What a difference a month makes

BEFORE

My husband is pretty awesome.  He didn't blink an eye when I asked him if he was ok with me running a race on Thanksgiving morning.  I was excited for the opportunity to run another 10K race- this time without anxiety or fear of diarrhea! Just a month after my first 10K I was full of confidence and ready to go!

So I signed up and got a few people from my church to join me.  Two days before the race, my husband and our neighbor, George, decided to do the 5K race.  I was surprised but didn't say much because I wanted to be careful not to bring any judgement or nagging when it comes to exercise and/or running.

The night before Thanksgiving my husband waited until the last minute to make his secret recipe pecan pie for our family get togethers. And for some reason, he let our three year old stay up to help him.  I should have said something- little did I know that letting it go would be creating such a big problem the next day.

PRE-RACE

Thanksgiving morning was freezing cold.  I was thrilled and excited to run. We had to drag my son out of bed to don his layers for the race.  The plan was for my hubby and George to walk with Asher and they would take the jogging stroller in case Asher would rather ride.

Because they signed up at the last minute, we joined the crowds to pick up their packets that morning.  Did I mention that it was cold? Brrrr! All the local races I had done before this only had a few hundred runners- I was unprepared for how many people were there to race.  Had all this been going on in years past while I slept in?

We slowly meandered towards the start area and chatted away.  All of a sudden, they were making announcements over the loudspeaker.  The race was about to begin and I was stuck at the very back behind throngs of people.  I gave everyone a quick goodbye and quickly left to get in as good a position as possible. 

THE RACE ITSELF- MY EXPERIENCE

There was the gun and we were off! It was so frustrating to try to get going past all the people who were walking, sometimes 3-5 people across.  Hadn't they every heard of race etiquette?

About two miles in, the 5k route turned off while the 10K'ers continued in a different directions.  I looked down the 5K route and smiled, so happy that my husband and son were enjoying this awesome morning- what a terrific way for our family to start our holiday! The crowd thinned drastically and I just focused on my race. At one point I pulled out Carmex for my chapped lips. However, when I tried to squeeze it out, it was frozen solid!

Soon the 10K route made its way back to the 5K turn off for the last mile or so back to the finish line.  I was tired on the last stretch of hill and internally cursed the race directors who always managed to squeeze in these darn hills at the very end! How many times had I driven this stretch of road.  How had I ever noticed how steep it was? I started to worry about my family who may have been waiting out in the cold for me- surely they were warm and waiting in the car? So I sent a quick text to my husband who told me they were about to cross the finish line. What?  See you soon!

At the finish, I was feeling great but only saw my family and the timekeepers.  The awards were going on in another area and most of the people were there. The race photographer has also moved to the awards area. I grabbed some water and a banana, but the bananas were frozen solid.  So I turned to Mr. Man, eager for news of the great time they had.  Instead of a glowing story, he gave me one of those looks.

THE RACE ITSELF- THEIR EXPERIENCE

For the last hour Asher had been screaming for me.  He started the moment I said goodbye right before the race start. He didn't want to walk.  He didn't want to run.  He didn't want to ride.  He just wanted his mommy.  Eventually poor George grew exasperated and went on ahead with the stroller.

At one point Asher sat down in the middle of the road and refused to move. That's when the deputy who was bringing up the rear of the 5K racers took pity on my husband and offered him a ride. They rode in the car for the majority of the race route until they caught up with George and the stroller. This time Asher got right in and fell asleep.  He was still rolled up into a ball snoozing away in the stroller as Mr. Man told me the story and slept all the way home too.  

The looks on their faces at the finish line say it all.  When will this be over... and I'm never doing this again.  

Neither George nor my husband has asked to join me on any other races- and I can't say that I blame them. 

Running Store Newbie

About six months into running, I decided it was time to go a real running store to buy some shoes.  I was training for a half marathon and wanted plenty of time to break in my new shoes before my big race.

I had just completed my very first 10K race and had nervously eyed the set up of my local running store.  But I was way too shy to actually go talk to anyone with all those real runners around. So a few days later I drove up to New Sole Running in McDonough. I had tucked my well worn Skechers GoBionics into my purse in case they wanted to see what I had been wearing.

Skechers GoBionic Run

I remember sitting in my car for a few minutes gathering the self confidence to go into the store.  Finally I made it through the front door and I was greeted by owner, David Jonson. We chatted about running and my goals.  I was embarrassed to say out loud that I was training for a half marathon.  I was obviously overweight and not in great shape.  I was afraid it sounded silly to have such a lofty goal. But Dave didn't seem to notice.  Instead, he and his employees spent over an hour with me checking out my gait and helping me try on lots of shoes.

