Thoughts From The Back Of The Pack

I went into Sunday not knowing what to expect.

I was hopeful.

I was anxious.

I was excited.

The race started, I turned my music on and off I went...

Smiling.

Believing.

Thankful.

Talking to God with every step...

Thanking Him.

Praising Him.

Praying for friends.

I decided not to look at my watch.  To run on feel.  The word "believe" kept playing through my head.  I started a bit behind the 4 hour pacer and at some point, I passed him.  I thought about slowing down, about playing it safe and then I heard, "believe".  So, I kept going.

Singing.

Smiling.

Praising.

Praying.

Then, mile 9, just after the hill at mile 8, my legs started complaining.

Believe...

Mile 10, my Ipod stopped.  It was time to GU.  I made it down a little hill and pulled to the side.  My Ipod was dead.  The songs making me smile were gone.  I choked down my GU and carried on.

It was painful. 

I wanted to be done.

I could not imagine finishing this race with the way my legs were feeling.

Walk.

Run.

Ugly shuffle.

Done.

I didn't have my phone with me so, at one point near mile 13 I asked a spectator if I could use their phone.  I called Marnee and let her know where I was.  They were 2 miles away.  She said, "we'll see you really soon, we're only 2 miles away."  I said, "yeah, I'll just sprint to you.  I'll be right there."  Hear the sarcasm?

I was ticked.

Not at her.

At my legs.

Mile 15.  Marnee, Ashley, Devon and Ryan all give me hugs.

I'm done.

Marnee says, "we'll just keep going until you can't take another step."

The comments she heard leave my mouth...

"This is stupid."

"This is not fun."

"This is not my happy."

"This sucks."

"I want to get in the car."

Her words...

"You've got this."

"You're amazing."

"You can do it."

Me...

"I don't want to."

"I hurt"

At some point, I talk to my sweet husband.  He lets me know that whatever I decide to do is okay.  No one will be disappointed if I quit.  He loves me.  He encourages me. 

I keep walking.

I'm mad.

My legs cramp in waves.  Much like labor, the pain comes and goes.  We shuffled, we walked.  I would feel my legs start to cramp.  My muscles would tighten, I would cry.  I would stop.  I sat on the grass.  The entire time wanting to be done...

Thinking of ways to escape.

Embarrassed.

Hurting.

Done.

Along the path, we can see the 1/2 Marathoners.  They have just passed mile 12.  They are less than a mile from the finish.  Marnee and I are still a long way from the finish.  She tells me I have a choice.  I can choose to be done.  Only a mile away.  Or, we can keep going.  I stop.  I think.  I keep going.  I feel like I'm going to puke.  My legs are cramping.  Her phone rings as I bend over to heave...

She's on the phone.

I'm hurting.

I start walking back to the fork in the road.

I quit.

Then, I get ticked.

Embarrassed.

I turn around.

I end up adding 1/4 mile to my race.

I keep going.

I tell Marnee, "I'd rather quit than suck.  I don't want to do this."  Through tears, "I hurt so bad!"

We keep going.

Me hurting.

Her encouraging... 

In her khaki shorts. 

Her spectator clothes. 

She's right beside me. 

She tells me I'm amazing.

I say, "yeah, uh huh."

All the while, thinking I'm far from amazing.

Walking.

Shuffling.

Stopping.

Cramping.

Crying.

Feeling muscles hurt in my legs that I've never felt before.

The top of this foot.

The heel of that foot.

My glutes.

My quads.

Thankful for the compression socks I bought at the expo as they kept my calves feeling better than the rest of me.

We encouraged those that we passed and those that passed us.

They responded the same way I did.

At one point I told a guy, "hey, you don't get to respond like that!  That's my response!  There's only room for so much negativity on this course!!"

He smiled.  He laughed.  We all kept going.

I formed a plan and shared it with Marnee.

When Harmony finished, I want Ryan to come get us.  I'm done.  The only way I will finish is if we only have 2 miles left.  I can suck it up for 2 miles.

