Crazy Running Goals
I’m not sure what motivated me to sign up to run a half marathon. Maybe I was intrigued by the idea of running 13.1 miles, maybe I wanted to prove to myself that I could finish, or maybe I just had one of those insane snap decision moments to do something at least a little bit crazy. I told myself when I signed up that I just wanted to get in shape physically but in retrospect I think there was some deeper reason I made the decision. Either way my blaring alarm woke me up at about four thirty AM that crisp July Saturday morning to do one of the hardest things I have ever done and learn a lot about myself and my capabilities in the process.
I lay there for a minute, eyes closed, bracing myself to get out of bed when a voice in my head whispered, “Why did we decide to do this? No sane person would ever CHOOSE to get up this early on their Saturday off to run!” I didn’t know how to respond to the voice, because truthfully, in that moment I was thinking they were right! I had nearly made the decision to stay home and sleep in when that same motivation that drew me to sign up for the half marathon almost pulled me out of bed.
As I sat up and as I slid out of bed my red blistered shoulders screamed in protest and the voice in my head chimed in suddenly saying “Are we sure we want to run 13.1 miles with this sunburn? What if the blisters pop and get worse?” Ignoring the voice completely this time I got dressed in the black shorts and white tank I had set out the night before, wincing as the tank top settled on my blistered and damaged shoulders. Once my shoes were on I jumped in the car and drove to the park where the finish line would be to board the buses that would take me to the start of the race.
A few hours later I found myself starting to run with all of the other crazy people that had signed up for the race. The race would lead us out of the magnificent Hobble Creek Canyon and wind through Springville ending at a park in town. Due to the fact that I hadn’t trained well for the race I wasn’t sure how fast I should be running to start off. Settling into a leisurely jog and listening to some of my favorite tunes I settled into a comfortable pace. I noted how beautiful of a morning it was, the mountains were as majestic as ever and as the sun peeked around the mountainside I was reminded again how amazing a mountain sunrise is. I ran the first 3 miles without any issues and gratefully took a cup of water from the first water station. I kept running as I drank and spilled all down the front of my shirt as a result. The voice in my head laughed hysterically, mocking me.
At about mile six, I started to feel some pain in my feet and when I examined my shoulders I found the blisters that were there from the sunburn had started to pop. The voice in my head started to complain more heavily, “This is not fun. This is painful! Our feet hurt, the sunburn is getting worse and it’s getting hotter and hotter. Can we PLEASE walk for a minute?” Admitting weakness I obliged. By mile eight I was alternatively walking a short distance and running a short distance trying to maintain what little integrity I had.
“OWWW!!! That hurt! What is that moisture in our left foot?” complained the voice. Gritting my teeth I acknowledged that the blister that had formed on my left foot had evidently popped. Trying to hide my limp, I slowed to a walk while the voice continued to gripe about the heat and the pain my body was now in. Glancing at the mile marker up ahead I noted that I was about two miles from the finish line. I groggily wondered if I would make it. The voice replied with a scoff and a stern “No!”.
Right at that moment a short middle aged woman ran up beside me and started walking. “Wow it’s hot today!” she commented.
“Yeah it is” I gasped trying to hide my wheezing, “Is this your first half marathon?”
She smiled and replied “No actually, I lost count at about 50, you?”
“This is my first.”
“Oh! This is easily the worst part! If you can make it past mile 12 you’re golden! The finish line makes it all worth it!” She enthused giving me another smile.
I grinned back and gaining some more resolve and motivation from her encouragement stated, “I’m going to run on ahead and get this over with! It was nice to meet you and thank you for your help!” She laughed and waved me on as I jogged or rather limped ahead, still nursing my aching left foot.
As I passed the twelve and a half mile marker the blister in my right foot burst filling my sock with warm liquid and awakening the monstrous voice again, “I AM DONE! This is pure torture. We are NEVER doing this again!” I just smiled and continued onward. Limping heavily now and beginning to feel some pain in my right hip from running awkwardly I turned the corner and saw the park where the race was to finish.
Through my hazy, somewhat delirious eyes, I took in the sight before me. There was a big inflatable finish line with the race clock ticking on it. Big balloons littered the last few hundred yards to the finish line and as I got closer I could see a smorgasbord of Gatorade and water bottles just beyond the finish line. There were people everywhere, and every time someone crossed the finish line they cheered ecstatically.
Motivated by the sight I hurried my pace and as the finish line loomed closer and closer the excitement building in my chest grew larger and larger. As I crossed the finish line I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I had done it. I had ran 13.1 miles. It was one of the hardest things I had ever done but as I was handed my medal and grabbed a gatorade I felt the warm calming feeling of accomplishment that I had hoped for. Likewise, the voice in my head purred with contentment, all feelings of animosity toward me and my decision gone.
