So last week I told the Facebook world that I did a crazy thing, and I did! I signed up for the Houston Half Marathon.
This will technically be my third half, but only the second half where I have trained properly. The first half I ever did, my newlywed self and husband attempted to do it together. You may see a knight appear over my shoulder here and say, “You have chosen poorly.”
You see that year it rained a ton (and I just cannot seem to run more than two miles on a treadmill – treadmills are the devil’s workshop slash they are boring and hard on my knees). But also both the husb and I (mostly me) got sick a lot. Not to mention that the husb is a foot taller than me so can you guess how running together went down? If we ran at his pace, I was a goner after just a few miles because I had to run four steps to his every one. But, if he ran at my pace, he was almost walking and not at all tired when we were done.
Suddenly, it was race day and we had never run further than four miles. We managed 6.5 miles running before I had a case of the runs (TMI?). After a lengthy wait for a port-a-potty, we were back on the road, but the run was all gone from me (the runs and the running spirit). So, we walked. About mile nine, I hated everything and everyone. Some poor soul offered me an orange and all I offered her was my look of disdain. I wish I could go back and apologize. IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT! I would tell the woman. I AM BEYOND TIRED! I ate a banana, drank some water, and made the husband take me home. I cannot believe I woke up before 6am for this.
So it was not a success.
The second half-marathon, I actually ran the entire thing. I had just given birth to my first kiddo and I needed motivation to get up and moving. So I printed out the Hal Higdon novice 1 schedule and got to it. I treated running like my part-time job and my husband promised me that if I ran the whole thing he would buy me one of those quarter zips I wanted so badly. I found an ancient jogging stroller someone was tossing out and I started bringing the tiny one along when she was finally old enough to sit up. The stroller was awful and one of the wheels always listed to the left which left me fighting it and my arms incredibly sore. But I kept going. I was determined. I began eating healthier, not crazy healthy, but more healthy so that I would have enough fuel for my new running schedule.
And guess what…I ran the whole thing. I did it.
But there are things that people who train for half-marathons tell you that are LIES and things that they do not tell you which I think you should know.
First off: They tell you that if you train for 10 miles, you will have enough adrenaline to take you the final three. Maybe this is the case for flat places, but I ran the Fort Worth Cowtown which may not be the most hills ever, but was more than Houston had trained me. So I made it exactly 11 miles and change before I wanted to give up and walk home. I still ran the final miles, but only by sheer stubbornness and perseverance. Also, there was no “Mile 13” sign, so I honestly did not know how close I was to the finish (maybe .2 miles) when someone says, “YOU’RE ALMOST THERE!!” And I just barely held back a yell of, “SHUT UP!” I did not yell, I just did not acknowledge it at all. Clearly my kindness comes out when I am under exercise induced duress.
Second off: Your toe nails might fall off or turn black. Why did no one tell me this??? I started seeing some signs from the many people who come out to cheer and gawk at the runners and they said, “We love you even if your toenails fall off!” I was literally like, “WHAT?!?!?!?!” I’m looking around at the people running around me (and that older woman who is walk/running faster than I am running, ok wonder woman calm down) to see if anyone else is as confused and concerned as me, but everyone else is either just running or laughing. Now, I ran the whole race without headphones or any thing to distract me because I’m ridiculous, so I kept running while I stewed over this new information. After the race, my toenails were still in tact, but they were black/brown. The underside of my toenails was full of blood it turns out. I guess my shoes weren’t as awesome as I expected and maybe I should not have bought shoes just because they were on sale. They were hyper tender to the touch and I could not wear tennis shoes for a while. The upside, they never fell off. The downside, it took months of painting my toenails before my toes were back to normal.
So here we are at my third half-marathon, I have three kids, and I’m starting from almost scratch on running. I’ve been doing couch to 5k for a while and I am finally ready to start running for real.
It started so well too – I went running with the middle and the youngest in a jogging trailer (nicer than my last one, thank you Craigslist) while the oldest was at a church activity. But it turned that that two kids each over 30 pounds and a jogging trailer that is over 10 pounds is really heavy and if you combine that with high humidity as well as 95 degree heat, I cannot run quite so far. So I am hoping that the next run will be better and alone. But we will see. My stomach keeps not letting me exercise early in the morning which is what I really need. Say a prayer.
I’ll keep you updated on my progress as I go. Sweaty pictures and all.
See You Outside!