Heavy Medals

I had not originally intended this to be as long as it is however I have perfected the concept of the "word vomit" in the last few years (thanks for the term MiMi) so now when I go to write something brief, it ends up turning into a saga.  Sorry in advance for this word vomit. 

So have any of you ever ran any races? I remember when I was younger walking 5k's with my mom.  It was always so much fun for me. I got a little older and for a while a friend and I would run the 5k while my mom walked it.  Then I got even older and I had no interest in running.  Who likes running? I was the one who protested every semester when I had to run a mile and get timed.  What does it matter how fast I can run? I detested running.  

My mom and I finishing the Devil Mountain 5k

Lazy & I at the Devil Mountain Race

That was until last year. Lazy Ass and I started by walking in training for a 5k, then I jumped into run/walking 10ks, and with no training I ended up competing in my first half marathon (20k- 13.1 miles) in October.  It was one of the hardest things I have ever done, I'm not going to lie I think it was harder than birthing my daughter, it was definitely more exhausting. Apparently people train for these things...I kept having people ask me "so how are you training for this?!" "Training?....uhh I registered. I have to train?" Why? I didn't train to run a 10k.  Why train to run a 20k?  Thats only like two 10k's put back to back.  No problem!  I finally planned a 10k  race a couple weeks before my 20k.  That would work as my "training".  It seemed logical.  Something to know about me is that I am extremely competitive.  I do not like not completing something.  To me that is worse than coming in last. I also do not like coming in last.  However with running I do my best to not race the other people that are running with me, well they tend to more run past me. Instead I race myself.  I race against my previous times.  So when I was injured in the Walnut Creek Festival Run just two weeks before my first half marathon, I did not do the smart thing and just stop.  Nope. I had to go and finish the last 2.5 miles.  The worst part was that I was timing myself and with the added walking my time was going to hell.  I was so angry with myself that I would end up running as best I could until it hurt then walking until I could maybe sort of manage to run again.  Not that this was all that different from how I normally pace my run/walk, except this time the running didn't just exhaust me, it hurt. But I finished.  Sadly the 7 year old kid beat me to the finish line by about 30 seconds. I did however beat the 70+ year old man that was way too old to be wearing those running shorts. That's something to be proud of right?

So what was this poorly timed injury? Well it was a pulled Achilles tendon.  I am not new to this injury.  I have torn my tendon before (once from track in middle school, and once from volleyball).  Its not a fun injury.  This was the point right before I would tear it.  I could feel the strain with every move I made.  See this is what I get for training. If I had just sat on the couch like I had originally planned before people put the whole "you have to train" idea in my head this injury may never have happened.  What's that you say? If I had actually trained I may not have injured myself? Thats silly.

I rested for the next two weeks keeping my tendon as comfy as possible, working on stretching and walking.  I was not going to miss this event.  Mainly because I had spent the time and effort (and cash) to register.  That was a lot of work filling out that form on the internet and clicking that send button. My brain was going crazy with mathematical formulas.  I figured out my slowest pace to finish under 4 hours, which was a requirement to be considered an actual finisher.  so 13.1 miles into 4hrs (240 minutes) was approximately an 18 minute mile average.  fantastic!  My leisurely stroll is at an 18minute/mile pace.  I had this in the bag.  I could walk the whole way and still finish with a few minutes to spare. 

In my corral waiting for the race to start.

I got to the race early and found my corral.  I have to say it was nice to be placed into corrals based on estimated pace.  It was great because then I could take a visual note of the people around me and do my best to stay with them.  My goal was to stick with the group of ladies wearing bright pink from head to toe.  I figured they would be easy to spot in the crowd. The adrenaline was insane.  None of the other races I had completed made me this hyped up at the starting line.  Even crazier- it took 12 minutes for my corral to get to the starting line after the gun was fired.  Thats how many people were there.  As with every race, I started out running as long as I could.  I didn't make it very far, which was fine.  I was actually feeling okay. My tendon was playing nice. I kept up my stride trying to not get too distracted by the live bands and all the people lining the streets cheering. I even met up with a nice girl who was running her first marathon.  Funny thing- she did this whole training thing for it.  With a trainer. We had the same estimated time of arrival for the finish line so I thought- let's hang out with this chick, she will make sure I finish on time.  Mile one down- 12 minutes. Sweet! This was going to be cake.  The next couple miles I averaged about 14 miles- closer to my normal time. Then my trained partner really started slowing down.  The next mile took about 20 minutes.  I freaked.  The math monkey in my head was screaming at me 18 minutes... you have to stay under 18 minutes!  So I explained to my new running partner what my math monkey is telling me and that we need to pick up our pace to finish in time.  She tells me to go ahead, and that she will catch up. That was the last time I saw here during the race. It was like one of those moments in a horror movie where everyone splits up and you know you're never going to really see each other again.  But I was determined to finish.