I still to this day am not sure why I signed up for that half marathon and when I think of that day I still remember all of the terrible moments in vivid detail. There is no way to compare the feeling of accomplishing something so difficult. That moment was one of the most rewarding moments of my life. Moments like that are what life is all about; overcoming our difficulties and silencing the voice in our heads telling us we can’t do something are what help us truly grow. Running that half marathon was one of those rewarding experiences for me.
I lay there for a minute, eyes closed, bracing myself to get out of bed when a voice in my head whispered, “Why did we decide to do this? No sane person would ever CHOOSE to get up this early on their Saturday off to run!” I didn’t know how to respond to the voice, because truthfully, in that moment I was thinking they were right! I had nearly made the decision to stay home and sleep in when that same motivation that drew me to sign up for the half marathon almost pulled me out of bed.
A few hours later I found myself starting to run with all of the other crazy people that had signed up for the race. The race would lead us out of the magnificent Hobble Creek Canyon and wind through Springville ending at a park in town. Due to the fact that I hadn’t trained well for the race I wasn’t sure how fast I should be running to start off. Settling into a leisurely jog and listening to some of my favorite tunes I settled into a comfortable pace. I noted how beautiful of a morning it was, the mountains were as majestic as ever and as the sun peeked around the mountainside I was reminded again how amazing a mountain sunrise is. I ran the first 3 miles without any issues and gratefully took a cup of water from the first water station. I kept running as I drank and spilled all down the front of my shirt as a result. The voice in my head laughed hysterically, mocking me.
At about mile six, I started to feel some pain in my feet and when I examined my shoulders I found the blisters that were there from the sunburn had started to pop. The voice in my head started to complain more heavily, “This is not fun. This is painful! Our feet hurt, the sunburn is getting worse and it’s getting hotter and hotter. Can we PLEASE walk for a minute?” Admitting weakness I obliged. By mile eight I was alternatively walking a short distance and running a short distance trying to maintain what little integrity I had.
“OWWW!!! That hurt! What is that moisture in our left foot?” complained the voice. Gritting my teeth I acknowledged that the blister that had formed on my left foot had evidently popped. Trying to hide my limp, I slowed to a walk while the voice continued to gripe about the heat and the pain my body was now in. Glancing at the mile marker up ahead I noted that I was about two miles from the finish line. I groggily wondered if I would make it. The voice replied with a scoff and a stern “No!”.
Right at that moment a short middle aged woman ran up beside me and started walking. “Wow it’s hot today!” she commented.
“Yeah it is” I gasped trying to hide my wheezing, “Is this your first half marathon?”
She smiled and replied “No actually, I lost count at about 50, you?”
“This is my first.”
“Oh! This is easily the worst part! If you can make it past mile 12 you’re golden! The finish line makes it all worth it!” She enthused giving me another smile.
I grinned back and gaining some more resolve and motivation from her encouragement stated, “I’m going to run on ahead and get this over with! It was nice to meet you and thank you for your help!” She laughed and waved me on as I jogged or rather limped ahead, still nursing my aching left foot.
As I passed the twelve and a half mile marker the blister in my right foot burst filling my sock with warm liquid and awakening the monstrous voice again, “I AM DONE! This is pure torture. We are NEVER doing this again!” I just smiled and continued onward. Limping heavily now and beginning to feel some pain in my right hip from running awkwardly I turned the corner and saw the park where the race was to finish.
Through my hazy, somewhat delirious eyes, I took in the sight before me. There was a big inflatable finish line with the race clock ticking on it. Big balloons littered the last few hundred yards to the finish line and as I got closer I could see a smorgasbord of Gatorade and water bottles just beyond the finish line. There were people everywhere, and every time someone crossed the finish line they cheered ecstatically.
Motivated by the sight I hurried my pace and as the finish line loomed closer and closer the excitement building in my chest grew larger and larger. As I crossed the finish line I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I had done it. I had ran 13.1 miles. It was one of the hardest things I had ever done but as I was handed my medal and grabbed a gatorade I felt the warm calming feeling of accomplishment that I had hoped for. Likewise, the voice in my head purred with contentment, all feelings of animosity toward me and my decision gone.
I still to this day am not sure why I signed up for that half marathon and when I think of that day I still remember all of the terrible moments in vivid detail. There is no way to compare the feeling of accomplishing something so difficult. That moment was one of the most rewarding moments of my life. Moments like that are what life is all about; overcoming our difficulties and silencing the voice in our heads telling us we can’t do something are what help us truly grow. Running that half marathon was one of those rewarding experiences for me.
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