Halfsies

Just in case you haven't heard...


I RAN A HALF-MARATHON!

And that's the gospel truth.

I set a personal goal around May(ish) to run a half-marathon.  Chelsea and I signed up for the Mt. Timpanogos half-marathon on July 30th, but due to circumstances out of my control (refer to "Infectious Summer" post for further details), I changed my registration to the Mt. Nebo half-marathon on September 10th.  (And for those of you wondering, Chelsea did, in fact, run the Mt. Timp half-marathon on July 30th...in less than 2 hours!)  Shortly after the Mt. Timp race, I convinced Chelsea to run (yet another) race with me, aka Mt. Nebo.

We started training, although I'm not sure if you could call what I did "training".  Chelsea found this great nine-week schedule online, but due to my crazy-insane school schedule, it needed adjusting.  I didn't follow the adjusted schedule either.  My "training" consisted of running 3 or 4 miles here and there, usually walking more than running.

During the course of my "training", I decided I should get some running shoes of my own since I had just been running in Chelsea's old shoes...that were 1.5 sizes too big.  I convinced my mom to buy the new shoes for me, seeing as I have no income at this point in my life.  She made this deal with me: If I ran the race, she would buy the shoes.  If I didn't run the race, I would have to pay her back.

Ouch.

Despite my lack of training, as well as a lack of truly broken-in shoes, I woke up the morning of September 10th at 5:15 a.m. and headed down to Payson for the race.  I was terrified; so terrified, in fact, I forgot to eat or drink anything before the race.  Not smart.

The horn blew to signal the beginning of the race, and we were off.  Then my iPod fell out of my not-so-secure pocket.  Oops.  I fought my way through the crowd to retrieve it, hoping that it still worked.  To my delight, it did!  (Tender mercies!)  I switched on my "Running Mantra" playlist and started down the mountain with Chelsea.  We ran together the first three miles, then I sent her on her way to school those kids and old folk ahead of us.

I kept running, and running, and running.  For ten miles!  How I pulled that off, I'm still not sure, but I attribute it to the fact that it was downhill the first ten miles (it was easier to run than walk down the path).  As I hit the 10-mile marker, the course flattened out.  Crap.  I hate running on flat surfaces...I don't get anywhere!  Walking seemed like a great idea at this point, so I slowed down to a speed-walking pace.

Just after the 12-mile marker...Chelsea reappeared!  Hallelujah!  She brought along a banana and water, which I drank all of.  She gave me the motivation necessary to finish the race strong; it was a miracle!  As I crossed the finish line at 2:33:30, I collapsed on the grass.  I realized how much my knees hurt, my back hurt, my feet hurt.  And yes, my brand-new shoes had been spoiled by a large amount of blood from my feet.  At least I looked legit!

Three days later, I still can't walk, sit, stand, eat, or sleep without hurting.  But let me tell you, the pain is definitely worth the feeling of accomplishment!  I still can't believe I finished that strong!

Next half-marathon, here I come!