Aside from giving birth and adjusting to life as a new mother, training for the half marathon may have been the next most difficult thing I have done. It was about 3 months after I gave birth to my son and I felt like I was never going to get back in shape. I felt chubby and drained. Between multiple middle of the night feedings, returning to a full-time job after 12 weeks of maternity leave and trying to figure out how continuing my wife role fit in to this new life, I had no energy left to take care of my physical self. In those first couple months post-baby, I struggled to ever feel rested, rarely laughed at my husband's jokes and stressed myself out so much the first week back to work that I made myself vomit in a second floor bathroom. Life with a newborn.
Something had to change, so I started talking to a friend of mine who I thought would probably run a race with me since we had run one together in the past. I didn't want to run a 5K. It had to be something very, very challenging for myself. The half marathon. My friend was game almost immediately! The night came when we both agreed to sign up for the Minneapolis Half Marathon. We texted back and forth.
Me: Did you sign up yet?
Her: No, did you? I'm SO nervous.
Me: No, but I'm SO nervous too!
Her: Okay, I'm going to sign up right now. You better do it too!
Me: Okay, I'm going to sign up. Text me when you're done.
Her: Just signed up... WHAT HAVE WE DONE?!?!
Me: I don't know!!!! I'm freaking out!
Her: Bri, we can do this! We are so going to do this.
Me: We totally are! Okay, now I'm excited!
Her: Me too!
No joke. That's about how the text conversation went. We signed up and had roughly 4 months to train. The next week, I ran on the treadmill at the gym. I think I ran 1.5 miles. It was my second or third time running since having the baby and my doctor warned me about working out too much and not letting my body adjust slowly. My doctor was right and I injured my knee. Too much too soon. I was so disappointed that running 1.5 miles caused an injury. I'd rather run through an injury than lay on the couch recuperating, but I could barely walk up and down the stairs without being in pain, so it was necessary for me to take time off. Three weeks later, my knee finally felt normal again. I did a couple 1 mile runs for a week just to get the feel of it. No pain!
My friend and I tried for weeks to get together for training runs. We had a couple scheduled and something always came up. We never did one run together in preparation for this race. She ended up training with her husband and he signed up for the race himself, which I thought was a fantastic idea. If he's going to put the miles in, he might as well run the actual race! She would email me reports about their runs, what their times were and how she felt. I learned from her emails that they would be running a faster pace than me and as the race approached, we decided that on race day they would run at their pace and I would run mine. Sure, we signed up together, but finishing the race was both of our goals... however we got there.
Not only was it impossible to find time to run with my friend, but it was nearly impossible for me to find time to run all by myself. Being a working, nursing mom only allowed for short windows of time where I could sneak in a run. My baby was still nursing every 3-4 hours during this time and I had to nurse him (or pump... gahh... the pump) right before every run, be back, stretch, and shower up before it was time to nurse again. And then find something to eat before bed. I found it difficult and mentally challenging to add another activity into my day, but I knew I had to do it. Every time I came back from a run, I felt amazing. I could feel my body getting stronger. My stomach chub was diminishing. My knees felt solid.
I also felt amazing because it was time I needed to just be me. All day long, I played the role of mom, wife and employee. I didn't have a chance to just be me and be alone. I didn't have time in the day to listen to my own thoughts or to just not think at all. Nobody talked to me, nobody spit up on me, nobody emailed me. It was just me. A lot of new moms, and probably experienced moms, must feel this way too. There was so much on my plate, so many expectations and it was increasily stressful to juggle it all.
Most of my training runs took place along the Mississippi River in St. Paul in the spring and eventually the start of summer. The path curves and bends in all the right places. There are little hills here and there and there are houses that line the boulevard that I can only dream about living in someday. It was a great path to have my me time on. Usually, because of my son's nursing schedule, I ran right after work around 6 PM. My favorite time of day. You know how the sun turns orange as its coming down and makes everything look richer? Perfect. Running was my escape. Whether it was 1 mile or 7 miles.
As it turns out, 7 miles was the longest run I did in preparing for the race. Rookie mistake, right? For a few days before the race, I couldn't get it out of my head that 7 wasn't enough and that I wouldn't be able to finish the race. All along, my goal was to just finish. If I had to walk, I would walk, but I was going to finish that race. I kept telling myself that and the nerves subsided.
Race morning: My alarm went off at 5 AM. I got dressed in my favorite running gear, struggled to put down a small amount of oatmeal and then very much struggled to eat a banana. After a brief stomach ache, it was time to nurse the baby, get in the car and go downtown. Our son is an eater. He never refuses food and back when he was just nursing, it was the same. 6 AM: THE BABY WON'T NURSE! Panic mode sets in. He won't eat. He HAS to eat! The pump isn't ready to go. I have to wash pump parts. Hurry. Hurry. Hurrrrrrrry! Maybe the baby could sense my anxiety and wanted nothing to do with me. Thank God for electric pumps. I turned that sucker on high and we were driving downtown in no time.
Don't ask me how, but I found my friend and her husband among the crowd of thousands almost immediately after my husband dropped me off and gave me a good luck kiss. The race started and we were off! Within the first minute or so, I told my friends to just go on and enjoy the race. I was determined to set a good pace for myself from the start and I could tell I was going to be slower than them. We said goodbye and good luck. I put in my earbuds and started a podcast from The Parent Experiment. During training, I found that I ran longer distances better when listening to something I could engage in rather than listening to music. Try it sometime!
Miles 1, 2, 3 and 4 went by and when I saw mile markers for 5 and 6, I felt so happy. I was a little nervous about approaching mile markers 7 and 8 because I knew that would be the farthest I had run up to that point. At about 7.5 miles, I noticed a giant pink sign that said "Go Bri!" It was my mom, dad and sisters! They took pictures of me as I ran (Oh, those are beautiful...) and gave me high-fives as I passed by them. Both of my sisters had run half marathons before me, so it was encouraging to me to have them there cheering me on. My dad jumped onto the road and ran with me for about a half mile. He told me that my husband and baby boy were down the road a bit more. I was so excited! I finally spotted them and stopped to take a picture with my baby at mile 8. I felt determined and strong. My family being there to support me meant the world to me. I swallowed the raspberry energy goo after leaving my family and wow, that sat like a rock in my stomach. The feeling went away fast and I was going on miles 9, 10 and 11.
The end was near. I could taste it. I rounded a corner and in front of me was the most giant hill I have ever seen. It may have looked bigger that day than it would to me now. My knees were starting to burn, my tank top was sweaty and my two sports bras (nursing mom, remember) were starting to feel tight and misplaced. I started into a walk-run thing going up the hill and then all of the sudden, mile marker 13 appeared. I could hear the man's voice over the speakers announcing people's names as they crossed the finish line. Right then, I decided to run, not limp or jog, but run across the finish line. Right before I crossed, I heard someone call out my name. It was my friend and her husband! They had finished 15 minutes ahead of me and were waiting to see me cross. I think I managed to do my best wave while doing an all out sprint.
"Brianna from St. Paul... congratulations on finishing" the announcer man said.
I did it!!! I did it!!!! I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I saw my family waiting for me and a woman put a finisher's medal around my neck. That woman had no idea how much that medal meant to me. My family hugged me and congratulated me. I kissed my baby snoozing in his stroller. I ate orange slices and a sugar cookie.
I didn't do this race for anyone else, but myself. I finished a stronger, happier, more confident wife, mother, and employee (working out = more energy = higher productivity, right?!). But most of all, I found myself again. It was truly an amazing day. That afternoon, I told my family I wanted to run another half because I had such a fun time and gained so much from the experience.
I did it!
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