I ran a half-marathon.
Almost a month ago, but that's neither here nor there.
The entire time I was running, I kept thinking about the epic blog post I would write
I've been in a complete state of shock since about mile 9.
I never ever had any desire to run a half-marathon.
In fact, I distinctively remember having a conversation in February with one of the girls I teach with about our upcoming 5K Glow Run that went a little something like this...
"It won't be that bad...it's not like it's something stupid like a half-marathon. Who would ever willingly run 13.1 miles anyway?"
Foot meet mouth.
Apparently, I am not that person who willingly runs 13.1 miles.
Well, the one who ran 13.1 miles.
I honestly don't know if it'll ever happen again.
I didn't train the way I was supposed to at. all.
And I guess technically, my time suffered because of that.
But really, who the eff cares?
By race day, I had one goal - to finish.
Well that, and not keel over and die.
Once I started running I knew I wanted to make it to at least mile 6 without stopping. A 10K. Totally doable, even with my lack of training.
Mile 6 came and went and I was still feeling pretty good so I kept going.
And going and going.
By about mile 10 I felt like dying forreal and started taking short little walking breaks.
At mile 11 I got scared I was getting lost. So I picked up the pace a little.
And by mile 12 I was almost tears. I had one mile left and knew I could do anything for one mile.
Little did I know, it was THEE longest mile of my life. That last stretch to the finish line felt like the never-ending Rainbow Race on Mario Kart.
Not only was Robbie waiting for me at the finish line, my mom was there with craisons. And let me tell you what. I have never loved craisons so good as I did in that moment.
I was also greeted with a big, shiny medal.
Now, usually I am not a fan of participation medals/trophies/awards/etc.
The winner gets a medal.
Everyone else gets the satisfaction of finishing.
Personally, I think it's doing our kids an injustice by not keeping scores at sporting events and not letting anyone "lose". It's sending the completely wrong message.
However, the satisfaction I felt of finishing was HUGE but I was equally as proud of having that medal. #sorrynotsorry
After meeting up with some other friends who also ran the race, cashing in my beer tickets (which I thought I lost mid-run...yipes), and purchasing my obnoxious 13.1 car sticker, I devoured a huge hot hamburger plate (at 10:30AM mind you) and went home to take a 5 hour nap. I was exhausted.
My legs were screaming at me that night and it was slow moving on Sunday but by Monday I felt almost back to normal. A little sore but nothing terrible.
Finishing that race was quite possibly one of the most out of body things I've ever done.
It's still surreal to think that I actually ran 13.1 miles.
My final time was 2:22 which was slooooooow but steady.
8 months ago I was no where near "a runner".
It still even feels strange calling myself "a runner" and the fact that I haven't been running since the race probably supports that feeling.
But in a short amount of time, I set a goal, pushed myself completely out of my comfort zone, and accomplished that goal.