My first Marathon

Hey friends! It is hard to believe that yesterday I completed my very first marathon. Well, until I try to move my legs, and then I definitely remember! Ouch!

Winter started early in Oklahoma this year, so I was really worried about cold conditions. But yesterday morning it was gorgeous, around 45, slightly breezy, and I knew once we started running it would be perfect.

When I had originally signed up to run they asked me my estimated finish time, I think I put something like, 12 hours, since I had absolutely NO IDEA and the farthest I had run at that point was 5 miles, and the whole idea of 26 seemed a little ludicrous. This put me in corral D, and we didn't get to start until 20 minutes after the original gun time.

The first 13 miles were a blur. They had music acts about every half mile, lots of fans cheering and hollering, and I got to see several of my girlfriends who were running in the half. I am positive I had a grin on my face the whole time. After the split and the half marathoners were gone, I got the surprise of my husband, mother in law, and little girls cheering me on the side of the road with signs. I ran up to give both of my ladies a big hug, and I also got to shed my gloves and hat with them, so it was a definite win-win! I still felt great, and had zero pain in my foot, which is amazing since even the day before it was hurting me. (praise God!)

We knew some real bathrooms were coming up instead of the porta-potties with lines a mile long, so we made a quick stop and hit the road again. The next four miles started to get a little tougher, but I was all for it. We did the Center of the Universe Detour at mile 17, and that was really neat, even if it was uphill. I received this coin that is officially my new paperweight for work.

Mile 18 started to get a whole lot tougher. I think it was a mental thing, That was when we officially left downtown for the second time (and downtown being where the finish line is) and headed up to the TU campus. I really didn't like the thought of running in the opposite direction of the finish line. I toughed it out, ate some more fuel, and got hydrated. My pace slowed from around 12 to 13.5, but I made it to TU.

At TU I started alternating between running and walking with a purpose. There are so many hills in that area, that even though I knew about them, i really didn't realize how hard they would be when you are over 20 miles. When I got out of TU and into the neighborhoods, I knew that I was heading south, and would eventually hit 21st in a couple miles, and then it would be a straight shot home. At that point, I think this was mile 21, my whole body was on fire. I never doubted that I wouldn't finish, not for a single second. But I suddenly realized it might take me 7 hours instead of 6.

I pulled out my phone, and read some extremely encouraging texts from my step mom, my husband, and my friend Ann. They were all talking about how they were so proud and excited for me, and how they loved watching me on the "Tracking" app that the marathon provided. (really it was amazing, they could see where I was on the course at any given time) Those words gave me renewed energy, and I was able to speed up a little, but still I wasn't back to the 12 minute pace of pre-18.

When I finally hit 21st street I felt immense relief. There were no more turns, no more back tracking, no more detours. It was a straight shot, that I had run several times in the past, and it was just 3 miles left! I suddenly got renewed energy! And since I had been keeping myself perfectly fueled and hydrated (really i am very proud of myself for this, that was the most important part I think) I suddenly was able to put on a burst of speed and get back to around a 12.5 minute pace. I think this proves that a marathon really is completely mental. That energy was there, I just had to believe in it.
The last 2 miles was very hilly, and since my legs were mostly dead, I walked with a purpose up the hills, and then ran down them. When I saw the sign that said 25, it was just amazing. I mean what's a mile anyway? It's nothing! When I hit mile 26 I had a burst of speed left in me. So yep, i sprinted to the end. That was very important to me. I didn't want to be so depleted that I walked over the finish line. I wanted to finish strong.

All of my Crazy Running Chicks group had stayed after the half for 3 hours to watch me finish. I got to give them high fives down the line and their smiling faces were so beautiful! My step moms tears in her eyes gave me affirmation that I had done something amazing, and I should be proud of it. My husbands encouraging words and lovingly holding my water belt meant so much to me. He became my pack mule, without complaint, standing to the side while I got enveloped in hugs from other people. He is my rock, and I couldn't have spent all those hours of training away from him and my ladies, without his support.