At first I didn't want to try on some split toe shoes by Topo Athletic. They were just... well, pretty weird.  Why waste time trying on something that I would never buy?  But I did, and I did! This is the first time I have ever purchased shoes without any thought of the color or style- but purely on how they made me feel.  I instantly fell in love with the Boa Closure system.  No more too tight or too loose laces for me!

Topo RR's in red

I am so grateful for the patience, kindness, acceptance and encouragement I found at New Sole Running.  That's why I keep going back! 

One step at a time... Amy

Goblin Gallop- My first 10K race and first nightmares of having diarrhea in public

THE GOAL

After completing "Couch to 5K" and completing my first goal of running an entire 5K race, I was ready for my next goal.  It seemed only natural to pick the 10K distance as my next goal. So, I chose the "Goblin Gallop" a local race that benefitted a medical clinic for needy families.

THE NIGHTMARE

I continued with my training and all was going well until a few days before the race when I saw this horrible photo on the internet. This lead to googling and discovering many blogs and articles about getting runner's trots.  And I even had some bad dreams about this happening to me!

A few days before the race I went and drove the course.  It was through a neighborhood so there were no bathrooms at all unless a kind resident decided to take pity on you and welcome you into their home to do your business. I became consumed with worry.  This would be my longest run to date and I was so worried about having to go to the bathroom... and also worried about being LAST.

A friend and I decided that we wanted to wear costumes but didn't want anything elaborate because I was already too worried about the race itself. It's pretty ironic that I was consumed with nightmares of pooping my pants and our "costumes" consisted of Depends undergarments and a sharpie marker proudly proclaiming that "We've got the runs!"

THE RACE
The morning of the race finally arrived and it was cold and rainy.  A few minutes before the race started we decided to ditch our diapers in case they swelled up in the rain. We lined up with the crowd and I prayed that they 14 times I had used the bathroom since I woke up that morning would do the trick.

The first two miles were with a large crowd because many were running a 5K course.  When the 5K crowd headed back towards the finish line, things thinned out significantly. Our course had us running all the way to the front of the neighborhood, then turning back to run all the way back.  Soon I had other runners on their way back on the other side of the street.  I admired their costumes and running form.  None of them had pooped their pants.

LAST
My side of the road got more and more lonely and the runners grew further apart. I started to fixate on my other worry... was I last? Was there anyone behind me? From time to time I would look back to try to hopefully catch a glimpse of all those runners who were so much slower than me.  But, I never saw anyone.

So, I started to rationalize and tried to talk myself into not being crushed with disappointment.  It's ok to be last.  I might be last, but I'm not on the couch.  Who cares if I'm last? I've lost 40 pounds and many pant sizes.  No one can judge me or put me down for being slow... look at how far I've come!
Soon, coming in last was not the worst thing in the world.  I was beginning to embrace the idea of being last.

Finally, I reached the turn around point and started heading back towards the back of the neighborhood and the finish line. Each time a shuttle bus would pass filled with people who had already finished their race I would repeat my mantra, "Being last is not the worst thing that could happen to me.  Finishing this race is a victory even if I am last!" And that's when it happened.  In the distance on the opposite side of the road a small figure appeared... running towards me... still heading to the turn around point... it took a minute for it to sink in... I was not last! I was filled with such exuberance and a joy that can not be explained with words. I WAS NOT LAST!!!! I strained my eyes to see who else would be heading towards me.  But no other figures were coming my way. I was not last. I was next to last.

As the lone figure grew closer, I recognized that this person was clearly a senior citizen. The only reason I was not last was that I was beating a grandma.

I remember coming around the final curve towards the finish line.  A large crowd was waiting on the shuttle bus to take them to their cars.  They looked my way with confusion on their faces- people are still running?!? I ran past them.  All the food and festivities were in another area, so no one was at the finish line. But that's ok.  Because I was. I crossed the finish line. I didn't have diarrhea. I wasn't last. And that was a victory to me.

AFTERWARDS
I went to enjoy my free banana and water and other goodies they were giving away.  I clapped and cheered for my friends who won age group awards. And I cheered for the grandma who came in last place... she was first in her age group and beaming with pride. I guess being last isn't so bad after all.

One step at a time!

My first running goal- CHECK!

THE GOAL

I remember the day I spoke my first running goal out loud for someone else to hear.  Even as the words were coming out of my mouth, I almost felt embarrassed.  "I'm going to run an entire 5K without stopping." As soon as I said it, I regretted it.  This was too much.  Run 3.1 miles?!? How could I ever do that? What if I couldn't do it?

For a long time I didn't tell anyone else about my goal because I did not want to be embarrassed if I wasn't able to achieve it. But I continued doing my Couch to 5K program using an app on my phone. I ran and walked all over my neighborhood, often pushing my little boy in the jogging stroller I bought at a yard sale. Many times I wondered why I decided to work on this goal in the middle of the Georgia summer! 

