Time to find my heart…

This picture was taken at the St. Jude Country Music Marathon Expo.  The full caption says “Let your Hear Race, Run For Charity”.  (Sorry if it's a little blurry) On Friday, I had no idea how much that would mean to me on Saturday.

I was sad.  I was confused.  I felt lost. 

I had lost one of the biggest loves of my life.  I had fallen out of love with running.  I didn’t want to do it anymore.  I didn’t have a reason to run.  What difference was I making?  Who was I going to impact?

I saw thousands of runners proudly showing support for their causes: St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital, Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s Team In Training, American Cancer Society’s DetermiNation, Wounded Warriors Project, Team 4:13, Girls on the Run, Black Girls Run, and countless other groups of friends, family, and co-workers united for a cause. 

There were seas of t-shirts listing who that runner was dedicated to that day… “I’m running in memory of my mom, dad, daughter, son, grandparent, best friend”, “I’m running in honor of ______”.  Countless pictures of happy families torn apart by a bitch named Cancer.  T-shirts filled with inspirational quotes, encouraging others that they can do this.   If I had this inspiration and motivation, maybe I wouldn’t have quit. 

I realized on Saturday that I was running because I’m selfish.  I was running for me and that wasn’t good enough.  I can get up and work out every morning for me.  That’s all I need.  But to run miles and miles on end, I needed a deeper reason.

I know I love running.  I just need to be in love with running again.  So here I am, asking all my friends, why do you run?

Is there a cause or charity that you love?  What can I do to use my love for running to help someone else?  I want to run for those who can’t run for themselves. I want to use my gifts to help others… but whom?  Who can I help? 

Send me your suggestions… I’m looking to rededicate myself to something special.  Something that can really make a difference….

When it’s 95 degrees this summer and 6pm rolls around, I won’t want to do a training run.  But the 5-year-old girl with cancer doesn’t want another round of chemo.  The young soldier in Afghanistan doesn’t want to lose his leg to protect my freedom… but they do it.  They do it because they’re fighters.  Both of these examples are true hero of those fighting for a cause.  I want to do something to help them and others like them.

I want to go for a training run and know that I’m doing this for something amazing, something that will truly pay off and be bigger than I ever imagined.  My next race will be with a purpose and have great meaning to many others and me.

I'm going to race from my heart...

Some days just aren’t going to be your day

The Country Music ½ Marathon was the first half marathon I completed two years ago.  That was a crazy day.  My friend Emily somehow managed to convince me that this was a good idea.  We showed up at the starting line about 15 minutes before the starting gun.  Or so we thought.  Turns out, our corral is already starting.  The race director decided to start the race early due to bad storms are tornados approaching Nashville.  I don’t remember much about that race… just a few highlights.  A.  Emily, speeding along and leaving me in her smoke somewhere around mile, oh I don’t know…. 0.2 maybe?  J B. It was crowded C. I learned the importance of runner’s lube and how debilitating chaffing can be.  One thing I’ll never forget about that race was the intense mix of emotions I felt when I crossed the finish line.  At first it was, “Wow, I can’t believe I did that.”  Second, it was “Next time, I’m going to do better”  From there I was hooked…. Addicted to the quest of bigger and better. That shouldn't have been my day, but I made it my day.

Fast forward two years to April 28, 2012, the St. Jude Country Music Marathon.  I thought the weekend started well.  My mom and I had a great lunch at one of her favorite spots.  We went to the expo and got all my race gear and SWAG.  We went to the mall and of course everything in The Loft was 40% off so I stocked up on goodies there.  And then we went home and my parents cooked one of my favorite meals.  It’s pretty simple, just grilled chicken, sautéed squash and zucchini over angel hair pasta.  Would have been better with a glass of wine, but oh well…. Maybe next time J

