The Half

Three months ago I decided to challenge my body. I signed up for my first half marathon. I have never been a runner. I don't really enjoy it, but this is something I have wanted to do for a long time. I am really slow, running about an 10:30-11 minute mile pace. Part of my training involved participating in a 5K and 10K. I was really good about my training until the second week of July when our family went to Lake Powell. There was no where to run there. Then, my sister got married and I really hurt my knee dancing at her wedding. I took another week off. I had initially signed up for the Park City Half, but was extremely nervous about the elevation. It is also one of the hardest courses because it is up hill the first half. I heard about another half closer to my house on the same day. It claimed to be a "unique downhill course", but there wasn't an elevation map that I could find. Knowing that this would be easier for my little family to get to, I switched.

The night before, I went on a date with my husband. I ate pasta and I was so nervous. When we got home I immediately got ready for bed, but couldn't sleep. Around 2AM I woke up with an intense stomach ache. I thought it might be nerves, but the symptoms were more like food poisoning. Great. My alarm went off at 5AM. I got ready, ate a banana and chugged some water. My stomach hurt too much to eat more than that. I arrived at the staging area and boarded a bus that took us to the mouth of the canyon. I walked around for a bit, used the bathroom and walked to the starting line. The guy with the megaphone said, "the time will be based off the gunshot, so if you think you are going to win head to the front." I stayed back. The race started a little after 7.

There were pacers in bright yellow holding signs with times on them. For the first 5 miles I stayed right behind the pacer holding the 2:00 sign. I felt awesome. I was enjoying the songs on my iPod, but the course was more hilly than straight downhill. I drank water at mile 2 and gatorade at mile 4. I hate gatorade or anything like it, but I knew that I needed it. Then, right after mile 5 I just stopped. I started throwing up and I felt all the blood rush out of my head. I wanted to sit down, but I just kept slowly walking. People were passing me right and left. I felt defeated. I saw the 2:10, 2:15 and then the 2:20 pacer pass me. Sad. I wanted to stick my thumb out and have some one pick me up, I did not see me making any farther. But, I kept walking. In the distance I saw a hill. A HUGE hill. Like pretty much straight up. I thought to myself, "You've got to be kidding me!" At about 7.5 mile my ipod died. Awesome! I finished walking up the hill and saw the mile 8 aid station at the bottom. I ran down it and grabbed water, gatorade, and a gel pack. I consumed all very slowly and by about 8.5 miles I started to feel better. I started running very slowly. I had no motivation and no music, I just wanted to be done.

I started thinking about my kids and my husband who I told to get to the finish line about 2 hours and 30 minutes after the start.

My little boy loves primary songs, he sings Praise to the Man all the time. For some reason that was the only song I could think of in my head. I sang it over and over and pictured him singing it. I made it to the 10 mile aid station and then, mile 12. One more to go. There were no spectators along the course. I turned the corner and saw my cute little family. The kids were still in their jammies, but they never looked more beautiful. My little boy ran out to me and gave me a high-five, I had to stop and kiss him. I could see my baby girl trying to run out to me too. I waved and ran through the finish line. 2 hours 40 minutes...some people can run a full in that amount of time! Sheesh! I really felt disappointed and all I wanted was a Dr. Pepper.

I will NEVER do a full marathon. But, I really want to redeem myself and do another half. I need better shoes and perhaps a running buddy that can push me. Any training tips?