I learned a lot about myself during this entire 5 month journey. I am a strong, determined woman, who goes after what she wants, and achieves it. And after Christmas, I am sure I will start training again for the OKC Marathon in April, and then it's Tough Mudder in October. Life goes forward, and if you let it, it can be amazing.

Oh, and my time? 6 hours 5 minutes to complete 26.5 miles. I rocked it!

Running Amidst Injuries

I have been running for about 14 months now. Really it's pretty surprising that I haven't been injured before now. Last month, on my first ever 14 mile run, I injured something in my leg. My technical term is my "right here's". If you could see me in my office right now, I am running my hand up and down on the side of my leg, about half way down my calf to my ankle. Both legs were hurting, and I believe it was from the cold rainy conditions, probably not stretching well enough, and not getting good and warmed up before i started. So for two weeks I heated and iced, heated and iced, massaged, took it easy, rested, ordered my husband around various chores in the house, and I slowly got better. I still ran of course, but for only 10 instead of 18, and only 2 instead of 5.

Then came the Tulsa Run. From here on out to be renamed Foot Killer Run. I warmed up appropriately, having learned my lesson 3 weeks before. It was just 9 miles. I wasn't worried at all. But the problem: it was FA-REEZING. So i parked probably a good 8 blocks away from the starting line, purposefully, so I could get a good brisk walk/light jog on and get myself all good and ready. I was layered, I was sun blocked (freaky pale), and all was right in my little world. Except for one flaw: I have always been a selective email reader. When I read the email, I saw 5k start time of 8:30, and read it as 15k start time of 8:30. The 15k actually didn't start until 9. So for 30 minutes, I stood around with my friends, blowing on my hands, and letting my muscles get all stiff and cold.

The race was actually great. I had a fun time, ran it way faster than I was expecting (15 minutes faster to be exact) and I probably could have made better time if I wouldn’t have waited with my fellow running friends who didn't carry their own water with them. (for shame) Water stops are total clock time killers. However, somewhere around the 10k mark my left arch started to HURT. As any of you fellow runners know, it takes a lot of hurt for us to stop. Especially a measly 3 miles from the finish line. So I kept going. In fact, the last 2 miles of it was totally uphill, and I sped up through it and finished strong. Once I stopped though, it was some serious limping going on. Then my right arch started to hurt.

Four hours later, after being on my feet all day (we lead extremely busy and active lives) it literally felt like i had stress fractures down the center of both feet. I shouldered on of course, and had a full day Sunday, two church services and a Trunk or Treat after all need my full attention, and I was in some serious pain. I think this was about the time I started to take ibuprofen. I'm an extreme lightweight when it comes to any type of pain pill, and I try to take them sparingly. Regular Tylenol has been known to knock me out for hours.

I went to my doctor who I just love. She's my primary care physician, but also a half marathon runner, triathlete, and biker extraordinaire. We went over every step of Saturday and decided that my muscles were cold, and that I strained my Plantar tendon but that I don’t have full blown Plantar Fashywatever. She sent me to get specific inserts, new shoes, and instructed me on different stretches to help improve my flexibility. By the following Saturday (2 days ago) I felt right as rain. Which is good, since I had 20 miles that needed running.

The first ten miles, doped up on ibuprofen etc., were fantastic. I felt great, legs felt great, beautiful 50 degrees outside, slightly breezy, good company, fun stretches of Tulsa. Life was a happy place. BUT THEN, and of course there has to be a “but then”, or what’s the point of my ramblings?? But then.... my RIGHT arch this time started hurting. And let me tell you what it was H>U>R>T>I>N>G. I'm pretty sure that I should have quit. But there was NO. WAY. I have a marathon in TWO weeks. If I can't muck out 20 miles then How am I supposed to run 26????

So I kept going, kept running, and had to modify my gate. I would run somewhere around a quarter of a mile normally, and then a quarter of a mile favoring my right foot running mostly on the ball. I did this for seven miles. SEVEN. That’s a lot of pain to push through. I kept saying to myself that I couldn’t quit. I had to keep going. Otherwise, what will the last 17 weeks have been worth? Registration has been paid on that marathon. And I’m finishing it, even if I have to be on my hands and knees crawling my way across town. The last 3 miles, knowing it was just a measly three left, I suddenly felt that all was right in the world again. There were fairies and pixie dust and at least a dozen unicorns out there with me.

