San Jose Rock and Roll Half Marathon

This race was different for me. I wasn't nervous the weeks approaching the race. I wasn't nervous the night before the race. Or excited. I couldn't figure it out. I got butterflies as Rachel parked the car in the race lot. The only time I had real nerves was as we were trying to find our fourth running Mama before the race. Five minutes to go, no sign of her. One minute to go, no sign of her. Start whistle blows, NO SIGN of her.

It wasn't until I crossed the start mat that the emotions caught up with me. I had tears in my eyes. The MONTHS of hard work: waking up at 5 am, running with the jogging stroller, running the long runs NO MATTER WHAT, running in the heat, running in the rain, sacrifice: skipping dates with mommy friends to make sure I could wake up and run on the weekends, skipping coffee dates, lunch dates, FUN stuff to run had got me here: the START. Unlike my first half, I knew what it really meant to train for and RUN a half marathon. The time commitment. The physical commitment. The emotional commitment. The family commitment. At that moment, I had already won. I knew that I would finish. I may not like my time, but I would limp, crawl, roll my way across the finish if I had to. Despite the many challenges and obstacles, I never gave up. I didn't quit. I had set a goal and done it. And was surrounded by 13,000+ other people who had in some way or another done the same and I was overcome with emotion.

The emotions, adrenaline, and excitement got me through the first few miles. Music playing in the background. New sights. The HOPE that our fourth running Mama would come running up beside me. It took me a couple miles to get over the disappointment of not having found her. I lost Rachel super early on, before the quarter mile mark. I suddenly had to change gears and realize that I was going to have to run this as a onesome. I was not prepared for that. I focused on finding a person to pace with. Granted, I ALWAYS pick the wrong ones. The undercover super runners dressed in unassuming, older looking person clothing. I fell into a comfortable pace. Miles one through six breezed by:

Mile 1 8:43
Mile 2 8:42
Mile 3 8:45
Mile 4 8:53
Mile 5 8:51
Mile 6 8:57

By mile 7, I was hot. I could feel the blisters forming on my feet. I don't have the take-Gu-out-of-pocket-open-eat-and-drink-water thing down. I have to walk through aid stations or else risk losing all contents of my pocket, drenching myself with water, and possibly choking on my Gu chomp. I had just watched the Men's winner haul past me. FYI: he won the race in ONE HOUR. Ass. And I was realizing that there was no way I was going to find my friends.

Mile 7 9:26

I had a brief burst of energy for mile 8.

Mile 8 8:51

And then hit a wall. I knew there was an aid station around mile 8 somewhere. Turned out to be closer to 8.5. I told myself I would slow down and walk through the water station. And did. And debated why I should run again. Walking was nice. Walking was comfortable. The music was good. And then I watched the most inspiring young man run past me in an Army shirt. And prosthetic leg. If HE COULD DO IT, certainly I could. I threw down my water cup and ran right behind him. Tears welled up in my eyes. I followed him for the next few miles.

Mile 9 9:33
Mile 10 9:12
Mile 11 9:16

At the completion of mile 11 I felt like I had NOTHING more to give but knew I was SO SO close. I also knew I had two miles left and has just crossed mile 11 at about 1:40. In my mind, I knew I could somehow pull off two miles at a 10 min./mile pace. I saw my sub-2 goal slipping right before my eyes. THIS is where I wish I had one of my running girls. THIS is where you could use someone by your side to push you. Encourage you. REMIND you not to give up. REMIND you that you are completely capable of this.

Mile 12 9:21

As we near mile 13 you can hear the music and crowds cheering on the finishers. I was finally welcomed by familiar sights I had seen while waiting for the race to start. I told myself to PUT IT ALL OUT THERE. THIS is what I had trained for. If I didn't leave it all out on the race course it would have all been a complete waste of time. Blisters burning my feet. Hamstrings tightening up. Left knee screaming. I put my big girl panties on and RAN. As fast as I could.

Mile 13 8:43
Mile .24 8:14

GARMIN totals: 13.24 miles, 9:00 min/mile average, 1:59:11.
Chip time: 1:59:03

I had done it. Sub-2 hour half: DONE.

As I gimped my way from the Finish, I watched others cross the mats. Two women hand in hand, one wearing an "I survived cancer" shirt, tears streaming down their faces. A young boy, likely around 10-ish running with his parents. The young soldier with the prosthetic leg. If I ever wondered, I no longer needed to. Runners come in all shapes and sizes. All different skill levels. The lucky ones, the really lucky ones, learn that running is so much more than putting one foot in front of the other. It's about being part of a community. Experiencing success. Learning about challenges while ignoring failure. It's about mental toughness, determination, and perseverance. Never giving in to excuses, self doubt, or life obstacles. It's having an I CAN and WILL attitude instead of an I could, would, or should attitude. It's about doing whatever it takes to get you to that start line. And across the finish.