Also on Sunday- Posey lost a tooth. When she woke up and there was no money under her pillow she had a nervous breakdown. I quickly looked under the mattress and found the money. Weird that the tooth fairy would put it there…
You know how I feel about time (read “Are you fast?” FAQ here.) BUT… it is called racing. Which means it is about time (just not all about time.) Whenever people find out I’ve recently run a marathon, the first question is usually, “How’d you do?” or “What was your time?” Time is an easy way to measure achievement and improvement. It makes me cringe, though. It didn’t at first, but the longer I run, and the deeper I fall into this crazy world of running, the more insecure I feel about my times, and the harder I am on myself. It’s hard- I never started running to be fast.
These are my current PR’s (PR stands for Personal Record):
I wish I could say that these PR’s came easily and quickly. They didn’t. They are results of hard work everyday for months on end. This is why, whenever I PR, it’s bittersweet for me- so exciting because I beat my only opponent- myself, but there’s always a little part of me that wished the times were just a little bit faster. I am my toughest critic.
I’ve been hoping to get back to the Boston Marathon (a race you have to qualify for with a fast-enough marathon time.) I qualified for Boston 2016 in St. George in October, but I qualified by 47 seconds- and since they give registration priority to faster times, I don’t think this will be enough to get me there (this past year, those that qualified by 1 minute and 2 seconds and under did not make it in.)
Boston, for me, is not just about the marathon (although it is an amazing race in an amazing city.) When I ran my first marathon in 4:17, Boston was a superhero accomplishment that was awesome, but just unattainable, kind of like a gold medal in ice skating. My third marathon I ran in 3:42 and only then did it become something that was within my reach. Getting to Boston, for me, is about proving to myself that I can make the impossible possible.
One reason I am so scared to throw this out into the cyber-world? I will race in Utah Valley in June and I am terrified of letting others down. I already put enough pressure on myself. I hate finishing races feeling like I have to apologize. Mostly, I don’t want others to think that time is the only reason to race.
I am not proud of my insecurities. I am not proud of how much importance I place on the clock the longer I am a runner. But I am proud of how I have improved my time. I am proud of all my hard work. I am proud of the fact that when a nearly-impossible challenge is placed in front of me, I don’t back down.
Running- the teacher that keeps on teaching.
P.S. Tell me you saw the Run Like a Girl commercial during the Superbowl. A little embarrassed to say that I might have shed a tear. I thought of my own insecurities and how fiercely I will protect the tender egos of my two little girls.
Check it out:
Since becoming a marathon runner, I have been pregnant twice (with my two little girls.) I got pregnant with Posey (6) right after my first marathon. It was my third pregnancy and I had already figured out that once I hit the six week mark, the sickness would kick in. When I took the positive pregnancy test, I braced myself. I continued to run, but it didn’t last long. Posey was by far the hardest pregnancy because of how sick I got. I spent a lot of time in bed trying my best to keep down gatorade and saltine crackers. I waited the entire pregnancy for the nausea to go away, but it never did. I never ran. I was lucky to take a walk around the block. The pregnancy seemed like nine years, not nine months. I wondered if I would ever lose the weight (because even though I was so sick, I still managed to pack on the pounds), or if I would ever run a marathon again. I began running as soon as my doctor said I could. It was hard, but it felt so good.