Surprisingly, I never hit a wall. I prayed heavily for healing, and I know God healed me, protected me, and kept me strong. I finished my 20. My time wasn’t the best, but it doesn’t matter. What I proved on Saturday was that I can run through pain. I can push through turmoil. I can conquer the miles. Now I’m officially on taper. And I will have to remind myself of that heavily, tonight in Zumba. I currently have a can of green beans under my desk at work, and I am rolling my arches back and forth over it. I’m walking slowly, but that’s only because I finished so strong.

Running, a year later

One year ago yesterday, I timidly, nervously, and hesitantly stepped out on my lunch break, wearing size XL shorts of my husbands and an XL t-shirt. I fumbled with my cell phone to start the Couch to 5k application, turned on Pandora (also my first time to use that) and started walking. The 60 seconds of running was TORTURE. Was it actual physical torture? No, not really. It was mental torture. I was not good enough to run those 60 seconds.

Two days later was even harder. Day 2. Can I do day 2? Shouldn't I just skip it? For me at that time, running was all mental. I went and completed it. I fought myself every single step over the 11 weeks that it took me to get through it. I repeated week 7 three times because I just felt that week 8 was asking too much of me. The only reason I think I even kept going was because I signed my husband and I up for a 2 mile Polar Bear Plunge, and I didn't want to embarrass myself being around real runners.
 Fast forward a few months, I had ran a maximum of 4 miles, and was still fighting myself every single step. If i wasn't such a crazy stubborn mule of a woman, i would have given up. I know I would have. But I met people, I made friends. I got skinnier, healthier, more endurance. I no longer breathed heavy when running. I found mud runs and obstacle runs. I found that I loved to pin those race numbers on my shirts. I loved the medals. I loved the fact that after a mud run, I normally had to take two showers to get all of that mud off.

But I still had that niggling self doubt. It took me 9 months and deciding to sign up with my local running store for marathon training before that voice went away. For whatever reason the act of showing up for that first 5 mile run cleared my head. I could do this. I was doing this. I had twenty weeks to prepare. That nasty little voice just disappeared!

Fast forward another 3 months and I am about a month and a half out for my first marathon. I have 3 more long runs, a 16, 18, and a 20. I wear size small running skorts only, and will only wear the wicking material. The thought of a t-shirt makes me cringe. I now feel that anything less than 5 miles really isn't worth my time. If I run a 5k race, I don't count it as exercise.  I have big plans for lots of fun races.

I'm not the fastest runner, the longest runner, or the best runner. But after one year I can tell you one thing: I am a runner! 

Smashing the little voice in the face

I have been a runner since last September when I boldly set out on my lunch hour with week 1 day 1 of c25k. It was a struggle. I second guessed myself during every single run. I had to repeat weeks because I would give up. I just fought myself continuously. Since completing it, I have kept running, but it was sporadic at best. I did some 5k’s, improved my time, but never much farther than that.

When I was showed up at a race by someone who had never ran before in her life, I made the decision to really start training. So I joined a half marathon group. The first attempt at running with them, I realized that they were just too slow for me. I found another group that worked out better, and at the end of our leisurely morning run, I found out that I had just ran 5 miles ( a whole mile farther than I had ever done before) and it was a full marathon group. So after thinking on it, I ran with them again the next weekend. Just like that I switched the next 5 months of training from 13.1 miles to 26.2 miles. My brand new 13.1 sticker sure looks silly on the back of my car! ;)

Last week I realized the voice is gone. That pesky, irritating, whiny, irrational, stupid voice. After 10 months of listening to it… it’s just completely disappeared. I don’t even know what happened to it. One minute I am thinking there’s no way you can run 13.1 miles; and the next I am completely cool, confident, and fine with the distance. Not only am I fine with it, I just go ahead and double it to 26.2. I don’t have any issues at all. I just show up, my mind goes blank, and I run. it is SO WONDERFUL! If you are like me and hear that voice, just have faith, and whatever you do, keep running

Those are my clothes Mister!

