrees. I went with the Chickpea Wat and the Seasonal Greens and Tomatoes. It was…beyond fantastic as always. For the record, Cathy ordered the Lamb Shank and Jenn got the Slow Cooked Dinner Sampler, which was Basmati Rice with a choice of two of the five plate offerings. She went with Butter Chicken and Goan Seafood Curry. We ended up splitting the dessert…as usual…we ordered the Seasonal Kulfi, which was pumpkin this time. And it was delicious. The couple next to us made conversation with us the entire time, and he ended up getting the trio of desserts, which included the kulfi that we were raving about. He took a bite and his wife said, “That was your sex face.” Hilarity ensued. Anyway, with dinner wrapped up, we had a full day and we knew the race was the following night, so we headed back to the resort to take our turn through the shower and get some much needed sleep.
Broken toe…*sigh*
And this…is where it all went down. I was first up to shower, so I went into the bathroom and got the water going. And as I was climbing into the bathtub…BAM…jammed my foot on the edge of the tub. Hard. And bad. I doubled over for about a minute before toughing it up and finishing the shower. After I was dressed, I hobbled out and pointed to my foot. “I think I broke a toe!” Cathy and Jenn looked up at me with big eyes and Cathy said, “SERIOUSLY!?” It was confirmed the next morning…when I woke up to find it swollen and a pretty shade of black-ish purple.
*SIGH*
Being proactive, we decided to use the athletic tape that we brought with us (because my feet are delicate things and I apparently need to wrap the hell out of them these days) and Cathy taped my broken toe (the 4th one)…to the middle toe. And that was how I managed to get through a full day at Hollywood Studios. For real. Being that the race started at 10 p.m., today was going to be a bit strange for me…because…I had to eat backwards. I also was not going to be having gluten-free pizza prior to this race. Night races…they screw everything up. So, we were having a character breakfast at Cape May (Minnie Mouse, Goofy, and Donald, FTW!). And this was going to be our biggest meal of the day. Honestly. The chef came out to talk to me and she ended up making me GLUTEN FREE MICKEY WAFFLES!! These are a requirement when I go to Disney World and Disneyland. I have to have them at least once. I paired that up with scrambled eggs for protein and a big heaping bowl of fruit. Because…it was there and really delicious! And that was breakfast. Off to Hollywood Studios. Cathy had somehow managed to get the times wrong for the fast passes we had for both the Aerosmith Rock ‘N Roller Coaster and the Tower of Terror. But, we begged and pleaded and after being treated like children, Jenn and I were allowed on our thrill rides that Cathy refuses to even try. We also did Star Tours (always fun!) and Muppet Vision 3-D. LOVE THE MUPPETS. We had some time, so we headed over to The Magic of Disney Animation and sat in on one of the drawing classes, where we were taught how to draw Donald Duck this time. This made me happy…I hadn’t done a Donald Duck before. My lunch was my protein bar and a clementine, which I ate on the go. And after we wrapped up everything…we went back to the hotel, because I had a race to get dressed for…and to get to…broken toe or not.
I actually took the tape off my toes for the race, fearing blisters. We also had weather moving in (even though I was told on numerous occasions that Orlando didn’t have rain for months!). So…yeah…there was that. I was dressing up as Vanellope von Schweetz from Wreck it Ralph this time around. Why? Because Vanellope is awesome. HA! A co-worker of mine even sewed the top for me and it looked fantastic. I was pretty excited about the costume. Not so happy with my toe. And definitely not happy about the impending rain. But, you just suck it up cupcake and get it done. Right? Right! So, I got dressed, and went ahead and ate my cereal (treating my dinner as how I would eat on a race morning…because I was eating backwards all day!). Cathy put all the little candy bits in my hair and I packed a set of dry clothes (but not shoes) for after the race…just in case. The best part about Wine & Dine is the after party in Epcot. You get to try foods and drinks from different countries. And included in the race bag is a $10 gift card to put towards those purchases and samples. So, dinner for Cathy and Jenn was going to be tasting around the world. For me…probably a protein bar because there isn’t too much there for a gluten-free vegetarian. But…I figured I would take in the experience.
So, I grabbed the banana we purchased at the grocery store when we got there on Friday and we headed out to the shuttle to take us to the start of the race, which would be near the ESPN Wide World of Sports Complex. The staging area was mostly in the grass, and it started to sprinkle a bit. The first thing we did was head to information to figure out the best way for Cathy and Jenn to get from the start to the finish. They were told, especially since I was a Corral A runner, that they needed to leave and get a shuttle before I started the race. So…after dancing around and helping me put a garbage bag over my head to keep my body warm as the wind picked up and the weather started to roll in…they gave me hugs…I was told that the “power of Dean compels me” and not to “pants my poop.” TRADITION! And they were gone. So…I just sort of plopped myself down somewhere and tried to stay warm. I ate my banana. I watched people expend a lot of energy by jumping and dancing…and it was fun!! But soon…it was time to get in those corrals. And I made the short hike from the staging area to the corrals, moving all the way up to Corral A.
One thing I loved was seeing so many people in this corral in costume. Disney race or not, a lot of times the higher up corrals don’t get into the Disney spirit. I have always and will always costume for Disney races. They are Disney races. If you run Disney for time, you’re missing the point! I stayed in the black garbage bag until after the wheelchair racers were sent off. The elite runners and Corral A were then moved up to the start line. I shed it then…and that’s when it started to rain. Lightly at first. So, when they sent us off with the fireworks and all…it was like a spring shower. But soon after that first mile, where I met a fellow runner who had just done New York City in that horrible, awful, crazy wind…the rain started to pick up. And then…it was just…a downpour.
The first three miles of this race are done on the highway…and this race also embraces the most hills of any Disney race I have run yet at Disney World. But…after New York City…these didn’t seem too bad. Not really. After the 5K mark, we come into Animal Kingdom. Running through the parks is the best part because you get to have the park employees cheer you on. That and this is normally a key place to snap pictures with characters. The problem was…with the downpour…many of the characters weren’t out. BUMMER! But, you go on. We run around the Tree of Life just after Mile 4 and then duck outside of the park before hitting 5 Miles.
The rain was relentless and my shoes were full of water. The good thing was, my feet were so cold and numb that I couldn’t tell if my toe was hurting or not at this point. But, I knew it was hindering me. There just comes a point where you just can’t do anything about it…so you just stop worrying about it. The next few miles were back on the roads, part of the path we ran for the Disney World Marathon. I recognized it. I was about halfway through and running down the street parallel to those just getting started. On the opposite side of the highway…the later corrals were just getting underway. And we got a lot of cheers from them as we went on.
It’s around Mile 10 that we get filtered into Hollywood Studios. Great park to run through. It was decorated for Christmas and everything was lit up. This has great scenes to run past and the support there is nothing but phenomenal from the cast members. Honestly. Despite running in the shadow of the Tower of Terror and through the various lots that they feature, my absolute favorite part of Hollywood Studios involved disco balls and the Costuming Tunnel in the Backlot. Honestly…I loved looking through the windows, while disco balls are sending lights everywhere in this small tunnel, and seeing people pressing and prepping the costumes for the following day. It was spectacular. I wanted to stop and linger…because…well…it was dry in there…and…IT WAS FLIPPIN’ COOL! But, I was nearing the end of the race and the after party and two very soggy spectators awaited my arrival at that finish line.
Onward.
Out of Hollywood Studios and onto the slick and slippery boardwalk, which runs past the Disney Yacht Club and Disney Beach Club Resorts. Even with the hard rain and cool air, people staying there still came out to cheer. I love the vibe I get at every Disney race. But the electricity through these last two miles was fantastic. Honestly.
From the Boardwalk we took a turn through Epcot, past the giant ball, and out into the parking lot. I know this finish area well, trust me. Around the corner and BAM…there was the finish line. I pressed hard to that finish line, ignoring my foot and toe, just wanting to get over that mat. And I cleared it, soaking wet and dripping with rain and pure determination and stubbornness. Broken toe…check. Half marathon…check. BEAST MODE, BABY!
As I recieved my medal and my mylar blanket, I saw Cathy and Jenn waving to me from the bleachers. They were as wet as I was. They started down while I got the finisher’s photo, some water, and, of course, the goodie box that RunDisney hands you at the end of every race, filled with goodies like Skittles, Clif Bars, Craisins, Fruit Snacks, and Tortilla Chips with a Cheese spread. I wasn’t ready for food. What I was ready for was getting out of the chute and meeting up with my friends. I sipped on some water and went to where I was directed to exit.
There they were. Cathy came up to me and gave me a hug. Jenn came over to do the same and said, “You can tell I love you…” LOL!! I really do have amazing friends. And I give a lot of props and love to the spectators and volunteers who stood or sat out in that downpour for as long as they did.
But now…it was time to check out the after party, which meant an uncrowded spin around the World Showcase with some tasting portions of food at the different country booths and kiosks. But first…I was freezing…and I wanted hot tea. We got that immediately and set out to see what each country had to offer. If something sounded good…devour. If not…move on. I probably should have changed clothes, but at that point, it was still raining, so I didn’t see the point.
Cathy tried foods from 7 countries: Mexico, Singapore, China, Brazil, Belgium, France, Canada. Jenn tried food from China, Brazil, and France. Me…I had tea. And after stopping at France, I decided I REALLY needed to be in dry clothes. I was shaking more than walking. And since it was just an intermittent drizzle, I figured it was the best time to get out of my cold, wet costume and into my long pants and running jacket.
