Running Bravely

I did it. I did it! I DID IT!

If you have no idea what I'm talking about, read my last post. Or just keep reading this one.

I ran and ran and ran and ran Saturday morning until I couldn't run anymore. I have never run that fast in my life. I knew that I would have to come back and tell you all how the race went. The fear of saying that I didn't make my goal - that I didn't run fast enough to run 13.1 miles in two hours or less - kept me from giving up. I knew that you all were rooting for me from the sidelines, from your warm couches, or maybe from your dreams (it was 7:30 AM after all). But I knew I had to come back and tell you that I did it.

SO excited to see Trey on the sidelines!

When I hit mile 10, I started hurting. I knew that I couldn't go any faster than I was at that moment, and I honestly did not know how fast I was going. You see, I had big plans to listen to my favorite running music (Pentatonix & Anthem Lights) on Spotify, and to use the MapMyRun app to help me know my pace so I could make sure I was running about nine minute miles. You know what happens when you put 20,000 people and more in one block of one city? Your phone internet stops working. And both of these apps were run by my WiFi. So, for about sixty seconds panic set in. My wave was starting to run, I was coming up on the starting line, and I had no music and no way to monitor my pace. This is what we cheapos get for trying to use free apps! Daggonit. But all it took was about sixty seconds for me to get my act together.

This looks close to the end, doesn't it? I look beat!

I had worked so hard and so long for the results of this race that I knew I couldn't let a couple setbacks get me choked up. So I figured out another way. I pulled up my iTunes which had my old running playlist from a couple years ago, "Mommy Running" I called it, and listened to some tunes from Wicked, the musical, about defying gravity. That's pretty powerful stuff when you're trying to run as fast as you can.

My next problem to fix was measuring my pace. I knew that a family friend of mine who was running this race was close to the same pace as me. We weren't running the race together, but I had caught up with her before the race started and made sure to keep her in my sight. Until I lost sight of her. Shoot. Fortunately at that moment I saw a man with a sign on the back of his head that said "9:00". I assumed he was a "pacer" guy that helped everyone around him know they were running a nine minute mile. Right? Well I followed him for a bit, but then I lost him too. I was hoping I was in front of him, but I wasn't sure. So at that point I just kept running and hoping and praying that I was fast enough. It sure felt like I was because my legs were aching. But my mind was stronger. My mind reminded me that I was stronger than I had ever been - in my entire life - and of course, as I reached miles 11 and 12, when the going gets tough, I pulled out my last resort. When the music starts to sound like "blah, blah, blah", the crowd starts to blur, and my legs are on fire, my favorite verse gets me through. "I can do anything through Christ who gives me strength", Philippians 4:13. Seriously, y'all, it's powerful stuff and it works. My mind said this over and over and over...and then I saw the finish line. The clock above it said something like "1:59:42" and I couldn't believe it. I had made it. I DID IT.

What I realized later was that the clock I ran under had started six minutes before I even began running, since I started in a later wave. So in actuality, I had not only beat my goal, but I crushed it. My time was 1:53:43. About six and a half minutes faster than I had set my goal for and about 11 minutes faster than my personal record for a half marathon. And here I was planning my "I failed" blog post in case I didn't reach my goal. I was planning to talk about how it didn't matter because I had tried my hardest and I was in the best shape of my life. The fact that I ran this race at all and had shared my goal with you guys was good enough. And all that is true. However, I didn't have to write that blog post because I got to write this one.

Y'all, I DID IT! And if it wasn't for your support, I might not be saying that. Being brave and sharing my goal with all of you is one of the scariest things I've ever done as a runner, but it also led me to run harder and faster than I ever have. I have only just started writing, but in the season of being thankful, I am so grateful for the bravery that has come out of being brave enough to blog.

xoxo,

My Secret to Losing Baby Weight & Being a Nice Mommy

If you had asked me ten years ago If I liked to run, my answer would have been a big, fat NO. If you had asked me five years ago If I liked to run, my answer would have been not really. Looking back on my fitness journey this fall season, has inspired me to share how one goes about learning to love the art of running.

In high school I had never run more than a mile at a time. Running is exhausting! I was a dancer, a cheerleader, and I played a season of lacrosse in ninth grade. That involved running, but more sprinting, than anything. Running in short spurts didn't seem as bad.

In college I cheered on the all-girl club team for a year, and then I started running a couple times a week with my dear friend, Riva. We were both starting to see the effects of the all-you-can-eat buffet meals at D-Hall and without our daily sport practices to keep us in check, we realized we had to start working to stay in shape. Hitting up ol' UREC (our college gym) a couple times a week together became our "us time" so we could girl chat while we ran. But I never ran more than a mile or two. I didn't think little ol' me could handle it.

