A little over a year ago, a strong desire was placed in my heart to start running. I am not the athletic type, and had never run before. Back in junior high and high school, my best friend and I would even talk our gym teachers into letting us walk the mile run, etc. As I became a mother, I would try and chase after my active boys and while I was in the physical motion of running, I felt like my legs were askew in different angles. It took great effort to even lift a leg and place it in front of the other. ...I just can't put into words how strange the action of running felt to me.
When Dellen started preschool last fall, I thought that would be when I started to run. Those weeks instead, turned into the beginning of our huge transition from Oklahoma to Kansas. I simply didn't have time to attempt anything new. But, I would still watch people run and be drawn into their movement as the motion called out to me.
I now live about an hour away from the college I attended. This last year, my college dropped my major and in February I attended a reception to close out the program. Reunited with one of my dear friends, who is an avid runner, I casually mentioned that I have been wanting to run for some time. Her enthusiasm was overwhelming. She right then and there, invited me to train for a half marathon in Long Island in October. On my drive home that night, I called and talked with my sister-in-law, Lori, and asked if she would at all be interested to accompany me on this journey. The enthusiasm was spreading. We started a couch to 5K training program in March. Basically, starting with nothing; running one minute and walking seven and repeating that three times. That minute was agony for me.
I had eluded to the journey I was beginning here on the blog, but never had the courage to really share what I had begun. It has been such a challenge, and truthfully, quite discouraging at times that I've simply not wanted to fail. I would take pictures for the blog, and then never post them. The following are a few from back in May of some local trails I go on.
I started out on this wood chip trail in March, with bare trees. I should have been taking seasonal pictures, because the canopy is completely filled in at this time of summer.
Running through the trees, I felt safe and hidden. Occasionally, the trail opens up to a view of some fields. This green wheat field is long gone. I think alfalfa is planted in it now.
Another path I would take was cemented the entire way. I live in a beautiful town with trails running throughout. The next two pictures are from another path that goes around a field (such a daunting and open area for me to run through) and then...
...narrows down into a path along the creek going through town. I thought I had pictures of the creek but can't find them. That would be another area of contrast, as we've had such drought that the creek is nearly dried up at this time.
Both of these trails are nearby my house, but I would drive there and park, mustering up the courage to run. Most often though, I would drive and park near the wood chip trail, and run in the trees. I felt more hidden and secure.
I have kept a personal journal after each run or step on this journey. I think it could prove to be highly entertaining and perhaps motivational some day. I am pushing myself as far out of any comfort zone I possibly can. I feel like I am answering a call from God. As I've shared my "journey" with others that run, they look at me strangely and think I'm funny. People run,
to run. I run,
on a personal quest.
My setbacks have been many. Besides my extreme insecurities, I have battled a constant knee pain. I ran with someone for the first time in June, and pushed myself physically past where I was ready to at that time. It has taken nearly two months to not feel constant knee pain. I still can't sit cross-legged without tension up to my hip on that side. But, I have learned lessons from that. I simply have to listen to my body and go at my own pace now. If I walk some, or a lot, that is what I have to do.
Our summer travels and especially the lack of childcare while Russ is gone, have been most inconvenient. That and the weeks of 100 plus degree heat. I do not tolerate heat and humidity well. I can run in 45 degrees much happier than I can in 95 degrees.
Having Lori as my running partner has proven beneficial. Even though we don't run together, I think I would have given up weeks ago without her. She has pushed me in ways she probably doesn't realize. I want so badly to run across the race line, having accomplished the Long Island Half Marathon together.
Having shared several challenges that I'm facing, I'll share some victories I've experienced. Just this last week, I opened up my front door and walked to the end of my cul-de-sac and started jogging in my neighborhood. A huge unexplainable victory for me. I lay in bed in the early mornings, dreading going out there, but I am doing it.
It was so easy to plan a course of training early on. To put that 5K race on the calendar for August 13th, so simple. And then, last Wednesday came and I had the 13th looming just days before me. I had finally completed six miles that Monday before. Running and walking, so slowly. The previous weeks of four miles and five miles had not been completed for one reason or another. I had only done three miles at a time twice before. A 5K is 3.1 miles.
The week before we had been at a pastors retreat and denominational conference in Oklahoma. I went into that time very discouraged. I exited there with a fresh wind. God is doing a work in me, and the word discipline was pressed upon my heart. Discipline. Discipline is what pushed me to complete six miles a week ago, and discipline is what held me accountable to register for a 5K race on Saturday.