Me, in dry clothes, after walking the World Showcase and enjoying the after party at Epcot after the Disney Wine & Dine Half Marathon
BEST FEELING EVER!
I was dry and now…warm. I also ate one of my protein bars to help with recovery. And we finished up the World Showcase that night and called it a morning. Because by the time we got on the shuttle and returned to the hotel, it was 2:35 a.m. And we all still had to shower. I went first, making it quick. Then Jenn. Then Cathy. We didn’t have any reason to be up early the following morning, so we slept in until 9:30-ish. It was Magic Kingdom day that day…which meant Dole Whip for dessert that night. We ended up having Dole Whip for breakfast the following morning before hitting up Epcot on our last day there.
I even randomly was found by my friend Michele, who also did the half marathon. She found me in Morocco of all places. HA! And we ended up talking about a lot of things for awhile, before she and her group moved on to try more foods from the showcase, and we went to continue on around the other way, killing time before dinner that night.
So, my official results for the Disney Wine & Dine Half Marathon are that I finished with an official time of 1:50:09. ON A BROKEN TOE! IN THE POURING RAIN! I was 418/11,941 overall. I was the 97/7928 woman to cross the finish line. And I was 15/1442 in my division to finish. Disney Magic. Had to be. Not my best half marathon by a long shot, but given the circumstances…just…amazing to me.
Now, really, I need to show some mercy on my poor foot and toe. Time to heal.
Once again, Disney…you were expensive…but totally worth every bit of money I poured into you for those 4 days I was there. Despite not having the characters out on the course for much of the race, I have every desire to come back and do this one again. This time…without the downpour and preferably without the broken toe.
Disney…as always…you are my happy place. Thanks for another great race (and another great reason to dress up in costume to run!).
Me crossing the finish line with Natalie at the Urban Bourbon Half Marathon, Louisville, Kentucky
Race: Urban Bourbon Half Marathon
Place: Louisville, Kentucky
Date: October 25, 2014
Time:2:00:21
It was the weekend before the New York City Marathon…and I had not run over 2 miles. At all. Nope. Coming back after Twin Cities was a struggle. When you run a marathon you don’t train for…you hurt. When your foot already hurts…you hurt longer and more than you thought was humanly possible. I took a full two weeks off after Twin Cities…no nothing. Just recovery. And then, because of inflammation and a bit of lingering soreness in the foot…I picked up some light cardio on the machines, but still hesitated to get out there and pound the pavement. After one more week of cautionary workouts…I decided to try 1 mile. I did this every morning…and I felt like some progress was being made.
The problem with the foot meant that I was out of the Black Cat Chase 5K in Frankfort, Kentucky. I was bummed, because that is a great 5K to run. It’s at night. It’s usually cold. It’s fun. And I always duck into the coffee shop afterwards for apple cider to warm up. It wasn’t happening this year…not with this foot. The people in Frankfort were gracious enough to allow me to use the free entry I won towards next year. So…there it is.
I knew that New York City was looming. It was just…there. And I knew I needed to go for an easy double-digit run…working in some walking because you just don’t go from 1 mile to double digits right away. You just…don’t.
Awhile back, a friend of mine said she was training for the Urban Bourbon Half Marathon…and as I was out all summer, my intention was to show up…with signs…and cheer for her. I wasn’t going to tell her I was doing it. Just show up and surprise her. But…things sort of unraveled the week or so before the race. Needless to say…I ended up scrapping the plans this time.
But then, my friend Natalie, who swore off the Urban Bourbon (because this half marathon meant the end of the Big Hit Quarter and Half Marathons) was suddenly running it because our friend, and fellow runner, Terry, gave her a free entry. She, like me, has been dealing with injuries this year, and she decided since she hadn’t trained for it, she’d just go out there and run what she feels and it would all be grand. She told me, after I teased her about signing up for a race she said she’d never run, that she was going to do a run/walk method.
Which got me thinking about how necessary running over 1 mile a day was for me in order to prepare for New York City. After I texted her to make sure she wasn’t running for time (let’s face it…speed is not something I have right now)…and she confirmed…and that she would do a run/walk method…I said I’d like to run it with her, as a good gauge for how New York City would go. And…she even had a free entry code for me…so…free race. How could I say no?
Answer: I would have been stupid to turn it down.
Unexpected half marathon…registered.
So, after attending the Halloween Party at Annie May’s Sweet Café in Louisville, Kentucky (I went dressed as a “jogger”), where I got my gluten-free pizza (required!!), I went home and had to decide on something to wear. Natalie, in protest, was wearing one of her Big Hit shirts. Long sleeve. I wanted to dress the same as her…but the weather was saying 50 degrees that morning, and I didn’t think, from the picture, that I had that shirt (I do…I pulled it out even, but in my mind, as she had arm warmers with it, I thought it was a short sleeve shirt and the Big Hit short sleeve shirts were tents on me!), so I opted to be Natalie’s Tinkerbell. In other words…GREEN! I pulled out my new running skirt I got on sale at Nike and my bright green BlueMile t-shirt. That would work. I planned on testing out the Adidas Adizero Boston 5 shoes that my friend, and shoe guru, Jackson, put me in the weekend before when I limped into Fleet Feet. I had worn them on a couple of my little 1 mile jaunts…and loved them. They weren’t Newtons…but they do give me a comfortable ride. Adidas seems to be the other shoe I love. Go figure. Anyway, Jackson swore by them and I tested them out with a jog around the building. Foot felt good and comfortable in them. SOLD. They came home with me and that week I spent breaking them in properly…by wearing them everywhere. When the free entry to the Urban Bourbon came around…great way to test them in a race environment, even if I wasn’t racing this half marathon.
So, morning came around and I got dressed up and ate my breakfast – my usual bowl of cereal. Whatever gluten-free kind I have open. I did that…had a spot of coffee…drank some water…and got ready to go. The only thing I needed now was my BondiBand. It’s part of my race uniform. So I ended up going with a green one that said “Marathon Maniacs” on it. It worked. After a quick brush of my teeth, my extra clothes were grabbed and my banana for the start was picked up…I filled up my fuel belt with water and a new flavor of Gu (Vanilla Bean) to take halfway through…to practice some fueling. And then, Cathy and I headed for the car.
Surprisingly, parking was not an issue for this race. We picked the parking garage we parked in when I ran the Sports Commission Half Marathon two years ago, as it is right near the finish line for the race…and also very close to the start. So, it’s ideal, really. We got parked, gathered up everything and headed down to the staging area, in front of the KFC Yum Center. As we were crossing the street to go near the fountain, Natalie and Harry spotted us and yelled at us. We finished crossing and waited for them on the other side. They joined in and hugs were given. It feels like I lifetime since I had seen these two.
We all stood around for a little while…just talking and catching up. We spotted a woman dressed as a flapper (running gear style) and I thought it was fantastic. Then, to avoid port-a-potties…Harry, Natalie and I ducked over to the nearby Marriott to use their bathroom. I told you…I.AM.A.PRINCESS. Anyway…flushing toilets win every time. We met back where Cathy was holding down the fort and I snagged my banana to fuel…as we were 30 minutes out from the start of the race. Natalie had forgotten hers, but Cathy offered hers as she had other snacks for the day. We ate…we stretched…and eventually Harry and Natalie got out of their layers and just in their running gear. I was not wearing layers, LOL. So…I just had to hand over my hoodie.
Gear check was up next for them, so I wandered that way and while Natalie was in line, Harry and I stood to the side to chat a little. I was having a good time. The foot was a little…eh…but not bad. Taking it easy and just having a good run was all I wanted to do. It was all I needed to do. As Harry and I were turning to move onto the sidewalk, my friend who had been training for it was there. Just…there. She said a quick, quiet, “Hi” and turned away before I could utter anything other than “Hi” back. I wanted to at least wish her luck…didn’t have the chance.
From there….it was time to hit that starting corral. I stretched a little more, got a hug from Cathy as she was going to go get positioned at the start line to see us off, and then we stepped inside. The corral system has no system other than everyone gets inside. No pace groups. Nothing. Just find a spot and keep moving. I did a couple more stretches, was found by running friend Dennis (who I knew I couldn’t hang with because he all-out runs everything!), but we talked, waved to other people we knew, and then the National Anthem was played, beautifully, on a horn. I mean…beautiful. And with that…the starting gun went off…and so did we.
We made our way toward the start line before the initial jog started…then after we crossed…it was on. Cathy was on the sideline making noise and we waved as we passed…and immediately went around a turn. I wasn’t expecting that. HA! Usually these races that start in front of the Yum Center go straight down Main Street. Nope…the immediate turn onto 2nd Street sort of threw me for a loop. But…you just move with the crowd and go. We also dodged a police car and ended up hopping up on the sidewalk for some of that first mile. This is typical. The course is always crowded at the start and we just wanted to get into the groove. I let Natalie set the pace and off we went. The foot twinged only a couple of times. But I was laughing and having some fun. That was the point.
We made another turn onto E Mohammad Ali Blvd and the course opened up…a little. This was going to take us over to Lexington Road, sort of on the back side of Cave Hill Cemetery. I never really ran over there that much, so as we are going, I can’t help but comment about how I had no idea where we were, except that we were near Cave Hill. Once the wall disappeared from the scenery, I was totally lost. But, I subscribe to the “just run where everyone else is going” method of racing (I am NEVER the person in the lead!), and that’s always worked out well for me. I knew that at some point we hit Cherokee Park, so I figured things would start to look familiar soon enough.