The days of cheerleading (2004). Now that's a good workout. 

After college and grad school, Trey and I got married and the budget was tight. I was searching for a teaching job and Trey was in dental school. So joining a gym was out of the question. Our apartment complex had a small gym with a couple of treadmills and ellipticals, so I would venture over there once or twice a week, whenever I was feeling like a couch potato. Then one day we got in a little tiff. I'd had to cancel a hair appointment in Roanoke, where we'd been visiting for the weekend, so Trey could get back to Richmond to go fishing with his grandpa and cousin. For some reason, I was pretty upset about the whole thing, and so I went for a run, not knowing that the rest would be history. I ran  four miles that day. Four miles. In my mind, I was a champion. An all-star athlete. And you know, I wasn't even mad with Trey anymore.

My first big race took place in Spring 2011 (a 10K in Richmond), which then inspired me to sign up for my first half marathon. Hey, if I can run 6 miles, why not run 13? That was my thinking. All you runners know exactly how that frame of mind works. That runner high, it's addicting! Before you know it, you've signed up for all sorts of things.

I trained that summer with my Richmond buddy, Kate, and in November 2011, I ran the Richmond Half Marathon. I was also five weeks pregnant at the time of the race (yes, I knew) and felt like a true warrior. My time was 2:09 (two hours, nine minutes). Once my runner's high wore off that day, I recall saying that I would never run that much again. I was done.

The morning of the Richmond Half Marathon 2011 with Kate (pre-children)

HAH! Fast forward to January 2014. Baby Samuel pops out on January 23rd and the next thing I know I've signed up for a half marathon in September with my childhood/college bud, Grace. We both had babies in January and were feeling extra large postpartum, as most mommas do. We wanted so desperately to get rid of that baby weight as soon as possible, and we knew that running was the fastest way to do it. Unfortunately, Grace and I live an hour apart, so training together wasn't the easiest. But fortunately, we both found running friends in our hometowns that helped us reach our goals of getting ready for the big day.

Several weeks postpartum, February 2014 -- BEFORE I could run again

In March 2014, I was back on the treadmill/pavement of Lynchburg and ready to build my mileage. I started at ONE mile. Yes, ONE. That's all I could do. But with some really good music (look up Pentatonix & Anthem Lights - they're AMAZING) and some new shoes and running gear, I was able to stick to my plan and grow my distance. I also found Morgan, who is now one of my dear friends in Lynchburg and my running bestie, who helped me get off the couch and back in the gym. She invited me to start doing some cross training classes and we would also run together when it fit our schedules. She is FAST and so I, too, got fastER. I also lost the baby weight, and had an excuse for downing large bowls of Edy's Rocky Road ice cream every night a couple nights a week.

On August 9, 2014, I ran 13.1 miles for the first time after having two children. And I ran it in 2:04 (two hours, four minutes). After having two babies, I was indeed, FASTER! I couldn't believe it. I felt like a beast. Those endorphins - the runner's high - whatever you wanna call it...that's why I run. The same reason others play sports, ride bikes, swim, dance, take group exercise...it's all about how AWESOME you feel afterwards.

Crossing the finish line at the Lynchburg Half Marathon 2014  - 7 months postpartum

As a mom, it can be really hard to fit in working out. We truly have to make it a priority. We have to remember that it's for us - for our health - physically and mentally. Fortunately, I get to stay at home now, and my children love going to the child care at the gym (now, that wasn't the case in the beginning - it took time!). On the weekends, I have an amazing husband who gets up early to feed the baby and take care of the kiddos while I go run. HE KNOWS that's my "me" time. As soon as I could work out again after having Samuel, I knew I needed to work out to stay sane. Being a parent takes an incredible amount of patience, and I need those endorphins to help me make good decisions in order to be a good mom. So I run. And you know how they say Rome wasn't built in a day? Well neither is a runner. I've had friends tell me that they're really impressed at how far I run and that they can't do it because they're not a runner. But you know what? Anyone can be a runner. You just have to believe in yourself and you have to want it. You have to want the results. And when you earn those results, it's all worth it!

So if you want to know who I am today, I would say I'm a mom, a wife, a teacher (on break), and a runner. Ten years ago I would've thought you were joking if you said I'd be a runner. Who in their right mind would run for fun? Now that I'm older and wiser, I know. I'm only in my right mind when I run.

xoxo,

PS. On Saturday I will run my last race of the season, the Richmond Half Marathon. This time, I'm going for a new personal record of 2:00 (two hours). I'm hoping I can come back to y'all on Monday and tell you I did it. Please pray for speed!