Starting From Scratch

I ran my first half marathon in the fall of 2009.  I registered for it in late spring, and at the time I could only run 4 miles.  I was terrified, but I wanted a challenge.  For the next three months, I ran every step of my training plan, which caused me to run in torrential downpours and blistering heat (not at the same time, duh).  I didn’t know what to do, so I followed training and nutrition plans to the very last step and calorie. 

I remember training for that half marathon back in 2009.  Each week my long run increased by a mile or so, and each time I remember being both shocked and thrilled with my own accomplishment.  One Saturday my long run was 8 miles.  At that point I had run 6 miles a lot, and 7 miles once, but never 8.  I don’t remember a lot of that specific run (sorry to disappoint you with lack of detail, but I’ve done roughly 600 runs in the last 4 years; the particulars of each of them starts to mix together after a while), except for one part.  When I got to exactly 4 miles, I stopped for a quick second to eat a gel and drink some water (to this day I still haven’t mastered running and – doing anything else at the same time, actually).  As I sucked down the vanilla Gu (I pretty much hate every other flavor gel, so I’m going more on probability here than actual memory), I looked around and realized something.  I was going to make it.  I knew that I was absolutely going to finish an 8 mile run that morning.  It was also the first time that I told myself that I was also going to be able to complete the half marathon.  Me, the worst athlete to ever own a pair of sneakers, was going to succeed at her task of running 13.1 miles in one fell swoop.  I think that’s also when I realized that I was going to be successful at staying at my goal weight – forever.  I was going to do it.

I finished my gel and water, turned around, and practically skipped the 4 miles home (OK, it was grueling, but let’s stick with the skipping image; it’s more fun).  A few months later, I ran that half marathon.  Of the 9 half marathons I have completed to date, that one was my third slowest, beating only one that I ran one summer in 90 degree heat, and the one I ran this past March on a broken foot).

1st 1/2 Marathon, October 2009

I hadn’t thought about that specific run for a while.  But, it popped into my head on Saturday.  I’m currently working on my last ditch effort to run the NYC Marathon in November.  After my injury, I had to start from scratch.  At first I could only go on brisk walks, and then I graduated to run/walking until my foot gets strong enough to not crack again under my own body weight (the thought of which does nothing for a person who knows she’s capable of being 70 pounds heavier, and wondering how many bones she would have broken had she taken up running when she was still fat).  I am using a complete newbie training plan, and I had to alter it since it was 18 weeks long and I started running 16 weeks before the marathon.

My long run on Saturday was 7 miles, the first substantially long run since I had started over.  For this run I had to alternate between 3 minutes of running and 2 minutes of walking.  When you are used to running without breaks, run/walking can be a bit tough.  Your freshly healed foot thanks you for the relief from the pounding, but your uninjured brain wants to tell your legs to switch to a full sprint.  Fortunately it was a pleasant day, sunny with a nice breeze, so I kind of lost track of what I was doing and just enjoyed the scenery and the feeling of my body moving more than it had been able to for over 3 months.  I listened for the beep of my watch telling me to switch from running to walking or vice-versa, but other than that, I just got lost in my own workout.

I looked at my watch periodically to check the distance.  When it registered 3.5 miles, I turned around to head home.  And that’s when I thought about that 8 mile run 4 years ago.  I had that same feeling of self-accomplishment that I had had that morning when I was eating a vanilla Gu at the half way point of an 8 mile run.  I was going to make it.  I was going to complete this 7 miles.  I realized a bigger victory, though.  I was back.  I wasn’t running the way that is my usual style, but I’m getting closer.  My walk intervals are shorter, my distances are longer.

In a few months I am going to run a full marathon (knock wood, stroke your rabbit’s foot, touch a horseshoe, anything that will bring me good vibes that I don’t get injured again).  My time won’t be as good as the two marathons I have completed (one officially, and one un-officially).  But it doesn’t matter.  I will succeed.  I know that I already have.