"Are you sure??"

Yes.

I'm done.

This is stupid.

Marnee calls Devon and tells her I'm done.  She tells her the plan.  Maybe she tells Ashley too.  A bit later, Marnee's phone rings.  I hear...

"Yep.  Okay.  Uh huh."

"Who was that?"

"Ashely"

"What did she say?"

"Um...  Harmony is boycotting your escape plan."

"Excuse me???  What did you just say??"

I stared at her in disbelief.  Her words made no sense.

"Harmony isn't letting you quit."

I.  Was.  Ticked.

We kept going.

Marnee encouraging me even as her body ached.

I cried.

I hurt.

I just wanted to be done.

We kept going.

As we shuffled along I realized something.

Everyone we encouraged gave the same response...

Ticked.

Hopeless.

Hurting.

I told Marnee, "you know what's so crazy about being here.  THIS was no ones goal.  I can guarantee that these people did not enter this race with this pace in mind.  THIS is not what they wanted."

After the bombings in Boston, I heard one of the commentators say that the "stragglers", the "slower, recreational runners", were the ones that did not finish.  I was ticked when I heard those statements.  Ticked because, clearly the commentator had no clue what goes into qualifying for Boston.  Clearly, he had never ran a marathon.  Please don't disregard us "slower recreational runners." 

It's hard work in the front of the pack.  And, quite honestly, it's hard work in the back too.

26.2 miles is still 26.2 miles.

Even if you're doing the ugly shuffle.

Somehow, even though I quit, my friends got me across that finish line.  It was not my doing.  I was carried, pulled and shoved along that course. 

I quit.

My friends didn't.

God didn't.

As we crossed that finish line, Marnee and I hugged and sobbed.  We got our medals and promptly collapsed on the ground in the finishers area.  I laughed as I realized we must have been quite the sight.  All the volunteers could see was a 5:10 half marathon finisher embracing a 5:10 marathon finisher.  Neither of which are stellar performances.  And yet, we were hugging and crying as if we had won the race.

During the painful steps to the finish line Marnee told me I should talk to my Dr. about my nutrition.  Since finding out that I'm intolerant of all fruits except tomatoes, rhubarb and melons, it's been hard fueling my body properly.  My dear friend had done some research after my last, painful, long run and said that everything pointed to low potassium.  I had started taking a supplement, but she suspects it still was not enough.  I told her that if I ever decided to try 26.2 again I would talk to my Dr.  At the time, I wasn't sure I would ever want to try again.

Less than 24 hours later, I was already thinking about next time.

I still cannot embrace any positive comments on this one.  I cannot accept the, "I'm proud of you" or "you're amazing."  Because, quite honestly, I quit.  I did not get to the finish because it was what I wanted.

My friends are amazing.

God is amazing.

I'm a quitter.

It hurts.

However, I am beyond thankful for the weekend.  For some amazing moments that God blessed me with.  For amazing friends that God, in all His goodness, has blessed me with.  For the opportunity to even toe that line in the first place.

I keep wanting to press rewind on the weekend.  To linger in those moments a while longer.  I don't want the pain back (quite frankly, my legs are still screaming at me!) but I want the moments.

For now, the moments sit on my heart.  Filling my cup.  Making me smile.  Moments that take my breath away and bring tears of thankfulness to my eyes.

I cannot believe that even in my moments of being a complete brat, God still chooses to bless me.

He amazes me.

I cannot comprehend it.

God is good even when I am not.

Now, I will rest.  I will look at my nutrition.  I will heal my body.  I will take deep breaths with my Heavenly Papa.  I will smile and be thankful for friends who hold me up and even drag me along.  And, I'll remember those moments in the back of the pack and remember that no matter the pace 26.2 miles is still 26.2 miles.

Flip Flop

It's funny how a marathon in which I have zero expectations is causing my belly such fits...