As I progressed through the program, I decided on a local 5K race that would take place on a Saturday evening at the end of my training.  It was an evening race and I had to work that day at a training event.  I could barely focus all day because I was so anxious. I had just enough time to head home for a quick nap and to change for the race. While I was there I tried to explain my anxiety to my husband.  "What if I can't do it?!?!" I wailed. "Then you walk.  What's the big deal?" he replied.  

THE RACE

I arrived at the race in plenty of time and prepared for the start.  This was it! 

I hadn't checked out the race route and was surprised to find that it was an out and back, uphill on a gravel road.  And it felt like the hottest, most humid evening in August!

I felt discouraged to be running behind a couple who were wearing weight vests. They stopped intermittently to do burpees, lunges, planks and push ups... and they were smiling as if it was nothing and always in front of me.  Grrrr. Didn't they know I was using all the energy I had to keep running?

Finally I was almost at the end.  The course came behind a shopping center and would end in the parking lot in front of the stores.  I was ecstatic.  I was about to make it the the front of the stores and knew the end would be just steps away. Then I came around the corner to discover we still had to run around the parking lot before reaching the finish line. WHUT?!?  

There was a decent sized group of runners and walkers from my church and several others had arrived to cheer at the finish line.  My hubs and son joined them at the finish.  What a great feeling when I was so worried about achieving my goal to have the support of those who cared about and believed in me. 

After crossing the finish line I was on top of the world.  I didn't even care about my time.  I had set a goal that seemed to hard for an overweight, middle-aged woman like me to achieve.  But I worked hard and I did it!

How I Ran for the First Time (It was not exactly on purpose)

In the spring of 2013 I joined a large group of people from my church to support the local Pregnancy Resource Center by completing a 5K. My reasons for signing up had nothing to do with exercise or being healthy. As an adoptive mom, the Pregnancy Resource Center is near and dear to my heart. The only reason I signed up with my three year old son was to give them support.

The morning of the race I woke up to freezing rain and frigid temps. My husband suggested they might not even have the race because of the terrible weather. This made me even more determined to be there to show my support. So I dressed my son, Asher, in his long johns and warmest pants along with his fireman rain coat. I donned my worn out Nikes from the back of my closet and my Matrix jacket and one of my husband’s old baseball hats, grabbed our hand-me-down stroller and headed out the door. 

Yep.  That's me in the Matrix rain coat.

As we lined up outside with the other participants I felt very self conscious in my non-workout gear. Some people ran around warming up. Shouldn’t they be saving their energy for the actual race? I felt surrounded by thin and healthy women. None of them were wearing their husband’s baseball caps... and I was the only one in a shiny black rain coat!

As the race director gave instructions over the loadspeaker I shivered while straining to hear what he had to say. Before long, the race had begun and the runners were off. For the first few minutes I was carried along by the big blob of racers. But soon things thinned out as the actual runners pulled ahead and people like me were left behind.

My son loved all the activity- waving at the police officers at the intersections, and especially people he knew when they would pass by us. This race route went into some subdivisions, so there were lots of out-and-backs... many opportunities for us to see our friends who were ahead of us and I watched as many of them used run/walk intervals.

My fingers are numb...

Unfortunately, the weather never cleared up. It seemed to get worse. About half way through the race my hands were so cold and numb from the freezing rain that it was hard to hold onto the stroller to push it.  When would this thing be over?!? Then, as my three year old started to cry that he had to go potty, my desperation grew.  I started to run. 

I ran here and there just to get this awful race over with.  I ran here and there so I could get to a warm and dry place.  I ran here and there so poor Asher could go potty in the potty chair. 

As we reached the last stretch before the finish line a large hill loomed in front of us.  I thought very ugly thoughts as I recalled how nice and easy it was strolling down that hill at the start of the race.  My fingers and hands were aching as I stretched my arms in front of me to push that stroller and 35 pounds of screaming preschooler up the hill.  Once we reached the top, the finish line was in sight.  I had made it.  Within minutes we would be warm.  Asher could use the bathroom.  I had run up a hill. All was right within the world.

Then Asher was excited at the sight of the finish, he demanded to get out of the stroller.  My three year old was determined to run across the finish line.  And so we did.  Hand in hand. Me in my black vinyl Matrix raincoat and Asher in his fireman slicker while I tried to maintain control of the stroller with my numb fingers.  It was a triumphant finish.

Once we were done we dashed inside to the restrooms, only to have Asher tinkle on the bathroom floor.  Asher cried.  I stood there with his wet pants in my hands, but all I could do was smile.  I had run.

One step at a time,

Amy