My entire relationship with my husband he has been able to wear my clothes. He is tall and lanky, and I am short and curvy. He has never had to stare into our closet sadly. He has ALL of his clothes to choose from plus ALL of my t-shirts. Unfortunately for me there was a period of time where I was too big to where his shirts. I felt like that was just wrong. The men are supposed to be bigger than the women. But I justified it at the time. Told myself excuses to make myself feel better.

This morning my husband reached into the closet and grabbed my Orphan Run 5k shirt I participated in a couple weeks ago. My first thought was, um EXCUSE ME? you didn't earn that shirt mister! But I held my tongue and picked out some boring banker clothes. (he's a graphic designer and can wear whatever he wants. I think I need to change professions)

He starts to slip the shirt over his head and he got STUCK! like arms stuck straight up in the air, head not out of the head hole, he has officially put himself into a Runner Shirt Straight Jacket. He says, AAAHH HELP ME! and I had to grab the top and peel it off of him. He had this crazy look after and he says, "I forgot you are so small now."

My non scale victories seem to be coming fewer and farther between here lately, but that sure was an awesome one! He is going to have to start running his own races if he wants to wear a shirt!

Changing my Perspective

Do you ever have a problem recognizing yourself in the mirror?

I have that problem all the time. I am now a skinny person. I know this. I have been a skinny person for several months now. I fit into pants I have never been able to before. I can run farther, dance harder, and just push myself to some amazing limits. I know that I am now a size 3/4. But as I sit here, in front of my work computer, i still feel "not skinny."

Now stop your thinking right there. This is not some pity plea to get you to give me pats on the back about my hard work. I am just saying that sometimes I walk past a mirror and I get this jolt of electricity. I just have this shock. Is that me? Wow I look great! Where did the double chin and stomach go?

The thing that I find the craziest are the people who didn't know me BEFORE. For instance my children just started daycare in October. These daycare people didn't know me Then. They don't know the effort that I have put in. My children are both very tiny. They have no butts, and forget about a waist. It's impossible to find clothes to fit. So half the time my oldest daughter can be seen pulling her pants back up.

The other day I dropped her off and as she walked away I said, "Girl hike your pants up!" Her teacher commented on how skinny she was. My quick reply was, Oh she gets it from her father, he is so skinny. And she replied back, you both are tiny people. I stopped for a second. Both? No, not me. I am not tiny. And then I realized that yes, to her I am tiny. She doesn't know the effort and portion controls that I put into place. She just believes that I am this naturally tiny person. She may even be jealous and think that I probably eat Bon Bon's and giant bags of Cheetos and just naturally look that tiny.

Every where I go complete strangers see me as a skinny person. They probably see my toned arms and skinny runners legs and think I am naturally that way. I know I have thought that many times in the past.

Of course there's no way I would correct such thinking. I would just love to eat entire boxes of ice cream sandwiches and be tiny. But it did get me to thinking, how many other people are that way? How many skinny people walk by us, and we think, GAH WHAT A JERK FACE FOR BEING SO GORGEOUS. And really they busted their booties 6 days a week sweating it out at the gym. How many people have I judged by looks alone?

John 7:24 says, Do not judge by appearances, but judge with right judgment.

This is what I am going to try to work on. I am going to try to live a healthy life, and not judge myself, my friends, my family, and complete strangers. I know this will be extremely hard to do. I judge people all the time. I judge heavy people as much as skinny people. Not everyone has the same life circumstances as me. But I am going to pray and work on it. Changing into a healthy lifestyle has to happen on the outside as well as the in.

The Dreaded Belly Fat

The whole point of me wanting to lose weight was to get rid of the belly. I wanted to take a step away from Mrs. Claus and a step towards some flat stomached gorgeousness. We will call my ab Goddess Natasha. There were many reasons I wanted to become Natasha. I wanted to make sure I prevented strain on my heart, I wanted to get rid of chub, I wanted to wear a bathing suit and not look like a Keebler elf.

