Diary of a First-Time Mini Marathoner: Part I, The Emotions

It feels weird to call myself a "Mini Marathoner."  Strange.  I didn't think I could ever actually do it.

I attempted to sit down with my iPhone on Saturday afternoon and write a blog post about my experience.  And then it occurred to me that I couldn't even put together a coherent sentence. 

I also couldn't stop shaking enough to actually use a touch screen phone, but we'll look past that.

I'll go through the process as I went through it:

On Thursday night, Jayna came down with something.  She was running a fever of around 102 degrees.  She was fussy.  She wasn't eating.  And she went to sleep on the couch at 6:45pm. THAT, my friends, is unheard of.

So...what do I do now??  I've paid quite a bit of money to run a race on Saturday and here it is, THURSDAY, and my kid is sick.  My hope was that it was some sort of 24 hour bug.  Notsomuch.

She woke up a few times in the night and still had a fever in the morning.  Chris stayed home with her on Friday and ended up taking her to the doctor in the afternoon.  She tested weak positive for strep.  Greeeeaaaatttt.

What now?  Which one of us stays home with her??  I've obviously had a much more difficult time training for this, so I should stay home.  Chris had a shot of running a sub-2 hour race.  I didn't.  But this was sort of MY thing. I WANTED to finish.  But...there was NO way I was going to go downtown ALONE and park and walk to the race and run and finish and then walk back to the car and drive home.  NO. FREAKIN. WAY. 

It then crossed my mind that neither of us should go.  That way there was no guilt either way.  But that was stupid!!  I asked my mom if she minded keeping Jayna overnight regardless of the strep issue and she agreed.  So Jayna stayed with my mom and we were both going to run.

I spent my Friday night distracted by baking cupcakes.  I wanted it that way.  I didn't want to think about it.

I got up at 5am.  I ate breakfast.  I drank some milk.  And off we went.  We got downtown at around 6:15am.  There were already soooo many people there!  When I saw the corrals and the start line, my stomach dropped.  Port-o-lets were the greatest invention ever at that moment. :)

Chris and I had to split up around 7:15am.  I ran into a friend from high school, Jodi, who was in my corral.  We talked for a few minutes and that kept my mind busy.  And then more and more and MORE people piled into the corral.  Hi, agoraphobia!!  Fancy meeting you here!!

I kept my wits about me and eventually crossed the start line at 23 minutes into the race.  I stuck to my plan of 10 running minutes and 5 walking minutes.  There were many musical and dancing acts along the way, as well as an unbridled number of supporters.  It was truly overwhelming to see that much support from all different sorts of people who didn't even know me!!  At a couple of points, it became very emotional.

I stuck to my run/walk plan straight through mile 6. After the 6 mile marker, it hit me.  I was fatigued.  I was in some pain.  My muscles were tight.  And I had to pee like NO other.  I stopped at the bathrooms inside the track and hurriedly went and came back out onto the course.  Morale began to take a nose dive.

The track portion of the race was...horrifying.  The scenery doesn't change.  The asphalt is hard and seemingly more unforgiving than the street (even though I'm sure that isn't the case).  People are everywhere and won't get out of the way.  It began to rain.  Frustration and irritation were prevalent.  At one walking point around mile 8 inside the track, a man began talking to me:

Him:  Is it getting to you, sweetie?
Me:  Yep.  I'm tired.  I don't think I'll be able to finish.
Him:  Listen.  I'm 65.  This is my first Mini.  And I'm going to finish dammit! 
Me:  Good!  Good luck to you!
Him:  No...listen.  I'm 65.  I have a blister on my foot the size of Rhode Island right now.  How about you?
Me:  I don't know.  I can't feel my feet.  I could have a blister the size of.....
Him:  Texas? 
Me:  Yeah, thanks.  I apparently can no longer form...words?
Him:  Sentences, you mean?  The words seem to be coming out.
Me:  Sure.  Whatever.  It's all the same, right??
Him:  Not really.  Well, I'm 65 and I'm going to finish.  I saw you running earlier, but I'm only walking.  If I can finish so can you.  So...keep going.  AND DON'T LET ME BEAT YOU!!!  Now go run some more!!
Me:  Okay, sir.