I was on my own again.  A lone runner on the road....in a sea of countless of other lone runners. Okay so I wasn't really alone, but it was lonely without someone to talk to the whole way. I was seriously rocking this whole Rock n Roll half marathon.  I had signed up for this tracking thing that would send out a text message as I passed certain points in the race with how long it took me and how far it was.  I asked Lazy as well as the BF and my mom to track me with the condition that if I stopped making progress that they call 911 and explain that somewhere along that 13.1 mile race there was an overweight, out of shape untrained fatty that had most likely died. I might sound like my fear was exaggerating, but I had a friend tell me a story that they watched a woman die of a heart attack a year earlier in the same race.  And apparently that woman looked like she was in good shape. I was scared I might not make it to the end of the race. I promise this tangent is going somewhere. 

So I've been making pretty good progress.  I am right on to finish under my goal of 3 hrs 30 minutes, and my tendon is not causing any problems... yet.  Right around the 8 mile mark I realized that the tape I had used to try to support my ankle was now doing more harm than good.  My swollen leg and ankle was causing the tape to be too tight and it was hurting.  I couldn't run at all.  So the next first aid station I came to I sat down and waiting and had them cut the tape off of me.  Man that felt good.  The circulation was doing better, and the pain was going away.  Unfortunately it took about 8 minutes for them to get to me and cut it off. I had time to make up.  I started out at a fast walk to see how my tendon was holding up without the support then took off running.  It wasn't bad at all, at first. By the 10 mile mark I could barely run, though I kept trying. What I had not thought about was the there people that were told to keep track of my progress. I pulled out my phone to check my pace and realized I had a bunch of texts, "Are you alive?......Hello?......Should I call 911?" Ooops, my time had really suffered from the stop at the first aid station and having to walk so much- I had not passed the next marker at the same pace and no one had heard from me. Although I must say...no one actually called 911.  What if I needed help?! Thanks people. Luckily I was fine and just moving slower.  After what felt like forever I recognized some familiar territory, I was nearing where I started the race.  I was close to the finish.  People were walking on the sidewalk in the opposite direction with the medals around their necks yelling "NOT MUCH FARTHER KEEP IT UP!" The adrenaline hit.  I ran as much as I could, I was going to make sure I was running when I crossed that finish line.  

By the way those people need to think about their definition of "not much farther" it felt like the farthest part of the race even though I was only a mile away.  It took forever.  But I made it.  I ran across the finish line and was handed my first medal for running ever.  In that moment I was so proud of myself, I just completed 13.1 miles in 3hrs 28 minutes. Thats two minutes under my goal that I gave the event management when I registered.  Two minutes under with an injury. I was so excited.  I started walking around the finishers area.  My ride had not quite made it back with all the traffic so I just kept walking in circles.  I had one of those moments where I was worried if I stopped moving I might just pass out. About 20 minutes after I crossed the line and was walking trying to figure out a good place to be picked up, I saw my "partner" from the beginning of the race.  She was so not happy.  She was on the phone, swearing up a storm.  "F them for not giving me one...so what if it was over 4 hours, I still crossed the finish line.  I paid the money...".  Part of me felt so bad, I know if that was me I would had been pissed, but I think I would have been pissed with myself for not finishing in time, not the event staff.  Although my smart ass side got the better of me, all I could think was "ahh...so thats what training gets ya...." It made me realize that all the training in the world cannot replace determination and self motivation. 

Right after the race..Man I look good after 13.1 miles.

My first Medal! 

So now a new year is upon us and there is a new goal.  Last year it was to compete in and finish my first half marathon. This year it is to complete at least 2 in the Rock n Roll series so I can pick up a "Heavy Medal"

Complete 3 races and get the Triple Crown Heavy Medal

Complete 2 races and get the Rock Encore Heavy Medal

So along with some other races, I am hoping to add one of these amazing medals to my collection.  The first race I am hoping to complete is in just a few short weeks. And you guessed it...I haven't been training.  The first one is in Pasadena on February 19th.  The next rock n roll event I am hoping to make is in June in San Diego, and finally I will bring it home to compete in the San Jose event in October.  The first two will greatly depend on traveling and whether I can afford it or not but plans are in the works to make them happen!  I really cannot even begin to explain the excitement from finishing one of these things.

So are you still here reading?  Thanks.  Thanks for making it all the way through the entire word vomit that is this post.