In the past, I would always start crunching like crazy, then promptly give up with a cupcake in one hand, a Coke in the other, and a bag of Cheetos resting on my beach ball of a belly. This time I actually did some research and learned I could not magically target zones. Instead, I changed my lifestyle, and lost the weight.

I dropped all of my goal weight and STILL had the dang belly. What is up with that? I stood on a rooftop and shouted to the world with a shaking fist: WHAT DOES IT TAKE TO SMOOTH YOU OUT!!!!!!!!!! Am I destined to resemble a Honey Kissed Ham FOREVER?!?!?! Why does your body not let you TARGET ZOOONNNNEEESSS
(make zones echo to get the right affect)

Apparently the answer, because yes of course I do have the secret weight loss answer you have all been wanting. This answer.... are you sitting on the edge of your seats??? The answer.. is time. Ugh. I know right? That is the worst answer EVER. But that's it. Time. You just have to keep at it. Keep working out. Keep eating right. Keep on keeping on with your bad self. And eventually, whenever it good and well feels like it, it will just start melting away.

In the past two months I have only lost 2 pounds, which is fine since I am not attempting to lose weight anyway. But I have lost FOUR inches of belly. FOUR. My stomach still has some more to go. It still has stretch marks that I call my "beauty baby marks" in front of my girls. But it is SHRINKING DANGIT! And I haven't done a single thing to encourage it! EUREKA! And yes, I will answer to Natasha!

Wardrobe Malfunction

Saturday was my second race to run. It was a 4 mile Poker Run, where you got cards as you ran along and you got a prize at the end depending on how well you did. (I got a super fun nerdy black running t-shirt that had a math equation on the front, LOVED it!)

My first race I discovered several wardrobe malfunctions and I was determined to correct them this second time. So I planned out my outfit the night before. I had my favorite socks to run in (not running socks, this may be a future purchase for me), my new shoes, my running pants, and 3 different types of layers for the top so I could peel if necessary. I went to bed content.... (and of course this is when you queue the dramatic music we see in reality shows- and the camera pans to what I am forgetting and you all gasp in shock that I could forget it in the first place).

So 6:30 am my alarm goes off and I jump up all excited... well I was pretty sore so I think it was an actual roll out and a shuffle- but this is my life so pretend I'm being all excited and I just come out of bed naturally with perfect hair and make up. I got dressed in all my layers, ate my healthy carbohydrate fueled breakfast and opened up the door to THE COLDEST WINDS EVER!
Excuse me?? We have been enjoying 60 degrees for the last month! What is this?? Winter or something??

I promptly shut the door and started scrambling for a hat and gloves. The first hat I could find was my husband's sock puppet hat. I shrugged and jammed it on my head. The last race had men in ladies dresses and wigs, so I felt my sock puppet would fit right in. Then I reached into my purse to grab my gloves. I knew they were in there because I had just worn them earlier in the week and I always stick them right back in. (queue dramatic noise again, camera pans over to highlight my two nosy toddlers rooting around in my purse for candy) One of my gloves was MISSING! *gasp! shock! horror!*

I started panicking, the race started at 8 and we were getting close to 7:10 by this time. I look in every drawer I can, under the couch, in the living room toy bins, and I even run out to my car to see if it had fallen into the floor board. With absolutely ZERO luck. Remember, its absolutely freezing and it's Oklahoma- where the wind comes sweeping down the plains- so the wind was gusting at 30mph. I head back in and I just start looking for ANY gloves I could find. And what did I settle on? One of my 3 year old daughters' pink and white striped gloves. If I stretched it REALLY tight it covered about half of my hand.

Never one to call it quits, I yanked the pink glove on and went out the door. When I got there I tried to hand proof of payment to the guy and he told me, "oh I trust you. if you are here you are either an idiot or a runner." I looked down at my pink glove and I knew it was a whole lot of both.
Long story short, I ran a mile farther than I had ever run before, and averaged 11 minute miles- which was faster than I had ever done before. Mischief Managed.