Saturday morning I woke up, got dressed, prepared my race essentials and we were off to Centennial Park.  While in the car I realize my iPod armband is dead.  It’s got to be at least 3, if not 4, years old.  So needless to say it’s been through a lot with me. The Velcro is coming off and I’ve tried to re-glue it over and over again.  But today it just wasn’t going to cut it.  No worries.  I can put the ipod in my shirt.  Then I start to put my race number on.  Open the envelope I got at the expo and only had two pins.  Great.  This is going to be awkward.  The race bibs are already over half the size of my torso and now I’m not going to have it secure on my shirt.  I put one on the top left and one on the bottom right.  I wish I knew how to fold it up and make it a lot smaller but oh well…. Who has time to think at that hour just minutes before the start??? So I battled it the whole time I ran... flopping around and being generally annoying.

I get in my corral and wait for the race to begin.  This could have been my least favorite part of the race.  Your anxiety level is high.  The crowd’s intensity is high.  Everyone is excited to be there.  Snapping pictures.  Sharing last minute words of encouragement.  Warming up.  Stretching cold muscles (ps never a good idea).  Jumping up and down like preschooler being bribed with animal crackers.  Everyone except me.  I’m bored.  I’m lonely.  And I just don’t know why I’m here. 

The race starts and I’m just cruising through the streets.  It’s warm, but I’m feeling good.  I learned a lot about running in the heat when I was in Gainesville in February.  I knew to drink water before I was thirsty.  Had plenty of Gatorade to replenish my electrolytes.  And took several packets of salt during the run.  It sounds gross, but I had to eat plain packets of salt to prevent dehydration. 

The first few miles are exactly how I remembered them… same course, same crowds as before.  I was excited to see my parents in front of their church shortly after mile 5. When I saw them I was feeling good.  My stride was perfect, comfortable speed, and feeling better than expected.  Right on pace, feeling the heat but it wasn’t stopping me.

Pretty soon I saw more and more runners laying on the sidewalks… medics tending to them.  I’m guessing they had severe cramps, dehydration, or some other heat related infliction… then I start thinking what is worth pushing your body that hard?  Was I ready for that today?  Or any day?

Today, I wasn’t prepared to push myself to that extreme.  I had nothing on the line.  Nothing that I was that passionate about.  That’s when I got to thinking… I mean, seriously, now’s the perfect time to think, considering I’ve got nothing else to do for the next three to four hours.

Around mile 10 I decided to slow my pace and start walking.  I would walk 2 minutes; run 8 minutes.  I don’t know why I picked this 8-2 plan.  It probably doesn’t have much scientific, physical, or physiological benefit to running, but it’s easy math for me. 

Pretty soon, around mile 11, the half marathoners split off and went to their last leg of the race.  Lucky “Sons ovva bitches” I thought to myself.  I powered up the hill, through another water stop.  At this point I felt fine.  My legs weren’t tired.   Surprisingly I wasn’t feeling any pain… especially since I had tweaked my hamstring the weekend before when I ran an easy four miles.   My body felt fine.  It was my brain that was tired and weak.  I began considering quitting.  Why shouldn’t I?  I’m not having fun.  I’m not making a difference.  I didn’t care if I let myself down.

Then I saw my parents again at mile 12.  I told my mom… I don’t know what I’m doing.  I don’t want to do this anymore but I kept going.  I knew I would pass them at this spot again so I would decide what I wanted to do before I got back here again. 

As I approached the 13^th mile marker, I slowed to a walk so that I could get a Gu Chomp and some water.  And without much thought or consideration I just turned around.  I got on the sidewalk and ran back toward my parents and the half marathon runners.  Done.  That was it.  I was over it for the day.  I wasn’t doing poorly.  I was pretty much on pace with where I wanted to be.  When I turned around I passed the 4:30 marathon pace group.  For a brief second I considered joining them and making new friends.  But I didn’t.  I didn’t because no one was making me and I wasn’t going to make myself. 

