I decided in October that I wanted to start running again. And that I wanted to train for something. A full marathon seemed out of reach and I didn't want to commit to making the time necessary for training for something like that. But a half marathon sounded do-able. After all, my favorite running route in high school was 6 miles long. A half marathon is not more more than twice that. Do-able. And then I started running, and my body (while not out of shape thanks to Body and Soul) quickly reminded me that it hadn't run in 5 years. And 5 years ago I was regularly running just 3 miles. Not 6. And high school was a long time ago.
The runs at the beginning of my training were hard. I was getting back into shape. I was dealing with runners knee and a tight IT band. I was only running not even 1/4 of the distance that I needed to run. 13.1 miles seemed impossible. I decided I must be crazy. But slowly I started to see my fitness improve. I began to run a bit faster.
The runs in the middle of my training were hard. I was increasing my mileage to distances I had never run before. (Farthest run being ~ 6 miles). I was still dealing with knee issues. I really enjoyed the fact that every time I ran another Long Run, I was setting a new personal record for longest distance I'd ever run. And then I had a fabulous 8 mile run. The weather was great. I felt great. I ran fast (for me).
The runs at the end of my training were hard. I was now running so far on my long runs I had to carry water and Gu (carb gels) to fuel while running. After running so long, you literally have no calories left in your system left to burn. I had some brutal long runs. My 10 miler I forgot to bring Gu with me. I ran on empty and it took me a long time to recover. I ran two 12+ mile runs that made me want to die. On the second I seriously considered calling Kyle to come and get me. I hobbled around for days after running that far. After running 12 miles twice, I knew I could run a 1/2 marathon. But I KNEW I'd hate every minute of it. In the middle of that I ran a 11 miler on trails. I fueled. I didn't want to die, I didn't feel good, but I didn't want to die. For the first time 1/2 marathon seemed possible. Then last week I had a mid week run that I killed. The "runners high" that had been eluding me for the past several weeks had made a return. Then I ran a 12 miler last Saturday. It was exhausting, like always. But I had figured out what to eat before a long run. I ran a great (for me) average pace. For 12 miles. And I had a runners high that lasted for days. And I know that I can run 13.1 miles. And I know that it could be fun. We shall see what Sunday holds.
I am proud of myself for doing all this training and making a goal and following through and working to achieve it. (Luke is sick, so this Sundays race may not happen, but I WILL run one).
Stats:
I trained for 20 weeks. Had 60 scheduled runs. I missed 10 or so of them due to knee issues/traveling/wisdom teeth. I have run a total of 272.56 miles since October 6th.
6 of those miles are totally mine. Kyle was gone and I ran on the treadmill after putting the littles to bed. 266 miles are because Kyle is supportive of me. He wants me to achieve my goal and he sacrifices his sleep/work time/leisure time/rearranges his schedule so that I can go run around and then come home and whine to him. He gives Luke and Leta breakfast every morning so I can sleep as late as possible and walk in the door just in time to feed Max. He feeds all 3 lunch every Saturday and deals with getting them down for their naps. This is easily the busiest 1.5 hours of my day, and always leaves me counting the minutes until nap time. So I can fit in a long run.
So. Come Sunday 1/4 of a mile of 13.1 miles are mine. The rest are Kyle's. Thanks Kyle!!!!!
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