You’re NOT Almost There

Just over three weeks ago, I ran my 14th marathon in my 12th state (almost 1/4 of the way to 50!!). The race was called the Pi Day River Rotation and took place in Lawrence, Kansas. I traveled to Kansas with my parents, who kindly drove the 9 hours so that I could relax and prepare my mind and body for the race. I knew this race was on a trail, but for some reason, I didn’t realize it was a single track mountain bike trail. While I love running on these types of trails, they’re not known for garnering fast race times. For starters, we had to do 7 total loops, 5 of them about 4.5 miles, the other two were shorter bookend loops.

Courses that involve multiple turns and changing directions do not bode well for this directionally-challenged lady. The Race Director recommended that runners not wear headphones, as this can lead to “not being fully present,” which can lead to getting lost. Clearly, this person has never met me. I do not need music to get lost in my own head. I can do that anywhere, anytime, especially when I am running. Aside from the course presenting a challenge in the format, the weather conditions were also less than ideal. It was cold and rainy (well, sometimes drizzling), which made the trails get more muddy with each loop. You can see that this is a recipe for a PR, right? Hahaha, not so much. I started out fairly strong, leading the women in the course for a couple loops, then remaining in second for the majority of the race. A short time after starting the 4th loop, I could see the top woman and I got excited because I was feeling pretty strong and thought I could catch her.

Well, that changed when I zoned out and missed a turn at some point. You might be wondering where the volunteers were on the course. Good question- I think they were also cold and miserable and thought we all had the course figured out by this point (again, they didn’t know me). If I were smart and not stubborn and anxiety-ridden, I would have simply turned around once I realized the pink flags were not lining the course anymore. Well, I thought I could just keep going and find another turn that would take me back to the course. Nope, definitely ended up doing an extra loop somewhere else and then walking up a hill to the crushed limestone trail by the levee to ask a hiker where I was. He wasn’t much help, but pointed in the direction he thought I should go, so I went that way. At this point, I was about 18 miles in, starting to cramp, probably due for some energy chews, but too upset to eat anything, and very, very cold. This moment in time was the closest I have ever come to wanting to just sit down and say, “I’m done.”

But, alas, I kept plodding along and praying to God to help me find my way. Eventually, I did (well, with some divine guidance). I got back to the course and made my way towards the aid station. Both of my parents were near that spot, so I just started crying when I saw them, telling them I had gotten lost. I got myself so worked up that my chest hurt and I was gasping for breath. One of the volunteers kindly encouraged me and told me I was a Badass and helped me get my head back in the game. I began my last loop, knowing I could finish. It wouldn’t be fast and I was no longer in the running for first female, but I just needed to get to the finish. I had pie waiting for me! Yes, pie. A pretty fun and unique finish tent treat if you ask me. This sweet volunteer made all of the pies for the runners. There was apple, pumpkin, cookies and cream, some weird marshmallow or Lucky Charm pie, and many other goodies. It all tasted delicious and the portable heaters were a Godsend. I got stretched out and massaged by another kind volunteer who confirmed that my left hip was “pretty angry,” which I already knew. It’s still pretty angry, but I’m trying not to think of that. I’m just remembering all of the good conversation with my parents, our good food, the card games, and the texts with my husband about how my son was faring at the VEX IQ Wisconsin State Robotics Championships. It was hard not to be there cheering him on, but I signed up for the race well before we even knew he would join the Robotics program at his school.

Anyway, this marathon reminded me that not only am I stronger than I realized, I have also come a long way from the Perfectionist who was battling eating disorder demons and criticizing myself every time I wasn’t “fast enough” or “strong enough.” Self-compassion and gratitude are beautiful things. I hope you all can nurture and embrace those things for yourselves. Love and light, Friends!

Crossing the Finish Line