I found my parents again and told them I was going to finish the half and I’ll meet them at the finish line.  I was in much better spirits to know that I was close to finishing now.  The last two miles weren’t great.  Everyone was walking.  It was hot and there were several decent hills or inclines in the home stretch of this race.  But the good news is we finished on a downhill.  I crossed the finish line.  Graciously accepted the half marathon finisher’s medal from a volunteer and quietly made my way through the shoot to collect my water, Gatorade, and banana.  I found my parents and sat in the shade to rest a minute. I watched as people cheered the many St. Jude Hero finishers enter their VIP tent.  I wanted that.  I wanted someone to cheer for me.

I held back my tears and walked to the car in silence.  I didn’t feel like talking to anyone.  I had a lot to think about….

Lessons Learned

Nothing like waiting til the last minute to make a decision…. The Five Points of Life Marathon in Gainesville, FL was February 19th .  I decided to register on February 15^th.  I mean, cause hey, why not?

I wasn’t exactly sure how I’d work it all out but I knew I would.  I called my mom to see if I could try to use a Friends & Family pass for a Marriot Hotel… this got my mom to thinking.  She could come to Atlanta on Friday (clean my house and pay for professional carpet cleaning), drive to Florida Saturday, run a marathon Sunday morning then drive home Sunday night…. Easy peasy, right?

Seems like we weren’t the only ones going to Gainesville that weekend.  We weren’t able to get a hotel room in town so we had to stay in Ocala.  This was about 35-40 minutes from Gainesville.  We got down pretty early on Saturday afternoon, picked up my race packet and checked into the hotel.  I took a short little nap, then we went downtown for dinner.  This ended up being a really great dinner.  We went to Harry’s a New Orleans style restaurant. Little did we realize that it was Mardi Gras… so, we had a really long wait.  No worries, we had no problem filling our time with shopping and cocktails at the bar.  While we were waiting we quickly picked up on the buzz in the restaurant…. Two country stars and their posses had just arrived.  We were right there with James Otto (Just Got Started Loving You) and Lee Brice (Love Like Crazy and A Woman Like You).  Not to mention, the food was delicious!  I don’t remember exactly what I had, and I’m disappointed that I didn’t take a picture, but I remember it being hella good! 

Early before the sun came up we were on the road to the starting line.  I had my typical pre race nerves.  I didn’t feel like eating, it was difficult to eat half of my oatmeal.  I tried to drink a cup of water but that was a struggle too.  It was hot.  I mean really hot at the start of the race.  The week before, it was in the 20-30 degrees range in Atlanta.  Today is was about 72 at 7:00am when the race started.  I found a quiet area to do some simple warm ups and get prepared for the race… I was scared. I was nervous.  I didn’t know what to expect.  I guess I’ve learned to expect the worst.

Before the first mile was complete I was sweating like a beast… this was gonna be a bad thing.  The best part about the race was meeting new friends.  At the start of the race I saw two girls leading the 4:15 pace group.  I quickly introduced myself and started chatting…. Katie and Danielle were great!  They had been running together for several years and loved marathons as much, well maybe more, than me!  Before I knew it 8 miles were behind us.  But I was feeling it… I had been running a little too fast, talking a little too much, and drinking/eating a little too little.  I stopped for water and sport beans and never caught up with my new friends.  I kept my head up and powered through alone, the best I could.  As the miles rolled by we toured downtown Gainesville and the University of Florida campus.  The best part was going through Ben Hill Griffin Stadium.  The racecourse went through the concourse and there were highlights being played on the TVs complete with game day announcers, band and full audio.    Pretty soon we were approaching the 13^th mile.  I was struggling, hurting, and needing electrolytes.  I should have stopped here.  I should have listened to my body.  But I thought I could make it another 13 and kept pushing on… The half marathoners peeled off to the right and collected their medals.  I saw my mom cheering for me and then turned left.  The first half of the race was awesome… great sites to see, great fans and spectators, great energy and fun… The second half was as boring as Freshman Chemistry.  The only things I remember were a few cops at intersections, volunteers telling me where to turn, and water/aid stations that didn’t have salt.  My legs were starting to cramp.  I had already lost all my water and electrolytes.  There was no catching up now.  I started playing with math… if I walk now, how long will it take me to finish?  The only problem was, walking hurt like hell….hurt worse than running.  But when I started to run, my mind told me to stop.  Hurt to walk, hurt to run, hurt to stand still.  What could I do?  I tried not to cry.  This was the worst time to cry… I couldn’t waste the water and I knew I surely couldn’t waste the sodium.  I held it together and tried to push through.  Around mile 15 I started to alternate run-walk.  You look behind you and see 15 miles, and you think, “Hell yeah I did that!”  Then you look in front of you and see 11.2 and you thing, “OMG there’s no way I can do that”  Usually I can tell that second voice to GFY.  But today I couldn’t… that voice was louder and I think it was because that was the little voice of reason and sense.  I tried to stretch out the cramps but they were overwhelming and my legs were locking up constantly.  PS it’s probably creeping up close to 89-90 by now.