I was right. We were coming up the Beargrass Creek Greenway…and ahead was the entrance to Cherokee Park, which I have actually run a couple times. Hitting the park was like finally getting back in familiar territory, despite the fact that we run the Scenic Loop backwards. I hate doing the Scenic Loop backwards…but…eh…whatever. So, together we made our way through Mile 4, and then diverge off the Scenic Loop briefly to run to a turn-around spot. Natalie wasn’t carrying a fuel belt, so we were doing water stops for her. She grabbed water at Mile 5 and we continued on. What I didn’t realize was that after we got back onto the normal course, we were sent up Barret Hill Road. I have never run this road. It has the word hill in it…so…heh…you know…
I did not know what I was getting myself into. I hadn’t run hills since Twin Cities (and I walked most of those to save my foot). I told Natalie she was going to have to get me through it. And she was behind me the entire time, telling me to keep going, that I was almost there. This climb was crazy. I didn’t think it was going to end. But when I reached the top, I put my hands up in victory, and she came up a moment later and we were back on track. I was surprised how well I handled the hill, honestly. We eventually were led back to the Scenic Loop and as we followed it around, up the hill toward Hogan’s Fountain…things started to get a little rough for Natalie. She began to have some problems with her hips. Not sure if was a cramping issue or just the whole…battle she has waged this past year…we eased the pace. She was hoping for some Gatorade at the water stop ahead, but they had only water. Because it sounded like she needed electrolytes and stat…I gave her the bottle on my fuel belt with my Nuun in it. We kept on moving, trolling the hills of the park…partying at the top of Dog Hill and curving off, hitting Alexander Road and Mile 7. I hadn’t fueled yet and Natalie needed to fuel…so, I grabbed my Gu pack and my water. I downed my gel as if it were going out of style. Vanilla Bean. Yuck. Too sweet. Glad I discovered that then. Natalie has to take hers in slowly, so we jogged while she took it in doses so as not to upset her stomach. We polished off the fuel and headed out onto Cherokee Parkway.
She was really starting to hurt now. I could tell. We eased the pace some more and kept on pushing. Near the area where Cherokee Parkway meets Grinstead, I spotted Laura. I ran up to her and could see she wasn’t feeling all that well. I asked how she was and she said she was a little lightheaded, so she slowed her pace and took some of her chews to see if that would help. She was hoping to see Michael soon…(he was in 3 different places on the course!)…and would figure things out from there. After making sure she didn’t need anything, Natalie and I turned onto Grinstead and started down the other side of Cave Hill Cemetery.
Then…came her knee pain. It was enough to bring her to a walk. So…we walked a little bit, giving her some time to ease up on the impact, pressure, and allowing a bit of recovery. She chose a sign to pick up the pace again, and we did for as long as she could. She told me to go on without her, but I never leave a runner behind and I was going to see her to that finish line. I wasn’t running this for time…I was running this for distance. So, whatever the clock said was not important to me. Seeing my friend finish…that was important.
We kept this run walk method going throughout much of the last five miles. I would find myself getting ahead of her and I would double back and pick her up…keep moving with her…let her know she was doing well. Focus on anything else but what was bothering her. She had put her headphones in. I think her music was on. I didn’t care. I was going to get her to that finish line. As we rounded onto Baxter Avenue, you would think a party was going on. Mony Mony was blaring, runners were having a blast dancing to it…and we joined in. It was a great pump-you-up song and perfect timing as we were heading toward Mile 10…and the last 5K of the race. Natalie had said if she could get to Mile 10, she knew she could finish. I knew she would finish even if she walked there. But we hit Mile 10 (she was behaving and not looking at timing clocks or her watch the entire time!) and I told her…we were almost home.
We were now running toward downtown now. I knew this course well. I’d done this part a dozen times on training runs. I was bursting with the energy of the race and I found myself up ahead. I would turn my head and locate Natalie. If she had fallen behind…I would loop around…if she was just a bit behind me…I’d jog in place or slow down until she got back to where I was. And this was how it worked for the last 3 miles. She was a trooper. We wanted to cross that finish line together, so it was my duty to make that happen. Run…walk…run…walk…all the way through the turns for Mile 12. One mile to go. I held up 1 finger as encouragement…and we went…down Main Street. I ran…I stopped to wait for her…I got her going. We were close. The crowd was getting louder. The finish line was ahead. I could see it. I could see it. She was struggling, so I reached back and took her hand. And together…we headed to that finish line, one step at a time…and crossed at the same time.
It was the perfect ending to the race. Natalie and I hugged. She stopped her watch and I stopped mine. And she said she PR’d by 5 minutes. Holy freakin’ cow!! I told her, “See what happens when you stop worrying about time and just go out and enjoy the run?” She nodded. She was hurting, but we moved through the finish area, collecting our medals and our foils. More hugs. I dropped her off at the First Aid tent…as she needed some ice for her knee. I continued on to meet up with Cathy, collecting some grapes, water, and chocolate milk along the way.
Harry, Me, and Natalie showing off our bling after running the Urban Bourbon Half Marathon, Louisville, Kentucky
I was so damn proud of Natalie. She really just pushed through and managed to achieve a new personal best without even trying. This is why I run every race for fun. Anything can happen on race day…so going in without high expectations means that I enjoy it and often do better than anticipated. I met up with Cathy and did a bit of stretching. I had the opportunity to talk with my friend Brant (who was pacing a friend of his through his first half marathon!) for a bit…and then we went to find Natalie and Harry for pictures. They were going for pizza afterwards for their recovery lunch. Cathy and I hit up Whole Foods for soup…keeping it light because that evening we were meeting up with her sister, Amanda, to eat Indian food at Shalimar and then go on the Pumpkin Walk at Iroquois Park (which was AMAZING and I want to do it again next year!).
So, as it stands, I finished the Urban Bourbon Half Marathon in 2:00:21, crossing that finish line hand-in-hand with Natalie. Honestly…I still smile. I was 837/2777 finishers. I was 283/1553 women to cross the finish line. And I was 59/298 in my division. I’ll take it. Because this was not a run for time. This was a run to just enjoy…train…see how the foot would hold up. And I ended up helping my friend to an amazing finish. I wouldn’t have traded that for the world.
A very good friend, Jen Greunke, from one of my running groups randomly posted something today on Facebook. She simply said:
“Here’s the ugly truth: there will be people in your life that will always let you down, people that no matter how much you want something for them, they can’t find the desire and courage within themselves to want it for themselves. You can not help everyone. Sometimes the people you want to help the most are often the most difficult. Sometimes the people you want something for just aren’t ready…they may never be ready. Here’s the part you HAVE to understand: just because you can’t help those people does NOT mean you’re not helping people. There will be people who make promises, people who say they’re going to do something and then break those promises and fail on what they say. Keep trying anyway. Life isn’t about the hurt but about the happiness and joy in the people you CAN help because they WANT to be helped.”
I read her post over a few times and it all just sort of hit home with me. I’m notorious for caring way too much…about people…about what other people think about me…about how I am perceived by others. And all of this came to a stressful and explosive head this past weekend for me. The matter is personal, but the basic gist of the tale is this…
I cared too damn much again. And in the end, all I got was hurt. I trust the wrong people. I believe people won’t be hurtful. And sometimes…I’m wrong. I’m just wrong. When things are said to me…about me…that are so off-base with the person I am…well…it makes me take a good long, hard look at myself and my life. It made me really think…long and hard…about the people in my life…and what they do FOR me. Do they lift me up when I’m down…or simply compare their woes to mine? Do they make me smile or do they pull me further down? Do they support me or do they hold me back? Do they truly know me or did they never bother to look past the surface in the first place? Yes…people let me down and people hurt me…even when I’ve done whatever possible to help them and get them through tough times. But you know what? I also let myself down and I often find myself thinking negatively about who I am…what I do…how I look. It’s a never ending cycle…and it’s also very human.
This has been a pretty damn hard summer for me this year. Starting in July, my foot flared up, for no reason…and has yet to get back to normal. I rested it for two months…I got othodics…I got hurt by the orthodics…I put on weight…I stressed…I went swimming to not put pressure on my foot at all…I gave up my cardio sessions for lifting weights…none of this was as satisfying as the run. It made me cranky…it made me restless…it made me angry…at life…at God…at my body. I felt betrayed by my own body…lost. And it sucked.
And people…very good people…some I know in person and some only via some close groups I met via Facebook…gave me their shoulders, their advice, their love. And while the words they say didn’t always make me smile and didn’t sugar coat the situation, I trusted them. And they helped me believe in myself again.
But demons…they are tricky.
Demons…as in the internal kind. Those little parasites in your mind. Those thoughts and words that make you give up and give in. I SURRENDER!! I can’t do this. I’ll never get back to my racing shape. I hate the person I am right now. I don’t like myself. Say what you like, but self-hatred is a hard beast to slay. And when you grew up with low self-esteem, and as an adult still have issues with how you perceive yourself because a part of you will never see that you’re beautiful, or good at this, or strong at that…well…those little thoughts become a huge problem.
And days like today…that huge problem feels larger than life.
As I was making my initial comeback, I was doing better. Negative thoughts were there, my speed was slower than I liked, but I was out there. And when the custom orthodics created another big problem in my recovery and comeback, the setback was enough to bring me to tears. I was supposed to be getting better…not worse. How can something that was meant to help me end up hurting me?
