Fast forward to college when I had to quit competitive figure skating due to the demand of school, and I found myself running a 5k loop around campus and trying to convince anyone who would to join me. A few charity 5k races later, and I signed up for my first half marathon at Disney World where I ran 13.1 miles huffing and puffing to a 2:20 finish and swore I would never do a marathon. The rest is history.
As a runner that enjoys racing, I steadily improved with little effort as I didn't enjoy the discomfort of running fast. I would do steady 20 mile runs, "race" and finish with little effort given, and until this past weekend swore I would never do speed work or run until I puked.
After having to drop from the New Jersey Marathon to the Half Marathon due to a nasty virus (and a lot of disappointment and anxiety) I toed the starting line with many of my Dashing Whippet teammates sporting my shiny new singlet. Deciding to even wear the jersey was an internal struggle; as an obsessive perfectionist I tend to feel a lot of pressure to be "fast" and like I was not good enough to wear my singlet and represent the team. What if I ran slow, or had to walk? Would they judge me? I felt shame to already have dropped down to "only do a half marathon" as I describe it. Hesitantly, that morning at o'dark thirty of 3:30am I put on my team jersey and boarded the bus to Long Branch, NJ.
The best thing about being a Whippet is the support of teammates and always having someone to stand in a parking lot with you at 6:00am and take turns using porta-potties. Before we set out, my teammate Young asked me my goal. After feeling like I literally couldn't move my legs for weeks, I told him 1:55 which I knew was so out of the question and not in my tank of accomplishments for that day. Toeing the line, I just prayed to the universe that I could get through this in one piece and without walking. The gun went off, and I was off.
Mile 1 flew by as I maneuvered my way through the dense pack of runners and my watch beeped that my mile was 8:40. "Ok, gotta slow down I told myself." But by mile 5 after passing the pacers I swore I would stay behind and not slowing down, I decided I would keep it up as long as I could and although its bad, try to bank the time I was doing and positive split if I had to. I ate a pack of Honey Stingers chews 7 miles in and continued keeping a pretty steady 8:35 pace which was very surprising to me.
I saw the Whippet cheer team at mile 11 which boosted me up even more, and I cruised on. Mile 11.5 the half and the marathon split, and although I felt like I had a marathon in me at that point I was glad I had decided to drop to the half. Mile 12 my lungs started to burn but I knew I could make a big PR, and I "dropped the hammer" and crossed the finish in 1:55:05, over a 7 minute PR from my last half in October. Immediately, tears flooded my eyes as I was overcome with gratitude for my body, my team, training partners, and the power of believing in myself during that race. I really had not believed this was possible as I tend to run easy 24/7 in my training runs. I left NJ that day feeling something I had never really felt as a runner; strong, powerful, and like improvement was something I thirst for.
Moving forward, I have a new hunger for racing and improving my speed and stamina. It's time for speed workouts, more strength work, and recovering rather than running junk miles. It's time to get comfortable with being uncomfortable, and continue to smash new PR times in all my racing distances.