I have no dreams of a PR (okay, maybe a small one in which the Lord gives me superhero powers and has me bounding, with a smile, across the finish line with a Boston Qualifier)

I have no fear of being sucktastic (I already know that as long am I'm in my "happy" place, I won't suck)

I know that even if I have to do the "ugly shuffle" I can still cross that finish line.

I know that I'm going to have amazing friends cheering from the sidelines and equally amazing ones running the race as well.

I know it's going to be a wonderful weekend full of blessings.

And yet, my belly flip flops.

I think it's the unexpected.

I've read through old posts with a smile and with each post my heart rate slows a bit.  My belly calms a bit and I'm reminded of all the ways that God has blessed me.

I want to tuck it all in my "pocket" for race day.

I think that's it.

I'm worried I'll forget.

That the pain will come and my mind will spiral and I won't remember.

I'm worried I'll get so focused on the pain that I'll forget this...

And this...

And this...

And this

So, I want to tuck it in my "pocket".

I want to focus on the good... 

The blessings...

The gifts...

I want to focus on praying for Harmony and so many others.

I don't know when I'll run another marathon.  I know that I will.  I know that it won't be soon.  This is my one shot for the year and I want to be sure to savor every single moment.

That's it.

My anxiety.  This flip and this flop all boils down to one thing.

I don't want to miss it.

I don't want to miss the awesomeness that God has in store.

Deep breath...

Better now...

God's got this.

Sweet Surprises

Yesterday, was a sweet surprise...

Where my legs were light...

Feet barely touching the ground...

 A smile on my face...

A new route taken...

New hills to conquer...

Effortless miles...

Not watching the clock...

No thoughts of, "I quit" or "I don't want to"...

My last long run before Eugene...

Not caring what the "plan" said...

Just wanting to have fun...

Smiling...

Breathing...

A new friend to run with...

A friend that said as we parted ways, "I would love to run with you again!  You have a great pace!  Your legs are strong!!"  This, from a girl that averages 7:45-8:30 miles.  This, from a girl that doesn't even know the story of my legs...

8 miles at an 8:32 average...

1 mile at 8:10...

1 at 8:12...

Where did that come from?

Peace...

Thankful...

Fun...

Refreshing...

Blessing from God.

You Always Have To Get Back Up

"Rest and get back up.  You always have to get back up.  I am doing an ugly slow shuffle...  Join me"

 

On Friday, I headed out to run my final 20 miler before the Eugene Marathon.  I was excited, I had the fuel that I was hopeful would get me through, the weather was perfect.  However, at 8 miles in, I was ready to take the short cut home and finish at 11.  I heard my phone beep and I looked to see a text from a dear friend. 

 

H:  "10 miles and have to turn around and run home.  Prayers..."

 

I called her immediately and told her I had a case of the "I don't want to's"

 

However, I would finish for her.  I would finish with her.  We may be miles apart, but together, we would do this...  rather, she would drag me to the finish :)

 

At 10 miles in I sent her this...

 

Me:  "Standing at mile 10.  Not wanting to swallow my fuel.  Makes me gag thinking about it.  Mental game for sure..."

 

H:  "You can do it.  Envisioning your strong legs to get me through.  You got this."

 

Me:  "You're the only reason I'm doing this.  I was so excited for this run and now, my head is just not in it.  Next ten will be pounded out for you.  Love you!  You're almost there!"

 

Marnee:  "You are 2 hours in.  Probably have done 14 miles.  Only 6 more!!!  That is two 3-milers.  You got this.  You are strong"

 

Me:  "11.39 in.  Mental.  Don't want to.  Harm texted at 8 miles in.  She was at 10.  Now, it's all for her.  Would love to quit :)"

 

Marnee:  "You will feel great getting 20 in.  You are trained enough, strong enough and dog-gone it.  people like you!  Haha.  You got this.  One mile at a time.  Praying for both you and Harm."