Yeah…I had some Nancy Kerrigan “Why me?!” syndrome going on. It happens. Thankfully there are people in my life who snapped me out of it. Those are the people I need. The people who know I’m stressed out and take the peanut butter jar and spoon away from me and tell me to do some fucking yoga instead…
The go-getters. The can-doers. The glass is half full so drink it down and start again-ers.
I site my friends Heather Dillon and Cathy Dailey for recent events. I was set to run the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon in Minneapolis, Minnesota. The days leading up to the race left me with no training runs due to the orthodics being wrong and leaving my foot throbbing and aching worse than when it was initially inflamed. All the way to Minnesota and throughout the day before the race, I kept saying I didn’t think I could do it. There was no way I could run it. I wasn’t trained. I hadn’t been able to run or train. I didn’t want to get hurt…
And they nodded and simply said, “You can do it” and “You will do it” and “When you finish…”
Positive reinforcement. Suddenly, not running it didn’t seem like an option. And held together by KT Tape, determination, good friends along the way, and a whole lot of prayer…I toed that start line and even made it to the finish line. It wasn’t the race I wanted it to be. I walked more than I wanted to, but when you can’t train to run that distance, you can’t expect to just go out and run that distance. Lots of walking…but I had no shame in it. I cried a lot on that race course. And when I crossed that finish line, as sore as my body felt, I was really damn proud of myself and so grateful for so many things: the strangers on the sidelines who encouraged me when I had to walk, for my family for being there, for two of my running friends for the hugs on the race course, for Heather and Cathy…because I might not have gotten up that morning without their encouragement and belief in me and my abilities. Or, their belief in me…when I was doubting it all.
The fact of the matter is…we all have dragons to slay and demons to fight. And sometimes…it’s not an easy battle to win. Trust me. I’ve been on a roller coaster of emotions since July. I’m still fighting my way through it. This comeback kid was starting to fall back. The comeback was no longer sweet…but sour. All my fight and perseverance…was turning into just giving up and giving in. It’s hard to fight what seems and feels like a battle that you just can’t win. I make progress…and then fall back. Two steps forward, three steps back. It gets tiresome after awhile. And you finally just have enough.
Thankfully…while I gave up on myself and my abilities…not everyone did. These people HELPED me. And I wouldn’t be typing this today if they hadn’t been there through all the darkness. Some people have turned away, let me fight my own battle, but some people lift their own shields and weapons and stand strong with me…because while I feel like a quitter…I’m not going to quit. And they know that while I might be in a dark place right now…I have a spark inside of me…and when it finally flares…well…the comeback will be complete.
Demons will be banished and dragons slayed…
As for my comeback…the process is slow. I have the New York City Marathon in 19 days…and have yet to feel confident about my run. In fact, wisely enough, I have taken over a week off to allow my body to heal from the strain of the Twin Cities Marathon. My limp is gone. My foot still hurts, but it is manageable. And that’s why I haven’t set out to run…because…I don’t want to make it unmanageable again. I do my ankle exercises and my foot exercises and every day I wake up hoping to feel a little bit better than the day before.
My friend, Julie Larson, a fellow runner who is coming back from surgery, posted a quote this morning on her Facebook page. It struck home. It said:
“At some point you have to stop making a comeback and start running toward who you are meant to be.” – Lauren Fleshman
It really just struck a chord with me. I want to make a comeback, of course, but first…I think I need to rediscover myself. I need to just…do this for me for awhile. Not times, not races, not miles…but just…for me. I let myself down, but it doesn’t mean that I have to stay down. Time to get back up, dust myself off, and try it again. Time to stop letting others and my own self-doubt and self-hate bring me down. Time to learn the art of patience. Because, everything takes time. And the greatest accomplishments aren’t achieved overnight. Patience really is a virtue and it’s something I’m going to work on.
The rest…will all fall into place and come together. Yes…very recently I have felt let down, betrayed, hurt and lost. And some of it has been due to others, but a lot of it has been because of me. Time to refocus. Time to keep believing…in what I do and who I am. And when I falter, because I’m human and it will happen, I at least know I’m in good hands…with friends who know me and take me for who I am…but refuse to let me give up.
Me heading for the Finish Line of the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon, Minneapolis/St. Paul, Minnesota
Race: Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon
Place: Minneapolis/St. Paul, Minnesota
Date: October 5, 2014
Time:3:51:52
“One thing about racing is that it hurts. You better accept that from the beginning or you’re not going anywhere.” – Bob Kennedy
Pushing through the pain is not my style. Doing damage to myself is not something I strive to do. I don’t believe in pushing myself to the point of puking when it comes to running. My body is my temple and I am trying, through this blasted foot injury, to keep it moving, going, and getting strong. The last thing on my to-do list is…get hurt…more/again.
So…this was certainly on my mind when I boarded a plane to Minneapolis, Minnesota last Friday. Honestly. My custom orthodics were doing more damage and causing more pain than they should have been. I had been in to see the podiatrist twice since getting them, and had them readjusted. I was still limping throughout the day…something that got worse as I moved about the Louisville airport. I’m sure part of that was the 15 pound backpack I was carrying around, but it seemed the more I stepped, the worse it got. And thanks to that fire at the air traffic control tower in Chicago, the flight leaving Louisville was delayed by 2 hours. And then…once we got to Midway, we had another delay, which wouldn’t put is in Minneapolis until past midnight. I hated to do this to my aunt, Jan, who graciously was coming out to get us…but that’s how air travel through Chicago is currently working. And it sucked.
That being said, the security line in Louisville was non-existent for a Friday. Barely any wait time. And then the delay meant we had plenty of time to kill. So, Cathy and I decided we would find something to eat for dinner. We were originally going to do that at Midway…but…now it made sense to do it here. Cathy ended up getting some soup from Chili’s and I ate an apple and a gluten-free granola bar that I brought with me. I figured it could at least hold me to Midway, right? Right. Then, I got out my Moji 360 Mini Massager and had Cathy help me roll it across the bottom of my foot, which is where most of the pain was happening at that moment. It hurt…like…a lot. It would have to do for the time being. We walked around a bit more (there is only so much to do at the Louisville airport…trust me)…until we finally got to line up to get on the plane. Guess what? I was A1. HAHA! First on the plane after the special boarding for those traveling alone or in need of assistance. Awesome. On Southwest Airlines…the closer to the front of the plane, the better. Even if I knew we were in no hurry to catch a flight at Midway. It was the fact that for the first (and probably only) time…I was A1.
Thumbs down for left foot pain at the airport on the way to Minneapolis. This is one very unhappy runner…
The flight to Midway was dull and uninteresting, which is how I prefer flights. Even the landing was smooth and perfect. We disembarked and went to check the screen. Yes…definitely delayed. So…time to do more hiking around. As we were doing so, I started limping even more. My foot was killing me. Cathy made a suggestion…telling me to take the orthodic out of my left shoe, since it seemed to be doing more harm than good. I had no inserts for my shoe…but, I figured it couldn’t hurt any worse, and if it did, I could put the orthodic back in. It actually offered a small amount of relief. Just a little. But it was definitely more tolerable. I just want to interject that the orthodics were supposed to help me move pain-free. These particular ones fail. On the Wednesday before leaving, I had gone back in for further adjustment on the orthodic for that foot and my podiatrist ended up calling the orthodic place and telling them he had an elite marathoner and they suggested recasting the orthodic, but with some posts that will give more stability and can be adjusted. Problem…they wouldn’t be in before I left for Minneapolis. So, we went over how to tape the shit out of my foot for stability and he wished me luck. He didn’t tell me not to do it…which I appreciated it…but not being able to do it was definitely weighing heavy on my mind as I hobbled through the terminals of Midway in Chicago. To amuse ourselves, Cathy and I did spot a really cute sailor in the navy…and stalked him for a little while. He was gorgeous. But…we lost him after he ducked into a bakery place. Dang. We grabbed a small snack and settled in on the floor of our gate to wait on the plane coming in so we could then board it and fly to Minnesota.
And when it finally happened, I was tired and cranky. I took the front row of the plane, shoving my bag in the overhead compartment for the extra leg room instead. I fell in and out of consciousness…long day…having been up since 3:30 a.m. to finish packing and get to my spin class at the gym by 5:15 a.m. But…as I drifted back into consciousness…the clouds now looked like some crazy test pattern…and Cathy pointed out that it WAS SNOWING! SNOW! I don’t even like the sound of it. You guys all know that me and cold weather are like oil and water. We just don’t work well together. SNOW!! UGH!! Thankfully, it was only snow above the clouds…because as we finally began our descent into Minneapolis, it was rain. Just rain. Thank goodness. But…DAMN…it was cold. When I had packed for the race, my weather channel app still told me race morning would be in the low 40s. But now it was in the 30s. I wasn’t really prepared for weather in the 30s for running, so I said if I had to I would purchase something to wear at the expo on Saturday morning. That was the plan.
Jan found us at the baggage claim, and thankfully the bags didn’t take too long to come through. We were off to the car, then making our way to my grandpa’s house. She had the room set up, and Cathy took the air mattress. I set an alarm for 7:30 a.m. and made plans with my friend, Heather, to get together for the expo. She was going to pick Cathy and I up at my grandpa’s home in the morning and we would go and get my race packet and check out the expo. I figured we’d go from there…probably returning home. But first…sleep.
