103 Days Until the Disney Princess Half Marathon

 

Something amazing happened this morning.  I became a runner.  I can't pinpoint when it happened, exactly, but it did.  

 

Maybe it happened when my alarm went off  - 6:30 on a Saturday morning. 

 

Maybe it happened when I looked at the temperature and went anyway - 38 degrees as I was heading out the door.  

 

Maybe it happened when I double checked how far I had to go and went anyway - 8 miles. 

 

Maybe it happened when I wasn't terrified of the distance. I visualized the course in my head as I was going to sleep last night. Some of the visualization came from distant memories of riding the school bus when I was in elementary school, so my distance meter may have been out of calibration. But, I could see the run in my head....it was at warp speed....kind of like the race course video at the Rock and Roll Half Marathon Expo. At warp speed, it didn't seem that bad. Half of it was in familiar territory and the other half was familiar in a car but brand new on my feet. I never once doubted that I would finish the run.

 

It didn't happen when I was getting ready to go.  My pre-run routine was normal.  I got dressed in my super cute new black running pants, blue long sleeved shirt (weren't you kind of getting tired of hearing about my black one?), and my gloves because my hands have been cold the past few mornings.  I ate my peanut butter toast and my GU Chomps and headed out.  Nothing that screams "THIS GIRL IS GOING TO BECOME A RUNNER TODAY!"

 

Maybe it happened when the run was easy.  My feet and my lungs and my brain and my legs were working together in harmonious unison (oxymoron, I know....you can't have harmony if you have unison, but you get the point).  My legs started to get sore between 5 and 6 miles into the run.  I still had to go up and over a bridge and then go up and over it again to start heading home.  I never felt winded.  My toes didn't fall asleep.  Nothing started to hurt like the run where I ran 5 of 7 miles on legs that had given out.  It just all worked.  It felt good to be out there.  My pace felt decent (more on that later) and I actually enjoyed being out there.   I ran 2:30/1 minute intervals.  There were some times when I felt like I didn't need to stop to walk.  That happened 2-3 miles in.  (I took my walk breaks.... I didn't want to take the risk of burning out because I didn't walk early enough or frequently enough.)

 

Maybe it happened when I was MAD at my time. I didn't even THINK about the pace while I was out there.  I just ran (and walked and ran and walked....).   I crunched the numbers when I got home and my pace was over 14 minutes per mile.  I was angry.  The run felt too good to be that slow.  It irritated me so much that I made my husband drive the exact route that I took in the car.  I had originally mapped it on MapMyRun, but I think I changed the route a little bit when I was out there.  In the car, the route was 1/2 mile longer.  That doesn't seem like much, but it knocked 1 minute per mile off the time.  That made me happier.  It wasn't as fast as my shorter training runs have been, but I'll take it.  I kept pace for 8 miles....over and back over an overpass at 6 1/2 miles, on the road when there was no sidewalk, in the middle of the road when the road was crowned.  Granted, I sped up a little when I heard the gunshot at the far end of the dead end street and I slowed down a little when the three barking dogs came running across the yard at me, but over all, I kept pace. 

 

 

Whenever it happened, it happened.  I became a runner today.  Every run is not going to be like today's run.  There will be days when it's hard.  I'm 5 miles away from half marathon distance.  I still have 103 days to get there.  I'm going to be able to do this.  I'm a runner, not just a person who runs. 

 

Today's Stats:

8.4 miles 1:53 (13.4 minute miles)