 

For the next few miles, we texted words of encouragement and words sharing the struggle.  And then, after hitting 15 miles.  I called my dear friend Marnee.  Through tears...

 

Me:  "I'm done.  My legs are killing me.  My calves feel like they have tennis balls in them.  I hurt.  I can't do this.  If this was Eugene, I'd still have 11 more.  There's no way I can go 11 more.  I'm so disappointed."

 

She listened.  She told me not to make any decisions right then.  She listened more. 

 

I was done.  I would hobble the last mile home.  I was done.

 

I texted H...

 

Me:  "I'm at 15.  Crying.  Legs are killing me.  Cramped up.  Sitting on a curb.  Disappointed."

 

And then, wise, loving words came from across the miles...

 

H:  "Rest and get back up.  You always have to get back up.  I'm doing an ugly slow shuffle...  Join me"

 

Me:  "Doing my best.  Shuffle on."

 

That was that.  I would shuffle.  I would get it done.  I would not quit.

 

One mile at a time.

 

Me:  "Made it to sixteen.  Going for 17.  Harm told me to join her in the ugly shuffle.  Crap.  I hurt."

 

Marnee:  "I know you do..  You and Harm running the full, ugly or not, will be beautiful to Papa!"

 

Me:  "16.29.  Just swallowed a bug.  Maybe that will help the cramping..."

 

H:  "Proven remedy"

Marnee:  "Depends, what kind of bug? LOL"

 

I shuffled on.  Walking.  Running.  One step at a time. 

 

17.2 I get to my house.  Completely out of water and in pain.  Not done yet.

 

I drink 3/4's of a bottle of Nuun.  Stretch my calves and hop on the treadmill. 

 

I will not quit.

 

Me:  "I'm at 17.2.  Just got home.  Finishing on the treadmill with some Nuun.  Hoping it helps the cramping..."

 

H:  "You can do it"

 

Me:  "That's what you and Marnee say :)"

 

Me:  "18"

 

H:  "Go gadget go!!"

Marnee:  "Two more.  One at a time."

 

Me:  "19"

 

H:  "Almost there"

Marnee:  "One more!!!!!!!!  You can do anything for a mile, right?!?!  Maybe that bug was enough.  So proud of you!!!"

 

Me:  "done"

 

H:  "Hooray"

Marnee:  "Wooooooohoooooo  Amazing!!!  Look what you accomplished.  Big ol' smile on my face."

 

Look what God accomplished...

 

I keep thinking about this run.  About how I would have quit.  God has blessed me with some amazing friends that have just the right words when I need them.  They listen.  They kick my rear.  They encourage.  They make me laugh.  I am blessed.

 

God, Harmony and Marnee carried me through that run.  Rather, God carried me and they gently pushed me.  Knowing my heart.  Knowing my strength.  They pushed, pulled and prodded.

 

I love these words...

 

"Rest and get back up.  You always have to get back up.  I am doing an ugly slow shuffle...  Join me"

 

My heart has been hurting since the Boston Marathon bombings on Monday.  My sweet friend, Devon, finished just 13 minutes earlier.  It all hits so close to home.  I ache for the whole situation.  I am helpless.

 

However, Harmony's words keep playing in my head...

 

"Rest and get back up.  You always have to get back up."

 

It seems that is what the running community is doing.  We're getting up.  Uniting.  Not allowing this evil to consume us.  Groups are being organized across the country - wearing our race shirts, running together, praying together... 

 

From across the county, there isn't much I can do.  But, what I can do is pray.  And that's what I've been doing.  Praying for healing, strength, courage, hope...  Praying!

 

Yesterday, I ran 4.15 miles for 4/15/2013.  I prayed every step.  I will continue to pray.  And, come race day, I will pull strength from Boston and Harmony.  I will push through the pain and the mental games and remind myself to "get back up" when I want to stop.

 

Praying... 

 

Thankful for my Heavenly Papa who is forever faithful...

 

Blessed.