Saturday morning came and I was up with my alarm. I heard my grandpa moving about and ended up settling in on the couch. He asked if I wanted to go play Bingo with him at the grocery store. I normally would…but I was still in my pajamas and not in any way ready to go out in public. I hadn’t even had breakfast (which Jan was kind enough to hit up the Cub Foods the night before to get me some gluten-free bagels, vegan cream cheese, and some Greek yogurt)…so he went off without me. I ate some yogurt while toasting the bagels in the oven (no cross-contamination!). Cathy and I ate breakfast, got dressed, brushed teeth and made ourselves presentable. I grabbed the race packet that arrived in the mail with my Bib Number and Corral listed. And then we waited for Heather. Heather texted around the time she was going to leave and said she was running late…so we just sort of settled. Grandpa returned from Bingo, having won a $10 gift card to the grocery store. My aunt emerged from her basement living space and she and Grandpa prepared to head out to some Man Cave car show thing. They gave me a house key, in case we made it back before them, and they went off.
Heather arrived soon after and Cathy and I locked up the house and climbed into the car. Heather took us into Saint Paul and we parked in a street lot, which was supposedly $10, but due to it being the weekend, ended up being only $4. WOOHOO! Love it. We made our way from the car to the Saint Paul RiverCentre where the Health and Wellness Expo was being hosted. We ducked inside and made our way toward the back where the race packets were being handed out. I was…actually surprised. The expo was really massive. Much bigger than any of the much smaller expos I have gone through in Minnesota. This wasn’t quite Chicago size…but it was really massive with a lot of vendors. I spotted the Newton booth and knew I needed some new shoes (not to wear on Sunday…but in general)…and made a note to stop by there. The race packet was important and I stepped up near the first line as I was Bib #1306 and in the first corral to be sent off. NICE! Just wish I felt like I belonged there. Damn foot. The volunteer checked my race information packet and my ID before retrieving my bag, which contained a pair of socks…no race shirt. I was…sad. I really was. All of this and no race shirt??!! I handed the bag over to Cathy and pulled out my envelope with the chip I needed to attach to my shoe so I could go and run it over the sensor to make sure it was activated. It worked. Time to shop.
I actually didn’t go too crazy here. The three of us methodically worked our way up and down the aisles, grabbing free samples and playing a few giveaway games. That’s how I won Minute Rice. And a cowbell. LOL! Cathy actually told me to win the cowbell…and when I spun the wheel…I just happened to land on that spot. Go me. The same thing happened at the Minute Rice booth. I guess I was lucky on Saturday. We stocked up on freebies…checked out some races that were represented, and just kept moving. Since I had no race shirt, I had to duck into the merchandise area and purchase one. I wasn’t really happy with the meager selection left in my size…but found a couple that I liked. I bought one…and, being the awesome BFF that she is, Heather got me the other one as a belated birthday gift. We grabbed some free Caribou Coffee and headed out.
Heather taking me on a drive through the race route the afternoon before. SO helpful!
Heather had a really great idea…to drive as much of the course that we possibly could…depending on road closures. With my foot not feeling great, I was still not certain I’d be able to race or run…but thought this was a good way to take a look at what lay ahead of me. We quickly ducked into a record store for Cathy to check out some stuff, and then headed out to get back to Minneapolis and drive from start to finish. This was the first time I had ever done this, but it gave me a chance to get a feel for the areas I would be taking on the following morning. We started off, with the understanding that I would walk the hills and run the rest of it. This was the plan. So…off we went. And, let me tell you, there were plenty of hills that awaited me. But the tour of the course was one of the best things I ever did. And with Heather as a guide, I knew when to just really take in my surroundings, which side I needed to be on, and what points she and Cathy were going to attempt to see me along the way the next morning. This took a bit of time, but we got it done and it was really good to have all of that in mind.
My cousin, Molly, was working with Jan to get a dinner together with some of the family. We were going to check out Pizza Luce, which is one of the area’s highest rated pizza place…and yes…they have a gluten-free pizza. Naturally. After the disaster that was Pizza Ranch the last time I raced in Minneapolis…this was hopefully going to be better. We arrived early, so ducked over to Target because I needed some cheap throwaway gloves for the cold morning on Sunday. After that, we returned to Pizza Luce and joined my cousin Molly, her hubby, her three kids, my cousin Andy and his wife…and my aunt arrived last. We were seated (thanks to Molly making a reservation) very quickly and all just started talking. It had been over a year since I was last up there (I ran the Lake Minnetonka Half Marathon the last time) and we had so much to talk about. Molly had just had a baby a couple months ago and Andy had just gotten married. So…yeah…lots happening. We all ordered some food (Cathy, Heather, and I hadn’t had anything since breakfast so we were hungry and it was after 5 pm now). I ended up getting the Gluten Free Wild Mushroom and Arugula Pizza and split it with Cathy. It was really good. We didn’t linger too long afterwards. It had been a long day, I was tired and sore, Heather needed to get home, and I still had to go see my cousin Natalie, who was coming by my grandpa’s house. So we all went our separate ways, with Molly and Co. heading to grandpa’s as well for a little while…YAY! It was good to get together with my cousins. And Natalie wore her “I Run Marathons” shirt (even though she doesn’t…but said it felt appropriate!). We sat and talked and played with the kids…until it was time to turn in. Cathy remembered to really tape the hell out of my foot, ankle, and calf that night…so I was pretty well set for the early morning that awaited us.
Cathy’s mummification of my foot/ankle/leg for better stability. It worked!
At 4:00 a.m. my first alarm went off. I got up and got some stuff together…did my normal first alarm routine…then went back to sleep for a little longer. In that short span of time, I had a dream about the race and being the last person across the start line. Craziness. At 5:00 a.m…the actual alarm went off. I got up to get the oven preheated and to get changed into my race clothes. As it was really flippin’ cold up outside…after I suited up, I put my yoga pants back on and went ahead and put on my hoodie. I changed that out for my fleece I brought, just in case, before we left. I realized that morning that I didn’t have my cereal with me to eat pre-race, so I decided, if this race happened, I would be run-walking it…then having something different that morning couldn’t hurt too much. So, it was Greek yogurt with a gluten-free bagel and vegan cream cheese. I ate slowly, so as not to upset my tummy and just sort of flexed my foot a little…trying to decide if I was going to do it or not. In the end…I was dressed and fed, so I grabbed a banana, my fuel belt, and we left my grandpa’s house in my aunt’s car and headed into the city.
Finding parking was actually not a problem. I was surprised. Cathy located a great parking garage that was close to the start without being one that would be hell to get out of later. Love that. We parked and headed out into the cold Minnesota air, hearing the announcer talk about the start of the 10 Mile race, or as they like to call it…the “Shortcut to the Capitol” was gearing up to leave. Runners for the 10 Miler were getting in their corrals, so we headed over that way to see them off. Got there just as the National Anthem was finishing up and soon…Corral 1 was off. Just like that. We felt a bit in the way…so after a few clangs of a cowbell and some cheering, we meandered back to where the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon was going to start. There was going to be a Marathon Maniac’s picture at the entrance of Corral 3…but I didn’t make it back that way in time. Instead, I peeled my banana…and began moving up again through the corrals. And, just as we were getting up to where the Start Line was…here comes Heather! YAY! She had texted/called my phone, which I had given to Cathy so I didn’t obsess over it, but somehow Cathy missed it. Regardless…she found us just in time. We moved through the onslaught of runners heading in the opposite direction so that she and Cathy could find a spot to stand to see me off. They found a great spot too, just past the media on the corner. We took a few pictures with the Start Line…and then I finally had to shed my warm jacket and pants…and start getting acclimated. I got hugs from both and got some photos snapped so they could post them on Facebook…and then…I was off to get situated in Corral 1.
I am not going to lie…I was freezing. I moved to the back of the corral to start…but then ended up moving up little-by-little until I found an open spot somewhere in the middle near the left side. I promised that I would stretch when I got in my corral, and I kept that promise. If there is one thing I have learned, it is how powerful and important that stretching is. As I was finishing that up, I heard a “Hi Maniac!” coming from behind me. For the record, I was wearing my Marathon Maniac’s singlet. Anyway…it was a very nice guy, also a member of the Marathon Maniacs, and he said that I looked cold. I told him I was cold and he laughed and said I must not be from Minnesota. Very observant. HA! We chatted for a bit, and then he went in search of more Maniacs. I decided I didn’t like being that far back in the corral and moved up some more…and then some more…and a little bit more. I just got settled in a new spot when the announcer came on and welcomed us to the race. The National Anthem was sung, off key, but it was there…and then…we were sent off at exactly 8:00 a.m.
It didn’t take too long for me to cross that start line and I immediately hung at the left so I could see Cathy and Heather. I did…and they were loud and cheered just as loud for me. This was the first time in over a week that I had ventured out for a run. Seriously. And I wasn’t sure what my foot would do. The anti-inflammatory I took that morning seemed to be doing its job. There was a slight bit of pain…but nothing I hadn’t run through before. I was off…and starting the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon – which is known as The Most Beautiful Urban Marathon in America.
My strategy was simple…run when I could…walk when I had to…and if I had to crawl…I’d do that…but I committed to running this by crossing that start line, and I would do my best to see the race to the finish. I told Cathy that morning, I wasn’t sure I could finish…and not to get mad if I dropped out. She said she wouldn’t be mad, but she wanted to be sure I wouldn’t be mad at myself. I was certain I would be…but if I hurt, I wasn’t going to do further damage to myself. The goal was to treat this as training…and that was my entire goal. In fact, I started off at a very easy pace, I thought…but I realized my first mile was sub-8…so I backed off on that second mile and relaxed. I didn’t worry about pace or anything else…I just ran how I felt. That was the only thing I could do.