As I approach the water station at mile 18 I see a runner on the sidewalk being tended to by some medical volunteers.  As I get closer he stands up and walks to the tent and sits down.  I get some water and Gatorade and tell the volunteers that I’m cramping up really bad.  I asked for some S caps, salt packets, anything that will help the cramps.  They don’t have anything for me.  One volunteer stretches my legs and massages the areas that were cramping the worst.  Pretty soon, that fallen runner was back on his way to the finish line.  I was still lying on the ground stretching and fighting the tears.  I still wanted to save everything I had.  A minute later, a car drove by honking at us.  She yelled “There’s a runner down at the bottom of the hill”. Two volunteers ran down to check him out.  Sure enough, it was the same guy who had collapsed/fallen out when I got to the aid station.  He hit the pavement twice in about a third of a mile, yet he planned to continue 8 more miles to the finish line.  A volunteer looked at me and said, “You know, you’re not always lucky to collapse within site of a medic tent”.  That was it for me…. I was done for the day.  My body had been telling me it had enough for about an hour, now my common sense and reason knew it was time to call it a day.  Was it worth the danger to finish today when I knew I had more races in the next few months?  I let it all out now.  I cried, admitted defeat, and called my mom to pick me up. 

I got in the car, and started to cry more… sob.  I was inconsolable.  I felt like a loser.  I felt like a quitter.  I felt worthless.  I paid $80 for a race entry, $90 something for a hotel room, my mom paid over $100 for gas… and we were going home with a sweaty, sopping wet t-shirt and wrinkled race number.  And also two souvenir blisters from trying new socks but that’s a different story. 

I was ready to quit.  Ready to give up on running marathons… ready to throw this stupid goal out the window.  I hated running.  And I hated myself. 

I probably cried well beyond the Florida-Georgia state line.  As my body started to recover and feel better, my mind and spirit began to hurt more.  Maybe if I had just waited 15-20 minutes at the aid station then I could have recovered and kept on my way.  I would be slow, but I would have finished another race.

I still don’t know which was more painful, miles 14-18 or driving 6 hours back home a looser and having to face all my friends?  My answer changes day to day.  My competitive side says to suck it up and finish the race.  My sensible side says I made the right decision by not hurting myself and causing long-term damage.  Both hurt like a hurt I had never felt before.

I’m hoping there are a few lessons learned here…

1.   1.  Plan ahead.  Don’t decide to run a marathon with less than a week’s notice.

2.    .  2. Proper nutrition is key.  More than just water, proper hydration includes electrolytes.  By drinking so much water I was flushing my system.

3.      3. Making new friends was my prize that day.  I now have two more running buddies in the south east J

4.       4. Listen to my body.  I have to accept the decision I made that day.  Good or bad.  I did what my body                        was telling me.

5.       5. Come back with vengeance.  I’ve got my eyes set on Five Points of Life 2013.  I won’t be defeated twice.