He caught up with me again around mile 9, but I stayed ahead of him the rest of the race.  And I did beat him, but probably not by much.  I wish I knew his name. :)

At mile 9, I began talking to myself.  At mile 10, I cried.  At mile 11, I had to look down at my feet to make sure they were still there.  At mile 12, I cried again, but because I only had 1 more mile.

And when I crossed the finish line, I had to fight my emotions with everything I had to NOT cry.  I wanted to atleast get through all of those wonderful people who gave me my medal, a bottle of water, a banana, a granola bar, a cookie and some Gatorade.  I love those people like they are my own family.  Seriously.

I really wanted to just skip all of that.  I just wanted to go cry on Chris' shoulder.  I just wanted to see Chris.  I just wanted to see ONE FREAKING FAMILIAR FACE.  One constant and caring individual.

When he was in my sights, I totally lost control of my emotions.  I cried like a baby and I didn't care who knew.  There were so many things going through my head.

Those of you who know me know all the things that I've endured to get here...including, but not limited to a full body rash, extreme stress and anxiety, a toddler that I just want to do right by, a near-neglected family and household, the death of my dear Morgan, and the life of my dog Oliver who has suffered nearly as much as me through Moe's death.  When Morgan got sick at the end, I said, "I'll run this race for him.  He can't do it anymore, so I'll do it for him."  When he died, that became 125% more important.  And I did it.  I've had an incredibly difficult time with closure regarding Moe's death.  This experience has helped me turn a page in that chapter.  It's definitely not over, but it's progressing.

I don't think that there is one pinpointed reason that I cried.  I cried because I finished and didn't have to run anymore.  I cried because I FINISHED!!  I cried because I was in pain.  I cried because there were so many people around me.  I cried because there were so many people rooting for me and I didn't let them down.  I cried because I finished regardless of the naysayers.  I cried because I remembered my promise to Morgan.  I cried because I could now go pick up my sick kid from my mom. 

And I cried because I felt like a different person.  A better person.  A more confident person.  A person who finishes what she starts no matter how tough things get.

I would like to say a sincere Thank You to all of you who believed that I could do this...because I certainly didn't believe that at several points throughout this journey.  You guys helped me through lots of hard times.  And for that, I thank you.

Also, a HUGE Thank You to all of my running friends who provided advice, training and cheering.  Zac, The Quags, KT, Chris.  You guys were the glue that held me together.  I hadn't a clue where to start or end and you guys helped me more than you'll ever know. :)

I will pick up running again in about a month.  There are things that have needed my attention since January and it's time to address them.  Some painting.  Some baking.  Some harmonica.  A toddler.  A household.  And most of all...MY MIND NEEDS A BREAK.  Even my half-assed training routine was more than difficult.  I can't imagine for those of you who ran well and trained twice as much as me.  When I begin running again, it will be on a very light level.  I will see where that takes me and in October/November, I'll revisit whether or not I want to run another Mini.  If I decide not to, I'm okay.  And if I decide to do it, I'll be great.

***Note for those of you who care about stats:  My official time was 3:32:24.  I paced a 16:13 mile.  At mile 10, I was at 2:32:51.  It took me an HOUR to go the last 3 miles. I've taken a mental note.***

Best. Rug. Ever.

And it's new home is my living room. We'll make that cute little girl a Sox fan yet!!

Take me out to the ballgame...

Today is MLB Opening Day. Now, how many of you actually care? (insert cricket noise here...) Yeah, that's what I thought.

Well, dammit, I care!! The BoSox play the Rays at 2pm today...that is if it doesn't rain cats and dogs in Boston. Chris and I are leaving work early to go watch baseball. We never do things like this, so I'm sure it'll be fun even if the game does get rained out. And we get to go have a few beers. Soooo much better than working.

I could go on and on about the Red Sox and baseball in general, but I'll spare you all. I am smart enough to know that the bulk of my readers are not baseball fans. And the ones of you that I do know who watch baseball are effin' Cubs fans. That's worse than not being a fan at all. :)

Happy Opening Day, all!!