Prior to this race, I had managed to do one training run of 13.1 miles, on the day after my birthday. That was a good 3 weeks prior to this run. I struggled, having not run any double digit runs since July. I told myself I would go mile-by-mile and just assess how I was feeling. If anything, I could at least get halfway through. I had done it before…albeit on a foot that hurt less…but the more I was out there, the more I loosened up and the better I felt. I hit the 5K mark at 25:23…not great, but not bad for someone who has barely run. The next gauge was the 10K mark and that came just after we ran around the second lake on the course. Let me take a moment here to say that this course is stunning. Gorgeous. The leaves are changing in Minnesota…bright oranges and reds…all canopied overhead as you take to the streets of the city. People were everywhere to cheer. There wasn’t really a lull in the crowds at all throughout the entire thing. And the energy was just what I needed that morning. I hit the 10K mark at 50:02. And kept on going. I was really just loving the run. I was feeling okay…minor pain if any…and taking it all in. I just kept moving…and as I was making the turn at Mile 11…Heather and Cathy were there…and they were just screaming! That was just what I needed then, and I smiled, waved, and on I went. They were heading to Mile 17…as we previously discussed. Mile 11 was a nice surprise.
Mile 17 Cheer Squad: Paul, Heather, Grandpa, Jan (not pictured: Cathy…who took the pic)
Perseverance and sheer stubbornness propelled me through to the halfway point. I hit the 13.1 mile mark at 1:46:10…which is rather good, if you’re asking me. I knew that had been the furthest I had managed to train, so my common sense kicked in, and I chose to run the second half with my head…not my heart. This meant, slow the pace, walk the hills, just keep going forward. And, I immediately did just that. I turned what had started as a beautiful and nearly perfect run into a walk-run. I walked the hills. I walked when my feet hurt. I ran in between. I just started to push myself to play this smart. The last thing I needed to do was get injured again or aggravate something even further. Yes…I am aware that running a marathon was probably not the best way to avoid this…but this one was important. And as I ran…then walked…then ran through the next few miles…the reason I was out there finally made an appearance.
It was Mile 17. I knew Heather and Cathy were going to be there. But what I saw as I headed just past the Clif Shot Energy Zone was more than this little bucket of emotions could handle. There, clapping, making some noise…and just being the epitome of awesome…was my peeps. Cathy, Heather, my friend Paul, my aunt Jan…and yes…grandpa! Finally, my grandpa was well enough to make it out to see me run. I was just thankful that at that point I was running. HAHA! I picked up the pace when I saw them. I picked it up more as I heard them. And I touched my heart and held my arms up to them as I ran past. It wasn’t sunny at that point, but I was thankful to have my sunglasses on, because when I saw my grandpa standing there, I cried. Tears. Just…gone. I took a few deep breaths and regained my composure. I had 9 more miles ahead of me until I saw my peeps again…as I knew that at least Cathy and Heather would be at the finish line. Time to dig deep, dig in, and finish what I started.
The next two miles ran parallel to the Mississippi River. At Mile 19, we crossed over the river via a bridge and started down the other side. I knew that at Mile 20.5, my friend Kristen was stationed, having run the 10 miler that morning. She said she’d watch for me, and knowing that she was waiting was what propelled me onward. I also knew that around Mile 20, the beginning of epic 200 foot climb over the next 3 miles was about to begin. I saw the water station ahead and suddenly, Kristen, clad all in green, shouted. I was thrilled and ran over to her. We hugged…and she told me I looked great and to keep going. I did. How could I not after getting a hug when I was feeling so down? It lifted my spirits and my mood. I really needed that.
But the hugging and love didn’t stop there. Nope. Another friend of mine, Julie, was a course marshal between Miles 22-23. And she somehow managed to spot me in the crowd as well. I heard her shout and looked up…and rushed over to her for more hugs. She again sent me on my way, saying that I looked good and was doing great. I love my friends. Honestly. When I was struggling…when I was beating myself up…someone…a friend or a stranger…was there to encourage me. Even those simply spectating…when I’d start to walk a hill, I would hear, “Good job 1306! One foot in front of the other. Keep going. You’re almost there. Proud of you!” I teared up a few times. This race was an emotional roller coaster for me.
But, I was close now. I was within the last 5K. I kept saying I would just run the entire way, but the run-walk intervals had taken their toll and my legs were really starting to feel it. My feet hurt…and I was just determined at this point to finish. I wasn’t doing this one for time…this one was for me. This one was for my grandpa! This one was training. It had to be! The next few miles ticked by…slow and steady…and as I came into the heart of St. Paul, the crowds lifted me up and carried me that last mile. I was getting closer. I could hear the announcer. Down a hill and straight on to the finish line. I saw Heather and Cathy on my right and they were screaming for me. I held my hands up against my chest in the shape of a heart as I started to cry again. Honestly, friends see you through so much in life. I was hoping to see my grandpa there again, but my aunt took him home. The finish was ahead, so after I passed them I focused on making it to that line. I crossed…in a miraculous 3:51:52.
How I pulled that off is beyond me…but as I walked away from the camera…the tears flowed. Yep…I cried…and hobbled through the finisher’s area. I was handed my medal, which was placed around my neck. I was given a Mylar blanket and some water. A banana. Salty snacks…and urged toward the area for the finisher photographs. From there…I got my Finisher’s t-shirt. Yes…this is brilliant. At the Twin Cities Marathon, you don’t get your finisher’s shirt until you…*gasp*…FINISH! Great incentive, yes? I got through with that and managed to find the Caribou Coffee tent. I got a cup of coffee…because it’s Caribou Coffee and I was still cold. You know I am still cold when I cross a marathon finish line still wearing my makeshift arm warmers and my toss away gloves. HA! And then, I slowly started to make my way to the Family Reunion Area. My feet hurt. My entire body hurt. But I was done. I had done it…despite having my own doubts about my abilities.
As I was making my way up the incline toward the Letter X (our standard go-to for meeting), a man handed me a plastic bag to put all the stuff that runners get in the finishing area. I thanked him and was able to make my way up a little easier now. Cathy spotted me, dropped her sign and came running my way to give me a hug. I started crying again. She said she was so proud of me and we walked up to where Heather was holding down the fort. More hugs and high praise! I was on Cloud Nine! We laid out my Mylar blanket and I sat down. Cathy went to work changing my shoes from my Newtons to my Adidas Boosts and getting me straight into compression socks.
Cathy, Me, and Heather after the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon in Minneapolis/St. Paul, Minnesota
And, for a moment, my elation…my joy…went away. A quick glance at my cell phone…where I was showered with so many words of encouragement and love and people telling me how proud they were of me…and one person made it all seem so…meaningless. I set my phone down…took a deep breath…and listened to Heather and Cathy about letting it go. I did something remarkable…and to focus only on that. Then they started bragging about me to people. Seriously, these two are awesome! Heather helped stretch me out and get my legs up after she called the restaurant we were looking at for a possible place to eat lunch. My stomach wanted nothing to do with food at the moment, but I knew in about 30 minutes I’d need something. Perfect timing…they said they were in between rushes.
We hung on the lawn for a moment more, then headed down the streets of St. Paul to meet up with…Paul…who was back from his Mile 17 appearance and ready to join us for some celebratory pub grub (which is starting to become a tradition…either that or Mexican). I went into the bathroom and changed and joined my friends for some amazing food. Recovery was happening. After we ate and split THE BEST DESSERT EVER…we went our separate ways. I went back to grandpa’s house to shower and then we headed to the Mall of America…because I needed to keep moving and what better place to get your walk on? I ended up treating myself to a new dress from the former Bettie Page store (now called Tatyana). I rock this dress! Thanks for making me try it on, Heather! After shopping, we went our separate ways. It was, honestly, worth every doubt that ever came into my mind.
My official time for the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon was 3:51:52. I was 2351 out of 8852 finishers overall. I was the 712/3996 female to cross the finish line. And I was 145/703 in my age division to finish. Not too shabby at all. Is it the race I wanted? Certainly not. But it was my favorite marathon to date for so many reasons. Mostly…because despite being unable to perform up to my potential…I never gave up…and there were people who saw me through. Not just those I knew…but strangers too. And there is something so uplifting and so…amazing about that in the end. Most of all, I’m glad that the third time was the charm, and my grandpa finally had a chance to see me run. He has run the Twin Cities Marathon quite a few times, so this one was special in that aspect too!
And now…it’s all about recovery…because NYC awaits…
My grandpa, Howard A. Brady, in his 1993 Twin Cities Marathon Finisher’s shirt and medal and me in my 2014 gear! Running…it’s a generational thing!
“It’s very hard in the beginning to understand that the whole idea is not to beat the other runners. Eventually you learn that the competition is against the little voice inside you that wants you to quit.” -George Sheehan
I am a beautiful work in progress.
Right?
I try to keep telling myself this, but there are moments of the day, when the doubts about my ability to run…run like the wind…run like I used to…they all just creep into my brain and it’s hard to get past that negativity. I guess I got so used to people telling me as of late that “I can’t” do this and “I shouldn’t” do this…and those little bits of negative talk are really starting to take hold in my brain. The fighter inside me has been struggling. I’m starting to hear those “can’ts and “won’ts” and…you know…I’m starting to really believe that any sort of comeback…isn’t going to happen.
This…is it.
