A 'thank you' doesn't even begin to describe my appreciation to you and your willingness to follow me along on this journey.
It is commonly known that most runners, after completing their first major milestone like a marathon or half-marathon, sometimes feel mild depression or sadness. Think about it...months and months of training, sacrificing, and giving everything you have for one day. The one day comes, you succeed, and the day is over. I can imagine why it is so hard. But I did not have this problem. I was overjoyed and ecstatic the half-marathon was over. I came home, I blogged, and I stalled for time, not wanting to face the inevitable. Today I am sad. Today I am mildly depressed. Because today is the day of my last post on this blog and I'm here, staring the inevitable in the face.
For nearly a year, this place has been my comfort. I can pour out exactly what I'm thinking and feeling, whether I'm sad, happy, anxious, terrified, proud, nervous, ecstatic, and everything between. And you, dear readers, must think I'm a complete nut-job...what with all the highs and lows and emotion! Oh, dear!
But this has been my experience, my life, my journal, and I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. We runners raised almost $24,000 for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation and that makes my heart sing. Thank you to all of you, whether you donated or supported me with your love and kindness!
So, although this blog will not continue, fear not. I have two projects in the works that I'm excited to share with you.
First, The Journey From Couch Potato to Half Marathoner blog is currently being turned into a book! That's right, a beautiful, hardcover, coffee-table book! I'm so excited to be working on this project and it will be a way for me to technically never have to say goodbye to this blog (I'm not so good at letting go). Order your copy today!
Secondly, my NEW BLOG is up and running (although under construction). Yes, that's right. I just love blogging too much to give up completely. I know it's time for closure with this blog (and I'm okay with that now) and that's why I have a new address and a new look. Please visit me here now and keep me bookmarked for our new adventure:
Thank you, dear readers. I hope you all take the advice to heart that I gave Landon in my last post...it applies to us all. Believe in yourself, persevere no matter what, and trust in God. I challenge you to go out and do the thing you think you cannot do. Because you know what? You can.
We did it! We conquered this challenge together, and I want you to know that picturing your face kept me going the entire time. Even though it was hard to walk when it was over, I could have gone a million more miles knowing you were at the finish line.
I hope you had fun on your trip to Houston...there was so much to see:
And that shirt your mom made was just the best:
You and I are so blessed to have a family that loves us so much:
And friends who go the extra mile to show us how much they care:
But the best part of all this, Landon, was you. Through this whole process, people have been telling me what an inspiration I am, but the truth is, you are more of an inspiration than I will ever be. You make me want to be a better person in every way and I would do anything in the world for you. When I took on this challenge a year ago, I wanted to accomplish a lot of things. Yes, I wanted to raise money for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation, but most of all, I wanted to prove a point to you. I wanted to prove to you that a circumstance does not have to define you or make the great things you want to do impossible. It is my promise to you that I will do everything in my power to help you realize and chase your goals and dreams, however big or small they may be.
In a family like ours, we are raised with tons of love, faith, values, encouragement, and support. There will come a day in your life that you will be tested and you'll need to have all of these things within yourself. This past year, I was tested, and I learned that I didn't always believe in myself as I was taught to do. It seemed that everyone I knew believed I could finish this race except me, and that's not the way it should be. Perhaps I was afraid of failure. Perhaps I didn't want to disappoint anyone, especially you. So many doubts and fears could have been avoided by just believing in myself, and you should know how important that is. A wise person once said, "Believe in yourself and all that you are. Know that there is something inside you that is greater than any obstacle." This is so true, Landon. You are a special, beautiful, wonderful, and gifted person, and God created you knowing exactly what He was doing. Believe in yourself always.
Another important lesson I learned was perseverance. You will have moments in life...some successful and some that don't feel successful...but as long as you persevere and do your best, the outcome is just an outcome. If I hadn't been able to finish this race, it would have been okay. To know that you do your best at whatever comes your way will make you a better man, whether the outcome turns out the way you want it to or not. Great works are performed not by strength but by perseverance.
Finally, and most importantly, always know how much God loves you. When life is going great, or when life is not going your way, you will always be able to count on Him. Look for the everyday things He puts in your life and be so thankful for them. He promises you and me, "Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my right hand." Praise God when you are happy, and lean on him when you are sad...I promise He'll always come through for you.
What a year. What an adventure. I'm looking forward to so many more with you, Landon. You will never know the depth to which I love you, and I speak for our entire family as I write this. No matter what, they have always been there for me, and they will do the same for you. You are an absolute miracle to all of us. Always believe, always persevere, always trust. I love you.
-Aunt Laura
To all my faithful readers who have been so supportive, thank you! Please stay tuned for information on the future of this blog and some special words for you. Love, Laura.
