At one point in life, an unexpected thought may cross your mind. Often this thought is a result of an epiphany or maybe even a mid-life crisis. The inner you shouts,
I want to run a marathon. Maybe you have had several margaritas, your stomach is hanging over your Jcrew shorts, and you can't stop thinking about that 40 year old woman,
ripped woman you passed on your way to work. After that sentence escapes your mouth, an awkward silence awaits you. This moment is where you either bail or dedicate. Depending on your audience, the silence time may vary. *WARNING: if you HAVE consumed margaritas, silence time may not exist. Expect laughter, and lots of it.
In my case, this scenario only partially applied to me. After running two seasons of NCAA cross country, I realized that I needed a change. Although I was apart of a team, I felt like I had little to offer.
*To quickly fill you in* I went to college to play basketball. After months of brainstorming, I decided last second that I was not going to play. Because of this decision, I am now a runner. As a freshmen in college, I roomed with two "recruit" runners, Sarah and Natalie. It was nearly impossible for me not to get into the sport. I was living, eating and breathing running through them (and I hadn't even started yet!) Each week I was challenged by them to run 1 mile.. 2 miles... 3 miles.. and eventually 6. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the woman's cross country coach. How I "made the team" I'm not sure. Within the first few months of training, I experienced the painful injuries such as shin splints, and knee problems. Training with a team fulfilled the emptiness I felt without basketball in my life (though the sports differ to an extreme).
 |
| Four years later, the freshmen roommates still remain close! (Natalie, Sarah, and I) |
As of today, I have completed many college races (5k's), one 10k, and one marathon. Exactly one year ago
from today, I crossed the finish line of a 26.2 mile race. It was by far the most painful, grueling race I have ever ran. Sorry, I had to put the bad first. And here is the good: it was life changing. Instead of competing against skinny french braided girls from Harvard, UMass, and Tufts, I was competing against myself. This is why I continue to run. There isn't a better feeling than competing against yourself.
With little sleep the night before the race, I was ready. I anxiously woke at 4:30 a.m. I had one cup of coffee with a bagel on the side. My stomach and my mind were on two different pages. Actually, they were on two different chapters. Because of my nerves nothing was settling, if you know what I mean. On the positive side, my thoughts remained anxious, confident, and determined.
As my mother and I drove to the start of the race an unforgiving downpour crashed against her windshield. What is it about rain that makes one worried? She turned to me and said "Tia, do you really think this race is going to happen?" I laughed nervously and said,
of course it will mom! Though I sounded confident, I had never ran in such conditions. I secretly prayed that it would let up before the race began. I will tell you now, it didn't. Not once.
Because of the torrential downpour, I decided against a long warm-up. Instead, I stayed in the heated, comfortable car to stay dry. I have still have no regrets on doing so. After taking a few silly pictures, I parted ways with my mom. This was a difficult goodbye. I never had appreciated company so much that morning. It was like my first day of kindergarden. The elite runners sprinted past our car looking fierce and fearless. And here I was having a hard time saying goodbye to my mom. Dear God.
 |
| Photo shoot. |
If you are wondering, my mom was NOT the only supporter there for me. My father, stepmother, stepbrother, his fiance, and two others spectated as well.
..I will speed this story up. So, the first ten miles were all uphill. Surprisingly I was able to bust them out. I kept my pace at almost exactly 10 minute miles. Though I was training at an 8:45 pace on a regular basis, I decided during the climb" of the race, (which was only in the beginning) would stay slow and steady. During these miles I met "the purple ladies". Little did I know that I would be highly dependent on them during the last painful miles of the race.
 |
| Purple Ladies and I. Not a great picture-- but holy legs Tia!.. I will get there, soon. |
As I peaked at 11 miles I stood on top of a large hill. This was where I was planning on "turning on the jets". Within minutes of striding down this .5 mile hill, my hip locked. It was at this moment I realized the rest of the race was going to be painful. Very. Very. Painful. With a slow limp developing, I spotted my father on the side cheering, "turn on the jets Tia, now is the time!" Trying not to cry, I calmly told him I needed IB profen,
fast. The combination of the downpour, and the hip/knee pain became discouraging. I began to weigh my options. Was I going to break my rule and walk? Was I going to get in the car with my dad?
 |
"I want a burger with fries, a coke, a beer, and some Cheetos, maybe a shot too."
Picture of my Dad and I. |
I finally accepted the fact that this race wasn't going to go as planned. I was not going to get my desired time, but I certainly was NOT going to get in that car. The last ten miles felt like a century. I was alone, cold, and barley covering grounds. Never have I been so close to hitchhiking. I had to dig deep. This was when I heard, "Tia?" I turn to see two of the Purple Ladies I had met within the first five miles. God send I tell ya. I couldn't have been more relieved. Together we finished the last painful miles. Crossing the finish line was such a powerful moment. I didn't need horns, cheering, confetti, cake?... I needed to achieve that awkward, not-believable sentence I had said months ago:
I want to run a marathon.
So when you do cross that finish line, look back on that day. Remember those who didn't think you could, or would. Remember those grueling training days, where you felt like you just couldn't do it anymore. Because in the end, it is so worth it (mentally and physically, of course). Like I said, it's life changing.
Some things I learned:
- Be more prepared. (Yes, eat the Gu, its weird but it works).
- People love to hear your story. Don't be afraid to say THIS IS MY FIRST MARATHON (loudly because your music is turned up).
- Drink water at every station, even if your not thirsty.
- Expect the unexpected.
- For your first marathon: Do it to finish, not for a time.
- Enjoy it. Every painful mile.
Sorry this was so long. Print it out or something. But that is my story (not in a nutshell). Though things went wrong for me it was a learning experience. I crave my next marathon (in the fall).
Thanks for reading.
-Tia