My first race!

I did it! I completed my first race!

I started running c25k in October. It started off being a physical challenge and turned quickly into a mental challenge. I signed up for a race and since my motto is always go big or go home, I picked the Polar Bear Plunge. While only a 2 mile race, it boasted jumping into not one, but three freezing cold pools of water. It sounded crazy and right up my alley. I also hoodwinked my supportive husband to doing it with me.

I am good and comfortable with a 2.5 mile run right now so I really thought it would be easy. Boy was I wrong! Here is a break down of what happened and what I learned:

We brought a change of clothes and our phones, but did not have a 3rd person there to hold our stuff. Next time I will get a third person to come with us and be the keeper of our stuff/ taker of photos. things would have been much easier if we had that!

We started off near the back of the pack. that was big mistake number 2. this made us behind a bunch of slower people and increased our run time considerably. We ended up starting to go around people, but since this was our first race and I was unsure of running etiquette, we went slowly for awhile.
We started off running about a quarter of mile and then we took our very first plunge into cold water. It was straight into the Arkansas River. There were quite few people who skipped this one, and I think they are PANSY'S. Brandon jumped in head first and I went in to about the chest level. It was sooooo cold! Then we had to run sopping wet through the sand and it was tough.

Once we got away from the river we ran about a half a mile until we got to a dock. It was made up of a bunch of different cubes of plastic and we had to run across it. Talk about crazy! It was slippery and would bounce and move and it is a miracle I held my balance. There were a few people that plunged into the river again.

The next obstacle was to run along an amphitheaters stairs. It was simple enough, then a mile later we finally got to the pools. Now the way this website read was that it was a small jump into 3 pools, 3 to 5 feet deep. there was noooo mention whatsoever of SWIMMING. We get to the first pool and jump in. if we thought that the river was cold we were mistaken! Those pools were 10 times cooler than the river ever thought of being. We had to swim from jumping into the deep end and swim across the pool to climb out the steps on the shallow side.

On all three pools as soon as I jumped in my body naturally tried to gasp for air because of the cold. Gasping is NOT something you want to be doing when your head is under water!!!!! I came up for air, freaking out quite a bit if I am going to be honest with myself. I was able to get all the way across the first pool with several loud prayers to God and sheer determination. The second pool..... oh brother! I gasped water into my lungs a second time and started flailing. My husband grabbed me by the waist, (since he was so tall he could actually touch) and brought me to where I could touch. I then got out of the pool with as much dignity as possible and continued running along. I believe the phrase, "hardest thing I have ever done in my life besides childbirth" came out of my mouth.

The third pool required diving for your medal. there was nooo way I was going to let my husband help me again, and NOT get a medal. So I plunged in once more, gulped water, but this time i knew what was going to happen. I got to the shallow end and grabbed 3... ribbons? GASP! The medals had come unhooked and were somewhere in the murky bottom of the pool. I wear glasses though, and water was all over them and I just couldn't SEE them. I started to say over and over again, oh no! oh no! i can't! where? i can't! And then my husband yelled my name and one of the volunteers was willing to trade me a ribbon for a full medallion! thank goodness because I was so determined to get that medal i would have frozen before I gave up!

We then had a final sprint to the finish line, but if you wanted an actual picture, it was more of a waddle, waddle, slosh, slosh to the finish line. We crossed the line hand in hand and I felt so proud of myself. 3 months ago I couldn't run for more than 60 seconds. the polar bear plunge took me about 35 minutes. While that time is slightly terrible, remember that I couldn't go that fast, and I had to wait my turn to jump into the pools, and I spent a good minute digging for my medal.

when it was over we trembled and shook to the car to get our change of clothes. We got a nice fellow racer to take our picture and with GREAT strain we both got our change of clothes on. We left with big smiles on our faces and I said we would do it again next year. I know one things for sure, can't wait for the Mud Run in April and we have A LOT of training to do before the Warrior Dash!