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.