{half-marathon}

A few months ago, my life changed, when Erica suggested that we train for and run a half marathon. At first I thought she was totally crazy, and then after seeing the training schedule, I knew she was. I had been running for years, but never more than my usual 3-4 miles, and always just as a necessary form of exercise. I just couldn't imagine it. But, the idea took hold. I knew that it would it be a challenge, and the thought of be being able to accomplish something difficult was really appealing. So, I agreed.

It was one of the best decisions I ever made.

...........

The morning of the race came early. I think I was up every hour the night before, nervous that I wouldn't wake up to my alarm, and anxious for what inevitably would come. Some of my closest friends were also running that morning, and it was wonderful knowing that they would be there with me. We met in the lobby, then drove over together, so our families could meet us at the finish line. When we got to the car, we saw that it had been decorated by one our friend's husbands, and it was the perfect way to start the day.




At the start line, it still seemed very surreal. I wasn't really nervous, just anxious. I knew I had trained well, and that I was prepared, but it's amazing how the chip on your shoe and bib on your shirt can affect you.

Suddenly, we were moving, and the race was on.



I had been warned to not start too quickly--to stay within 10 seconds of my normal pace for the first part of the race, keep my adrenalin under control, and prevent hitting a huge wall later. So, I started out running what I seemed to be my regular pace. I didn't see a mile marker 1, but when I checked my watch at mile marker 2, I was running a little more than 1 mile per minute faster than I should be. So, I started running at what I thought was a slower pace, but by mile marker 4, and then 6, I was still maintaining that faster pace. On one hand, I was thrilled that I had just run that far at that speed, but I also knew that I had been warned for a reason.

It was a cold and very windy day, and by mile 7, it was about to take a turn for the worse. The course went right up to and along the shore of Lake Michigan, which was a beautiful sight. The lighthouses, white-capped waves, and sandy beaches were lovely to look at, but I would have enjoyed them a little more had the wind not been so fierce. It was blowing so hard that it was all I could do just to propel myself forward, and keep the sand out of eyes. It was a rough couple of miles, and by mile 9, I was tired. Really tired. I could also tell that running those first 6 miles so quickly was starting to affect me. At that point, I knew I just needed to keep running--no matter what. I also soon discovered that the description "flat course" is very subjective. It was a lot more hilly than I had expected, or trained for, and it was an added challenge the last few miles.

With about a half mile to go, and not much left in me, I looked up and saw Rick.I was so glad to see him! He started running with me, and it was just what I needed to get to the finish line.

Once I crossed, Ryan met me with Gatorade, water, and a big hug. I loved that he was so proud of me. It's been so important to me that my kids know that I did something hard--that I worked for it, put in the effort, and succeeded. I want to be that example to them, so that moment really meant a lot to me. My dad was able to come on this trip with us, then be right there at the finish too, and I wouldn't trade that for anything.

I made my way over to the rest of my family and friends, so I could help cheer the next of my friends to come across the finish line. When the last of us came around the bend, we all went out, linked arms, and ran with her to the end. It was one of the most amazing moments, and one I will never forget. We all worked so hard to get to to that point, and I was so proud of each one of them.



Crossing the finish line was indescribable. Running 13 miles is totally empowering.

I'm already planning the next one.