If you had asked me a year ago, I would have claimed that there was no way you could ever get me to participate in a half marathon. 13.1 miles? Yuck. Euw. What's the point?
Well, two days ago I completed one.
I am having a lot of mixed emotions. I am mildly glad that it is done, but mostly I feel disappointed, angry, ashamed, and I'm actually a bit embarrassed to be writing this post. I hope no one reads it. If you can't tell, my pride is quite bruised.
This is a challenge for me...I had always talked about how COOL it would be for me to do a half marathon. I hate running long distance, but this would really push me to the limits. I would train. Perhaps I would even start to like running... and then, I might call myself a runner. So I did it, I signed up to be a runner.
That word. Runner. I feel like so much is attached to this word. It must mean you are in shape. You can run distances that normal people only dream of. You are fast. You are strong. People would look to you in awe when you tell them you just did a quick 6 mile run (or more!). You smile as your feet hit the pavement and you feel the breeze on your cheeks. You are at peace, in a world full of chaos. It would mean you are so many things that you are not, right now.
Okay, so that was cheesy, but do you get what I'm saying?
It's a lie. And I fell for it.
I ran a half marathon, and afterwards I didn't feel like a runner. I am not impressed with myself. I have all sorts of excuses as to why my run didn't go as I had wanted it to. However, that's all they are - excuses. Now they are just little bits and pieces of irrelevant information. I'm not really a competitive person... I used to be, back before I had hips and could eat whatever I wanted without ever feeling guilty, so I normally participate in events like this for some social aspect (prime example - Ragnar). Therefore, finishing a half marathon, by myself, is a very big deal for me.
At the finish line, the 2400 or so half marathon participants were happy to be done, smiling and taking selfies with loved ones, presumably. Actually, I think most of them were already gone, off to lunch, or dipping in an ice bath, who knows. Fantastic. I didn't see anyone I knew in the crowd, I'm not sure what I expected... maybe just a little bit of that feel good, look what I did feeling, but it wasn't there. I filled my water and headed to my car. I really just wanted someone to hug, I suppose. Then, I ran into a friend who had run the 5k earlier. Yeay! We briefly talk about some of the reasons why I was disappointed, and eventually, she tells me "You just need to get out of your head". And I got my hug. I was invited to join her and friends for pizza, but declined for two reasons. 1) I was starving and chances are good there was nothing Whole30 in that restaurant, and 2) I wanted to go home and mope.I felt alone.
Pathetic?
Yes, pathetic.
Jason was out of town until later in the evening. He knew I was upset. After he got home, he made me a fabulous (and Whole30) dinner and asked me who I was comparing my performance to. Dangit Jason, there you go again. He made a good point, I achieved my personal best half marathon time on Sunday.
So, why am I upset? I am so petty. I had two ridiculous things going on here. First, I felt awful and wasted precious moments making myself miserable by agonizing over my terrible time. Terrible compared to WHO? I kept telling people I didn't care about time and that I just wanted to cross that finish line anyways... turns out my mind and my heart had some fundamental differences on this one...darn that heart, trying to find new ways to deceive me! The logical part of me was only expecting to do as well as I trained to (duh). Does my pride always make me so pitiful?
Second, while I had initially planned to do this run with Jason and friends, I eventually signed up (with full knowledge that they may not) because I decided to run this for ME. I decided to set a goal and finish a half marathon. I did have a fabulous friend cheer me on just after the 5 mile mark, and this was the highlight of my run. I wasn't expecting her to be there, because I did not ask anyone to be there. While I was running I heard plenty of cheers from bystanders (and even gave a few high fives), but it turns out I really wanted someone to be there FOR ME. I cannot say how much my friend at mile 5 meant to me...seriously, if you know someone doing an event like this go out and show them some love! At the finish line, I just so desperately wanted someone there to be proud of and celebrate with me. I should have gone out to lunch and ate the darn pizza.
Why do I care so much about trying to impress other people? It's not like I ever had any chance of being a real competitor. I got off the couch, made it to the start line, and didn't collapse at any point during the 13.1 miles. I kept going. This is awesome! I finished a half marathon! If I do another (as if anyone could ever convince me of such a thing, ha!) I would definitely do it a bit differently (Jason claims I'll be training for another in no time at all, and he is probably right). I would like to run with someone, and have a training partner. Whether they run at the wildly slow pace my legs can muster or race ahead of me, we can at least meet in the beer garden and take our own celebratory selfies.
The half marathon may not be my forte. I might find that a 10k hits my sweet spot, or maybe even that is beyond what I consider 'fun' running. And that's okay. Regardless, I still plan to put on my compression sleeves and take a spin in my running shoes, because even at my happy 4 miles, I am a runner.
You do not need to be fast. You don't need to be strong. You don't have to be ashamed by the small distances you put on your shoes. You don't have to be embarrassed and justify yourself. 1/2 mile to start, I dare you. All you need is to go out and DO IT. Nike nailed it on this one.
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