I ran a half marathon on Sunday…here are my thoughts
I ran a half marathon on Sunday… here are my thoughts:
Up until last year, I never considered myself a runner… unless you count my middle school cross-country era (shouthout ICCR XC). For me, running always served as punishment and conditioning for the sports I played. Flash forward a few years, and here I am reflecting on my second (and third) half marathon. If you’ve run one, you know what I mean when I say these races are a whirlwind of emotions. Let’s unpack it.
For starters, you train for months for a singular 2 hour race. The training isn’t always sunshine and rainbows. There are days your legs feel great, and there are days your legs feel like cement. Physicality aside, there are days you feel motivated and encouraged, and days you wish you could drop out of the race all together. You experience the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. Every fiber of your mental and physical being is tested, but something deeper than yourself keeps you going.
I can’t explain the itch to continue racing… I mean, I’m going to try right now. I bet it has to do with the fact that you stay disciplined for long enough to see your achievement unfold. This sense of accomplishment is truly unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Your body undergoes new stress every week of training, and slowly, your body adapts. Stronger. Faster. Lighter with each run. Suddenly, the 10 miler you never thought was possible seems ordinary.
Then you have race day. All the time, training, and energy you’ve dedicated to this race will pay off. You feel nervous, giddy, and a sense of about-to-shit-my-pants. Once your feet start moving across the start line, these feelings dissipate. You’re in it. You’re here. You’re doing the damn thing. The best way to describe it would be a feeling of awe – simply starstruck by yourself.
The first 4-5 miles of my race weren’t hell, but something close to it. I was tight, my mind was focusing on the 12, 11, 10 miles that lie in front of me. My joints were stiff, my mind uneasy. There was a liberating shift that came with the miles that followed – I felt warm, high, powerful, unstoppable. My aches disappeared, my legs became acclimated to the pace I set, and my mind was lost in the race. I can’t tell you exactly what I thought at each mile after the first 5, probably because I hit runners high, but I can tell you what the last mile felt like: a testament of strength.
You’d think that after running for close to 2 hours, the last mile would be a breeze. Honestly, same. I thought I’d have no trouble coasting to the finish line to be greeted by my sister and friends. Unfortunately, this was not my reality. The homestretch challenged my endurance. It challenged my lungs, as I tried to keep my breathing consistent. It challenged my legs, as they began to feel heavy. Above all, it challenged my mental resilience. I coached myself through it, reminding myself that I can run for 1 more mile, ½ mile, 10 yards. I queued “Pumpin blood (The Chainsmokers Remix)” by NONONO, because I am in fact blessed to be healthy enough to run for 13 miles. I’m blessed to have legs that carry me long distances, and a heart that pumps blood to fuel my every step.
Upon crossing the finish line, your immediate feeling is “I would hug you, but I fear I’m going to throw up.” Wellllll maybe that’s just me. Moments later, you’re so high on life that you want to register for another race. Then a sense of emptiness sets in, having achieved a goal you've dedicated weeks and weeks to – leaving you pondering, “What's next?”
What’s next is rest and recovery. What’s next should be rest and recovery, unless you impulsively (and I mean impulsively) sign up for another half that’s less than 7 days away. Six days after DONNA (the 13.1 in Jax), I was hit with a text from a friend telling me to sign up for the Tally half marathon. Fifteen minutes before registration closed, I signed up, no questions asked.
You’ve already been briefed on the experience, so I’ll refrain from recounting it once more. What I will share is my gratitude for the people that showed up for me when I doubted myself.
For my dad, telling me that no goal is too large, and that anything I set my mind to I’ll achieve.
For Sam, reminding me of my “why” when training felt unbearable and long runs felt lonely
For my runner friends, Emma and Mariah to name a couple, who made me feel so seen and understood when I told them I needed to take a step back from the full and continue with only the half.
For Meg, holding my hand as we crossed the finish line, reinstilling strength that was starting to dwindle
For my support system (Kat, Fran, Coco, amongst many others) who showed up to cheer or send encouraging texts.
I'm filled with gratitude for countless individuals who shaped this experience, although my aim isn't to pen an entire memoir about it. My goal is to share my story, in hopes of inspiring you to set new limits and achieve newfound triumphs.
If you're sitting there reading this, wondering if I’d do any of it again, my answer is “hell yeah, baby!” Aches and pains aside, these past few months have been exhilarating. I’ve honed in on my values and aspirations, welcoming only what genuinely enriches my life. I’ve also faced immense internal struggle – committing myself in July to run a full marathon, then deciding to switch my registration to the half was not an easy decision. I felt like I was failing myself and my friends, with whom I promised to share this experience. Forfeiting runs altogether and seeking validation from anyone who would listen, I struggled in silence for a few months. It was a constant back-and-forth between listening to my gut and persevering. Ultimately, I decided that running a full was not in my best interest. Circumstances change, and I have to be willing to adapt. At the end of the day, rushing myself to prepare for a 26.2 mile race, just for the sake of doing it, was not going to do me any favors. Disguised as failure, to me, was courage – courage to listen to my gut and reframe my perspective. Courage to make a decision without the immediate assurance that it would be the right choice. Courage to acknowledge the uncertainty and embrace the opportunity for growth it presented.
You see, life’s too short to settle for anything less than what motivates us to manifest our fullest potential. It’s too short to give a damn what anyone else says, or waste time seeking validation that only you can give yourself. So if there’s anything I learned from running a half marathon on Sunday, it’s that you’re stronger than you think you are. In every sense of the word, you’re more powerful than the intrusive thoughts that are weighing you down – more powerful than the fear of failing, and more resilient than the person you were yesterday.
Sorry to go all motivational-coach on you. I just had such an itch to write this after hearing so many of my friends navigate the same thoughts. Anyways, I’m not sure what milestones lie on the horizon, and for once, I’m pretty content with that… except I do have a slight urge to sign up for another big race, but I’m learning how to pace myself (pun absolutely intended).
Catch you soon ;)
xx,
EC