For anyone who has suffered an athletic injury (or an injury of any sort), you may know what I’m talking about. I get discouraged so easily these days. I go out for a run, and at the slightest inkling of pain, I slow…I stop…I don’t push. I don’t want to be where I was 2 months ago. I don’t want to be able to only lift weights and swim. I don’t love weights or swimming. I love to run. But, right now, it’s hard to love something when most everyone tells you that you’re going about it wrong or that you just shouldn’t be doing it. I should be running…because I can run. My podiatrist gave me permission to run. I’m building into it via an altered training plan from the NYRR…with much slower paces and much easier distances/runs. And I thought I was okay with this…until I was told I wasn’t being smart about my comeback.
Lately, every post I have made has been followed by the simple sentiment of “#comebackkid.” Because, honestly, this injury warrants its own hashtag. In a sense, it’s not even an injury. My foot became inflamed. No stress fracture, like originally thought…just pain. Enough that I couldn’t run and sometimes could hardly walk. I’ve never been off running for that long and it was hard. I felt like I was losing fitness, because any cardio save for laps in the swimming pool was not allowed. I was placed on an anti-inflammatory and after a week…I was told I could resume running. It was painful. Every single run for 30 days was still twinging and hurting. I wasn’t running as fast…or as hard…or even really following the altered plan. I was just…doing some miles. And this past Friday, as my prescription was coming up for refill, I called my podiatrist and told him the prescription wasn’t working. I was still hurting. He gave me samples of a different medicine to try. I started it on Saturday morning.
Saturday morning…
I was meeting up with my friends Matthew, Patrick, and Brant for a 13.1 mile run. Birthday half marathon, woohoo! No medal…just a run. A simple…easy…run. I had purchased new shoes…because so many people said that when they had foot pain, this particular brand, Hoka’s, helped. I wore them out…my feet felt unwieldy and…rather clown-like. I tried to ignore the Bozo-factor and just see if these did anything to help my foot. The four of us set out…and I immediately fell behind. Matthew was gracious enough to stick it out at my pace. By Mile 5, I told him I was ready to stop and call my roommate to come and pick me up…but he talked me through it and in the end…with only one walk break around Mile 11, he got me through all of those miles. Honestly, I couldn’t have finished that run without him. Sweaty hugs followed. I was so glad he was there. I would have been left in the dust by Patrick and Bryant. I’m not there yet. I hope to get there soon.
Saturday morning was heart-wrenching. A half marathon used to be nothing for me. And here I was, struggling to make it. Fighting my own thoughts that were telling me to quit and give up. Two months off from running does take a toll on your fitness…it does. Regardless of how active I managed to be and the cross-training I worked in…it wasn’t the same as running, so running has naturally felt harder as I’ve gotten back into it. I don’t know what it was about Saturday…but the level of accomplishment for running 13.1 miles in 1:51:36 was completely shadowed by the fact that I wasn’t running it as I felt I should be. I felt like I was making excuses. I wasn’t. I was stating facts. I have been injured. I haven’t run for 2 months. I can’t immediately hop into a sub-8 minute pace. But, runners are so numbers oriented. We’re perfectionists. We base so much of our training on those numbers…and the numbers I am now assigned are back to the paces I would have run three years ago…back when I started.
It’s like starting over. And that’s what has been nagging at my mind. I have a marathon coming up…and I’m struggling sometimes with 4 miles. Not because I hurt…nope…because in my mind, because so many times I was told I can’t…I am starting to believe…I can’t. And that’s what hurts the most.
For the record, I came out of the run with no foot pain…just a little stiffness in the quads. I figured that was from new shoes. I took all of Sunday off to recover (no gym either!). And this morning, I laced up the Hoka’s again for my three mile easy paced run. By Mile 2, I was done with them. I love the soft landing they provide and the stability…but they feel so heavy and my steps and stride and feet feel so clunky. I paused my run, went up to my apartment and switched into my Newton’s for the final mile. I felt so much better, lighter, and confident in those. So…guess what’s getting sent back for a full refund?
Bye, bye Hoka’s.
My goals have definitely shifted since this injury, but that doesn’t mean that I’m okay with them. I’m disappointed…naturally. And I think it’s only right that I feel this way. I’m upset at my body…for not only not being in marathon shape, but for betraying me like it did. I’m mad at myself…because, despite having done everything right…everything I was supposed to be doing…I, mentally, am a mess. Physically, I’m getting there. Well…some days are better than others. But…it’s a slow process. But those voices…the ones that have told me all this time that I can’t and that I shouldn’t…they’re winning. The proof came in my last two runs. I’ve tried to shake it off, but when I can feel tears in my eyes, not due to pain, but due to that little voice in my head now echoing those can’ts and shouldn’ts…I realize…they’ve won. And all those negative thoughts are now my own. I can ignore the voices of others to a point…but when their words start to become my own…confidence takes a nosedive…and I start questioning my own abilities.
Comebacks are hard…but I’m a fighter. Right now, the important thing is to put one foot in front of the other. The perfectionist in me…that competitive voice…it looks at my numbers and I immediately want to compare them to where I was last year…and I know I can’t. But I do. Like I said…runner’s live their lives off of numbers and statistics. It’s hard to separate myself from the statistics I recorded last year. It’s hard not to compare myself, not just to where I was last year, but to others, who are getting stronger and faster…where as I feel 3 easy miles at a pace that would have been easy a year ago…now feels hard. It messes with the mind…which then messes with the confidence…which then only leads me down this path of depression and low self-esteem. And a definite drop in confidence.
A change in goals doesn’t always make for a happy runner. But it’s necessary. The hard part is wrapping my brain around it…and understanding that it’s time to focus on myself…not on others. It’s time to tune out the negativity…from other people, but mostly from myself. It’s time to take charge…and just focus on building myself back up. The confidence will come back…as will the speed. Patience and positivity is what I need most. Because it will help get me back on track…even if that road is a little rocky along the way.
It’s International Talk Like A Pirate Day, mateys!!
But…it also means that it’s my birthday. I didn’t have anything planned for the occasion…except having my friend Jenn come down for the weekend. Which is awesome, because she’s one of my favorite peeps. Travel buddy…race spectator…professional cheer section! WOOT!
And it was a good day. After work, we all went out for Indian food at Shalimar (my favorite!) and then to the mall. Cathy bought me a new wallet and some socks for an upcoming race outfit. The socks…the wallet is for everyday use, obviously.
And then, we came back to the apartment…stuffed ourselves with slices of my gluten-free and vegan birthday cake, made by Annie May’s Sweet Café, in Louisville, Kentucky. And we settled in for a little while to chat, get caught up, watch some crazy stuff on television, and then get some rest. Long day for the traveler and an early morning in the works for the morning.
I couldn’t have asked for a better day. This morning, I was gifted with a gift card to purchase either the Frozen Soundtrack or Sherlock Series 3 on Blu-Ray. I got some great new running gear from Amanda. I went to work with goodies for the office and they were devoured. Cathy’s mom brought me balloons and roses and a watermelon! Then, home for food. The waiter at Shalimar was taking our order, and I got my favorite, the Broccoli Masala. And he said, “It’s your birthday…you should do something different!” But I said it was my favorite…so that is what I wanted. After the meal, they brought out complimentary rice pudding for the three of us. I love that place SO much. As you can tell…I go there often! Then shopping. Then cake. Now relaxing. Oh yeah…good day!!
Speaking of cake…check out what Cathy and Annie May’s Sweet Café worked up for me:
Birthday Cake
Which brings me to the next order of business…
On September 12, 2014, at exactly 10:00 a.m., I was able to register for my chance to run the Boston Marathon. On Sunday night…I was pulling up my e-mail on my phone and…there it was…
Boston Marathon Confirmation of Entry Acceptance
OFFICIAL!!
I am so excited. And with the recent injury, I am really just focusing on recovery, regaining strength, and just getting myself to Boston in perfect marathon shape and form. I know it can happen. I have to break some of the habits I have fallen into since the injury. When this e-mail came over, I would have jumped up and down…if I could. But my foot wouldn’t allow that. So, I did this happy dance thing, and Cathy just ignored me. Law & Order was on. I finally said, “Ask me why I’m dancing…just ask me why I’m dancing.” Much screaming and excitement followed.
I still feel that way. So, for now…my plan for NYC is to take in the experience, but not race it. I just can’t. Not with that amount of time off. Not with my foot still bugging me when I take a step. My podiatrist changed up my prescription today…so hopefully something will get better.
Me, holding my niece Baileigh Kendyl, and with my nephew Chace Tanner
It’s Sunday morning, August 31, 2014.
I should be out on the course, probably around Mile 16-ish of the Tupelo Marathon in Tupelo, Mississippi.
I should be logging a finish this morning…in just slightly over an hour from the typing of these words…of my 7th marathon this year.
I should be tired, slogging through heat and rain (it is SO raining there), my mind focused on that finish line.
I should be putting all my hard training over the past few weeks to work to accomplish a goal that I signed up for and got myself in shape for, right?
*crickets chirp*
Well…I’m not.
I’m not doing any of those things.
Instead, I am sitting in my room at my parents home in Birmingham, Alabama. I have an exercise mat spread out on the floor and a cold bottle of water at my side. I just completed a set of some of the things that have been my day-in-and-day-out for the past month and a half. Push-ups, crunches, squats, and some ab toning exercises.
My feet are currently “booted” (it’s the best description) in KT Tape that is being used to stabilize my ankles and my feet in general. I sort of look like I have racing strips up my calf muscles. It’s not a good look. It definitely doesn’t go well with dress clothes. But it will surely be the look of next spring. Just…take my word on this, okay? HA!
