Running the Rebel Challenge last weekend was a reality check. I suppose a runDisney event was probably not the place to start again after my running hiatus, but that’s how everything worked out. I finished the 10K and the half marathon in back-to-back days, so that’s a plus. My body felt like jello after and I hadn’t experienced that feeling since two years earlier when I had completed my first half marathon. My time was horrific, but I had a great time with the character stops and my running bestie, Laurel. I took the advice of a lactation consultant who advised me to drink tons of water even when I wasn’t thirsty, so I would be able to keep up my milk supply for Baby Dylan. Everything worked out as well as I could hope for… except for my time.
It sounds insane because I had fun and I know part of the jello feeling I had was more mental than my actual body. I heard 3:39 and my heart sank. Last year, on Super Bowl Sunday, I ran my PR of 2:28. I know that’s not the fastest time in the world, but for me, it was huge. A year earlier, I’d run my first half at 2:52. I felt as though I was making huge strides despite telling myself that my time was never a factor for me. I guess hearing my friends’ PRs of around 2:00 made me feel like I could push harder.
Then life stepped in. More specifically, I found out I was expecting. After that, I just plateaued and stopped training at all. I simply ran the races on my calendar and that was that. I had such awful all-day sickness (it’s not morning only, so why do we call it that?) and with two other children to care for already, I just didn’t want to run anymore than I had to. Pity party of one over here…. I kept telling myself how blessed I was to be pregnant again when so many others couldn’t even conceive one child, but it still just sucked.
Here I am how many months later and I felt like I had fallen off of a cliff time wise. I’ve been debating back and forth about returning to Surf City to see how far away I am from where I was last year and I just can’t seem to pull the trigger. It’s all fear. I’m the first person to tell myself that when you live in fear, the only person who loses is you and that’s the honest truth. I know it is. I just can’t seem to bring myself to register. I know I will either find out I’m not as far away from Laurie circa 2014 as I think I am or I will find out I’m basically kidding myself and I’m just a different person now. I’m afraid it’s the latter. This terrifies me with roughly forty-five days to go into my first marathon. I’m basically chicken. I can’t deny it. I totally am.
My running sole sister, Nadine is taking me under her wing and guiding me through the mental trenches I am in. She promises to help me restore the faith I once had in myself in time for the LA Marathon. She’s run well over twenty-five of them herself, so I trust her implicitly. We’re shooting for sixteen miles together on Sunday. This number doesn’t seem insane to me and I feel hopeful I can overcome this obstacle I have encountered. I probably sound crazy. In fact, I know I do. Fifteen half marathons later and I have doubt?
Come on, Laurie. You’ve got this. You can do it. You’re going to be just fine.
Pray for me.