Slow and Steady Wins the Race

I admit it.  I'm not the fastest at anything.  I'm not the slowest either, but that's beside the point. The point is that I am perfectly happy at being the turtle, enjoying everything and appreciating the good when it comes my way.  I feel fulfilled.

That being said, I ran a marathon on Saturday. My 10th!

I trained for months, got up early every Saturday to get in the "long run." I cross trained with swimming and biking. I lifted weights and stretched. And, of course, I still got the dreaded overuse injury, plantar fasciitis, in my foot. I'm giving you the background because when you say you've run a marathon to people that haven't done it, I think maybe they don't entirely understand the back story that gets everyone to that 26.2.

It's kind of like your wedding day. You plan it out for months in advance, choose locations, start working out harder to look fabulous, get invites ready, dress shopping, hair appointments, reception plans, honeymoon, and don't forget the DRESS. You do all of this and the actual event is usually just a few hours. Not that marathons and weddings have that much in common except both gave me blisters on my feet, but they are both big deals. Get it?

All of my friends PR'd (got their personal best times) on this marathon. I am so proud of them! With circumstances being beyond my control, this year my mantra was "finish strong." And I did. Yay me!

I started off strong too. At mile 8, I had to remind myself that I paid $80 to run it. At mile 11, when I saw a younger runner bawling like a baby while leaning against the first aid vehicle, unable to go on, I felt her pain and wanted to give up too.  At mile 13, I noticed that everyone that I ran next to had that same despondent look on their faces, the look that said, "We're only halfway?!?" and in my mind I was saying, "I really want that medal at the end!"  At mile 18, I thought, "I can do this, but it really hurts."  At mile 20, "You can't stop now!"  And eventually I made it to the last 3 miles where cheering crowds kept me moving.  A few running friends came by around mile 25 and pushed me to the end. Then I bawled too.  Only for like 5 seconds and then I was good.

 

Right after the race - I'm still standing!

 

When my son saw me after the race with my medal and asked, "So did you win, Mom?" I smiled and answered truthfully, "Yes. Yes I did."  I've read The Tortoise and the Hare and we all know how that race turned out.  I'm happy to say that I'm the good ol' tortoise.