Friday, April 11, 2014

the big race

At the beginning of this year, I asked my brother to sign up for Philly's Hot Chocolate 15k race. It took 10 weeks of training, which was ALL INDOORS due to the weather and having a baby. And no, I don't have a treadmill. I ran in place. Seriously, I could jog in place forever. But when it came time for the race, I felt pretty unprepared. And terrified. I barely slept the night before because my heart wouldn't stop pounding. It was my first night ever without Blake, and it just figures that I didn't get to take advantage of sleeping through the night!

My brother and I started the race at the very end of the last group. This group was called "walkers," so we quickly passed by everyone in our group. After two miles, my brother ditched me, and I was left to pace for myself. The first five/six miles were easy, and then it started to get more difficult. Each mile marker seemed to get further and further away.


By the time that the running got more difficult, I stopped passing people and started to keep pace with the same group of people. There was a pregnant woman, an older woman, and an overweight man, among others. In my despair at the perceived extended length of mile 7-8 and 8-9, I started to feel bad about myself that these people could keep pace with me. Why couldn't I run faster? I'm not pregnant, old, OR overweight! But you know what "difficulty" I have? A weak mind. In fact, I almost bought a shirt to wear for the race that said "mind over matter" because THAT is what my struggle is. I had to overcome my mind that so easily wanted to make excuses about why I couldn't run the race that day and why I needed to walk instead of run. I had to tell myself that even if I didn't love where I was right now, it was where I was. So I might as well give it my all so that I don't have any regrets afterward. For me, that meant no walking. Even if it meant I ran really slowly when I needed to. And I did it.

The funny thing is that everyone was released in groups, and like I said earlier, we started at the very end of the last group. So the group I ended up keeping pace with, the pregnant woman, the older woman, and the overweight man, may have actually started their race 10 minutes before me. So while my mind is wandering with self-deprecating thoughts, these other runners may have actually had 10 more minutes on their clock than I did. Maybe and maybe not. I don't know what they were overcoming by running in that race. I don't know their stories. But we all have one. And that's why running is so powerful. We ALL have obstacles to overcome in life, and running a race proves to us that we can overcome! The definition of victory will be different for everyone. My victory was overcoming my mind and running the entire race. I'm not necessarily in a hurry to do a race like this again, but to know that I can makes me feel so powerful. It's a great feeling.

Best part of the race? When I saw TJ on the side lines at about 9.1 miles, and he ran with me across the finish line, hand in hand. That's something I will remember for the rest of my life. 

(By the way, this is not meant to say that I think I'm better than pregnant, older, or overweight people. Mad props to these people for running 9.3 mile races! My point is that I'm not better than them, but I'm also not lesser.)