One year ago today I first set foot to pavement...the goal was to attempt a half marathon for my dad. I had a deal with myself; the second the 1/2 marathon was done I would never have to run again.
You see I hated running. Every step was agony, every breath burned and when I finished every muscle screamed in pain...and that was after running 1 block. That was how far I managed to run 1 year ago today...I walked out the remaining 3.75 km.
I was determined that if my Dad could fight to try and stay with us I could suck it up and learn how to run. No matter how bad I felt I always knew he'd felt worse and that gave me strength I never knew I had.
There were days that my feet screamed in agony and I thought I couldn't make it another step but then one of my feathered friends would show up and lead me down the street...a sign to keep on going...a sign from my angel.
A funny thing happened while I embarked on this journey. I started to like who I was. I saw the inadvertent changes to my body that running would have; I realized that running gave me and outlet for my grief & anger.
As the MB 1/2 approached I realized that I'd fallen in love with running...and I'll admit I liked the looks i would get from friends when I finally told them I was going to run a 1/2 marathon. The "YOU??? You're running a 1/2 marathon???? You're NUTS!!" looks.
I still get those looks but I think that the people in my life have learned to just accept that they don't see the appeal in running. You can't argue with success. Running has changed my life in a way I never thought possible. I look in the mirror these days and I don't recognize myself...and I don't mean the weight loss.
Never in a million years did I see myself at a place where I would be looking for a 1/2 to run when I'm on a road trip. If you'd told me I would have spent my 36th birthday doing a 17km trail ride I would have laughed in your face. And if you'd told me I would decide to challenge my self with a half marathon in February I would have called a doctor for you, since CLEARLY you'd lost your mind.
That's what the above picture is of...a medal from the Hypothermic Half that I ran this past Sunday (my 3rd 1/2). It was the hardest thing I've ever done and it took me 45 minutes longer than the one that I ran in the fall. I ran for almost 4 hours and it nearly killed me, I wanted to quit 3 miles in, and by mile 6 I thought I would be found by the 3rd wave frozen in a snowbank. Then shortly after Mile 10 I hit the hill from hell that made me realize the Bishop Grandin overpass had been a cakewalk.
That being said I loved the experience and to those curious, I would definitely do it again. Truth be told I'm itching to get out and run today...you see I can see pavement...there's melting going on and after spending the winter running on snow and ice the thought of being able to feel that asphalt beneath my feet again excites me.
I'm going to have to settle for the crossramp though...I have to take the week off from running after the 1/2. On deck? The Winnipeg Police Half May 1st!
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