And my friend, Chris (the one who encouraged me back in February), is who pushed me to not only race, but register for the half marathon relay with her! And so, quite spontaneously, we registered for the relay three days before the race. It would be a time of crazy fun.
Those three days were filled with sleepless nights as my youngest was ill. At one point we even feared that he had appendicitis, and took him to the ER. While Russ texted me results of Dellen's tests (while I was home with sleeping Sam), I lay in bed thinking about the disappointment that I would feel to cancel the race now. We were relieved that Dellen was clear of any appendix problems, and only suffered from a nasty stomach virus. I was simply exhausted though. Russ did all he could to ensure that I could sleep undisturbed going into the race, for I already had to wake up at 4:20 in the morning! And that is what I did. Chris and I met at 5:15, and drove almost an hour away in the dark and registered for our relay. And within ten minutes of race time, we decided that I would run the first half. I had been thinking I would run the second, but we learned that was the more challenging half of the relay and I asked Chris to run it instead. And so that was quite a last minute change. I hadn't really had time to warm up and stretch, barely making it to the start line before the gun went off. Chris snapped a picture of me, and then we realized that everyone else was praying. I was sooooo nervous! I was also feeling very out of my element, and just barely stood there at the rear end of the group lest not to be in any one's way. The following pictures make me laugh! Look how tense I am; I'm as stiff as a board.
I can hardly believe I'm sharing all this on here! But, I need praying friends to come along beside me on my journey now. As I took off around the first corner, it was emotionally powerful. I was about to cry thinking here I was in a race! I really couldn't believe it! It was such a surreal moment. I passed a few people trying to find my place in the pack. It was a small race, so not crowded. As we headed out into the country on the dirt roads, everyone really started to spread out. Within the previous 15 minutes, I had told Chris my fear of being last. She was encouraging and said I wouldn't be and I too, really expected to be in the middle of the group. My goal was to complete the 6.55 miles in an hour and a half. Well, by the first mile, I was third to last. I had intended to run/walk, but the sound of the gator vehicle behind me was a major motivator. At one point, I was second to last. I jogged along thinking about my verbalized fear, and then spent time communing with God that He had other plans for me. I had to tackle that I could very well be last. I was still running though. Watching the sun come up. Going up and down beautiful country roads. Running over bridges. Listening to the chirps of birds early in the morning. Feeling the cool breeze. And then the reality of running through a town, on cobblestone streets. Running across streets that the local police were holding up traffic for sole me to cross. Being encouraged by the volunteers for the race as they handed out water and directed our turns. Quite beneficial when you are so far behind others that you are no longer following anyone!
I wish I had taken pictures of what I saw. I'd love to share them here, but even more than that, I'd like to refresh my memory. The experience is still vague to me. My memories jumbled and splotchy. I remember running (well, jogging is probably much more the word to imagine any time I say running) up a really long dirt road hill at the end. I would have walked it in any other situation, but at the top and just around the corner, was the end of my relay half, and my faithful and encouraging companion ready to start her half in the heat way behind the others. I was steady. The volunteers cheered me on, as well as, the other two partners waiting for their first halves. I raised my arm and said, "I'm still running. I'd much rather walked up that hill." Chris and I ran the last twenty yards together. She wanted me to see my time as I crossed the line. And I cheered her on as she left. I walked and stretched and walked some more. I met up with the others and we waited for a ride back to the clubhouse. As six sweaty women talked in the van, there was an immense camaraderie. I shared that was my first race, and received such encouragement. I said I did my personal best and was still about last. No one cared. One woman in the back, said but you did it. And I did!
Back at the finish line, waiting for Chris to finish, was an emotional time. I joined the crowd cheering on the finishers one by one. People of all sizes and ages. One particular couple, looked well into their golden years, and finished the half marathon side by side. They had passed me quite early on a couple of hours previously. A father and his six year old son were finishing up the 5K. As the announcer would state their names about twenty yards out, the little boy had a last minute dose of adrenaline and raced forward to the finish. Another father pushing a double stroller with a one year old and a toddler raising their arms up in victory crossing the finish line. And, competitor after competitor. I'm not sure I had ever been a part of something like that. It was an extremely encouraging and affirming atmosphere. What a motivating feeling! And, I have my first race shirt!
I type this entry now, already dreading running tomorrow. I'll just go for three or four miles. Ha! That is short and I said "just"! And on Monday, I'll be out for eight. Ugh.