Why?
No one and no test can tell me. Honestly. I have become yet another marvel to my podiatrist and the radiologist. But I am, as usual, getting ahead of myself. Let me rewind to a month and a half ago. It was a warm Tuesday morning, around 3:30 a.m. My NYC training plan called for 6×800 meters with a 45 second break in between each one. I have no track nearby so I was going to just have to do circles in my parking lot and just really watch the distance on my Garmin. I hated that…but you do what you have to with the circumstances you are given. In my case – no track…dark parking lot…3:30 a.m. darkness…and a whole lot of hate for speed work. Let’s face it…these short legs are made for distance and endurance…not so much speed! But…I set to it, doing my 1 mile warm up and then hitting those intervals the best I could manage and being diligent about that 45 second recovery. I stopped for water on a couple, because hydration is important to me. Anyway…I finished those up and went on my cool down mileage to round it off to the planned 7 miles on my plan.
And that’s where it all went to hell.
I was finishing up the last mile, not even a quarter of a mile through it when my foot started to hurt. It hurt so bad that I could hardly run a few steps without just pain. My immediate reaction was to stop running. So…I did. I think I differ from a lot of my running compatriots in that when something hurts…I don’t “push through the pain” nor “push myself to the point of puking.” I stop. I can’t fathom pushing through something and damaging my body further or worse. My brain can’t wrap around that mentality. I hobbled home, feeling defeated and more than a little worried about my foot. That morning, I called my podiatrist’s office and tried to get in for an appointment. The earliest one they had was 2 weeks away. I explained my problem and they said that if they had something open up sooner, they’d call me. I sighed…and said okay. That afternoon, they called and said they had a 9:00 a.m. opening on the following morning…Wednesday. I took it.
Long story made as short as I can manage…
The initial X-Rays showed what he called my foot “thinking” about fracturing. So it wasn’t quite a stress fracture…but the foot was right on the cusp. I was ordered into 2 weeks of no running, no spinning, no fierce walking…just upper body weights and swimming. I was going to get fitted for some new orthodics as well…ones that were more flexible so I would be okay running in them. My feet had changed. My orthodics no longer fit my feet right. It was causing problems. Big problems, apparently. I took my 2 week running/gym/spinning hiatus with much misery and complaining. I bought some hand weights and a kettlebell. I went to the gym every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning at 5 a.m. to swim laps in the pool. I’m not a strong nor a fast swimmer so my goal began to be to at least get in 1800 yards…or 1 mile…which would take me between 50-55 minutes. Told you…I’m slow. After my required time off, I went back in and had my feet molded for the new orthodics and X-rayed again. The foot looked much better and I was given the okay to start running again…only 2-4 miles. If it hurt…I was to back off. I could start that the very next day. It was a Thursday. That morning, I got out of bed and donned my running and reflective gear. The foot was still sore, but I chocked that up to being because of being poked and prodded by the podiatrist the previous afternoon. I put on my Adidas Boosts…I took in some water…and I turned on my Garmin, heading down my apartment stairs to get in 2 miles. I’d start small and build. I went about 3 steps before I started to feel pain. I thought maybe I was stiff and managed to get to the very end of my parking lot before pausing my Garmin and turning around. Maybe I should put my orthodics in. Second verse…same as the first. Maybe if I wore my Newtons instead. Third time wasn’t the charm. I managed 1/4 mile of excruciating pain. Feeling defeated and deflated…I hobbled back inside, cried, and put on shoes to head to the gym and hit the weight machines. I tried the next few mornings…and couldn’t get more than 10 steps. After a week of this and no improvement, I called my podiatrist back. They had me come in on that Thursday in the morning. Another round of X-Rays were taken…and again showed nothing. So, my podiatrist taped up my feet again and scheduled me for an MRI. They were hoping for that very same day…but it wasn’t happening until Monday. Another weekend of nothing but swimming and weights. I was not happy.
MRI day came and went and that following Thursday, I was back in my podiatrist’s office to get the results. The MRI showed nothing…nothing at all. No fractures. Nothing wrong with the bones. When my podiatrist got the results on Tuesday, he phoned the radiologist and they went slide-by-slide through my MRI because, as he said to the radiologist…”I have an elite runner who wants to get back to running yesterday and she can’t because her foot is hurting. We need to find out why.” And so…after 25 minutes working together, they decided it had to do with the fluid in my foot and the inflammation it was causing. Joy. I was delegated to more rest. Another week of no running and this new tape job. I was prescribed Celebrex, which my insurance refused, so 2 days later, that mess got resolved and I was put on Mobic for the inflammation. I was told I could walk, I could bike, I could (finally) get back on the eliptical, I could swim, I could do more upper body weights…just no running for a week. I went back to spin class that Friday. It was tough. I feel out of shape. I feel that time off did mess with my fitness despite doing my best to stay active with slower than a snail swimming and weights. I could tell I hadn’t been sweating it out or doing cardio. I was happy to be there. I was happy to be sweating again.
Tupelo Marathon was this coming weekend. On Friday…I ran 1 mile. Slowly. With minimal pain. It was there…it just wasn’t the stabby ow ow ow I am going to die pain I had been feeling. It was slow…and steady…and just a mile.
I had already resigned myself to the fact that I was going to DNS my second marathon this year (the first one being Mercedes back in February due to a severely sprained ankle). There was no way that Tupelo could happen. I was a month and a half without running. No. I wasn’t going to go from 0 miles to 26.2 miles when a mile was still not perfect.
But I also believe things happen for a reason…
On Wednesday, August 27, 2014, at 1:37 p.m., my sister welcomed into the world a beautiful baby girl, Baileigh Kendyl, weighing 8 pounds 2 ounces. She was beautiful and perfect. And now that I didn’t have a commitment to be in Tupelo to run a marathon…I could slip down to Birmingham, Alabama and see my niece. For the first time, hold one of the new babies in my family (this makes my sister’s 3rd child, my brother has 4)…when they were brand new. The best part was…only my parents knew I was coming down. I wanted to surprise my sister. I left Friday after work, the same day she and Baileigh were released from the hospital to go home. I got to my parents house late…due to Labor Day traffic…around 11 p.m.
The following day, after lunch, I was walking into my sister’s house…no one having a clue I was there…and getting to meet my beautiful and perfect new niece. It topped packet pickup and trying to find somewhere to get a gluten-free pizza in Tupelo, Mississippi…any day. I was smitten and in love with the newest addition to the family for sure. And every chance I had to hold her…I totally did.
I paused there, without you knowing it (which, now you do…because I told on myself) to go out for another slow run. I managed 2 miles here in my parents neighborhood, but I’m feeling it. I definitely feel like I’ve lost a good amount of fitness with the 1.5 month hiatus I’ve been on. My foot still twinges…though not debilitating when it does so. And I fight for each step more than I normally would have to. If I feel pain…yes…I stop. I couldn’t fathom risking further or worse injury to myself and pressing on. Do I hate that a majority of my friends are running half marathons, marathons, or some semblance of miles this weekend…and I can barely squeak in 2 miles? Yep. I don’t hate them for it…I hate my body for breaking on me. I hate that I can’t be joining them on these hard-earned and fought for miles.
But…my 26.2 miles was not meant to be. I was needed in Birmingham. I was supposed to be here…with my family…as we welcome Baileigh Kendyl to our humble, fun, and quirky lives. I was meant to be loved on and spend a lot of time with my nephew, Chace, who usually shies away from me…because I’m hardly here. He was all about me yesterday and I ate up every moment he spent clinging to me. I love him so much. I loved seeing Landon…ride his bike, play games, and watch the Auburn game. I loved talking with him…and getting hugs and love. Yes…this was way better than any race…even if the medal at the end was pretty stellar.
What this brings me to is this…
LIFE IS A MARATHON.
It’s not meant to be a sprint. So…slow down. It’s okay to set high standards and goals, but understand these don’t have to be accomplished right away. Give it and yourself time. You’re in it for the long run. Things shouldn’t and won’t happen right away. There will be obstacles and setbacks…but they will only make you stronger. Strive for greatness, but be prepared to fall and to fail. Just don’t give up. Aim for the stars…you will eventually get there. Pace yourself. Don’t overtrain. Don’t overdo it. Be bold. Be daring. But be kind to yourself. Don’t miss out on special moments and amazing events because of a training schedule or a diet or a race. You can hit a reset the next day…or the day after that. Keep your eye on the prize, but also your mind and heart on the important things in life. Know that change doesn’t happen overnight. And, yes…life is hard. It’s meant to be hard. We wouldn’t grow or overcome anything if it were easy. So…take it one step at a time. You come into this life a perfect baby…but you leave it with imperfections. It’s okay to have flaws and to fall short…never give up…never stop trying…but try within reason and don’t miss out on life’s most precious moments. Slow down. Take it in. Breathe. Stretch. And love. Love life and everything you do in life. Don’t obsess and don’t try to control the outcomes of things you have no control over. If it’s meant to be, it will be. If not…you will always have other opportunities. The finish line, regardless of how quickly you get there, is always right ahead. You aren’t finished yet…because in the marathon of life…you have a lot more than 26.2 miles. But each step…each breath…each time you push yourself just a little more…you get a little stronger…and a little better. And when you do reach that finish line, you’ll know it was all worth it in the end. Even if it took longer than you thought.
Welcome to my world, Baileigh Kendyl Morrow. I can’t wait to take your hand and guide you through some of it with me.
The Celiathlete 