I didn't sleep a wink. Not one full hour. But definitely not for lack of trying. For over a week, I had been training my body to wake up earlier and earlier each morning, forcing me to go to sleep earlier and earlier each night. Before the half, I was going to bed normally around 8:00 pm and rising at 4:00 am. It seemed like such a fool-proof plan to force me to get plenty of sleep the night before the race, but as it turns out it was all a giant waste of time.
Saturday night, I was in bed by 8:00 pm, tossed and turned for a couple of hours, remember feeling exhausted and trying to force myself to sleep but the nerves were too great. I lay in bed until the wake up call came at 4:00 am and when it did, I felt a sense of dread. I slipped quietly into the bathroom of our hotel room so as not to wake Scott and took a hot bath to loosen up some of my leg muscles, the calf in particular. I forced down half a banana, took two bites of a Pop Tart (LOADED with carbs!) but I wanted to vomit from the nerves so I had to stop eating.
I grabbed our room key, a handful of cards with inspirational sayings on them that my mom had made for me and left the room to look for a quiet place to do my 45-minute stretching routine. The only place I could find was the elevator lobby but it was silent and not one person got on or off the elevator the entire time I was there...It was my little sanctuary.
I sat down in the elevator lobby on the 9th floor and started reading my cards. The very first one: When you are ready to give up, remember why you held on for so long in the first place. Landon. Enough said. "Alright, Laura," I told myself. "It's time to stop being a baby and a giant weiner about all of this. It's here. Deal with it. Do what you came to do."
I finished stretching, returned to the room to get dressed and we headed downstairs, every second and every step getting closer and closer to the starting line. Down in the lobby we met up with the rest of the half-marathon gang (Cas, of course, and my best friend Jenni and her husband Rad) and seeing them helped my nerves so much. We were all in the same boat and we were all nervous and that was okay. We headed into the frigid, dark morning toward the starting corral. As we got closer I realized one last bathroom break wouldn't be a bad idea. A lot of you have been asking about my stomach since it always acts up when I'm nervous but truth be told, I took enough Immodium to tranquilize a horse the night before so my stomach felt great! I had been hydrating so I thought a pee stop would be smart. WRONG AGAIN!
We waited forever for a port-a-pottie (along with everyone else) and once I finally got one, I pulled down my shorts, sat down to go, and my rear end got soaked from about 100 other people's pee! EWWW, GROSS! I know, right?! In very un-Laura like fashion, I forced myself to laugh, praised the Good Lord that I had brought my own toilet paper (cause my stall was out), and decided I would have to let this incident roll off my back so I could get out there and start this run.
We moved through the masses of people which formed a strange ring of body heat in the cold morning air. I remember feeling grateful for that. Usually body heat freaks me out but not today.
We heard the gun go off and after a few minutes, people started walking forward. Then walks turned into jogs, and finally, I crossed the start line, synching my watch at the same time.
Me and Cas starting the race:
The crowd was thick and everyone kept a pretty slow pace. We went uphill on a large bridge for what seemed like a lot of Mile 1. I remember thinking that whoever made Houston's course famous for being "fast and flat" was a complete liar. To start off on a hill wasn't the best but I still had the adrenaline propelling me forward and I just tried to keep my breathing slow and steady.
Miles 1-3 were pretty much a blur. The uphill climb at Mile 1 got me warmed up faster than I would have liked and I was thirsty by the water stop at Mile 2. I saw a sign marking Mile 3 and was impressed how fast they seemed to be flying by.
As we approached Mile 4, I walked up another giant hill to save the energy and finally started to look at my surroundings. There were dogs everywhere. People cheered but I couldn't hear them because of my ipod. Water stations started to look more and more trashed and littered. We were in the second wave which meant an entire wave of marathoners and half-marathoners had already come through and left their mark behind. It was here that I realized my calf had made it 4 miles, and I had told myself if I could get it to 4, I thought it would be okay. I looked at Scott, told him I was going to finish, and told him to not let me give up for anything. We kept going. Mile 5 got interesting. I clearly remember this as the marker where I got fatigued and I was surprised since I had trained to 8 miles. I thought I needed food so I took a bite of an energy bar. I was so freakin thirsty and think I drank too much water at this stop which caused my stomach to cramp a little. I walked to try and get it all digested.
Mile 6 I thought was going to eat me for lunch but went by quickly and then we hit Mile 7. Dreaded Mile 7. It was at Mile 7 that the course took us down a big hill under an overpass and then back up...you guessed it...a huge hill on the other side. Whatever I did to get my body up this ginormous hill made my calf very angry, and it was here that it threw it's temper tantrum. I felt it, and I felt it hard and it got worse with every step. It was here, at dreaded Mile 7, that was the reason I had to walk most of the rest of the way to the finish line.
Miles 8 and 9 were hell on earth. I want to block it from my memory. Permanently.
Mile 10 is where I lost it emotionally. My calf hurt so bad I can't even describe. But I knew at Mile 10 that I was going to finish. Then I thought about still having to go 3 more miles. But then I realized I had made it this far and I would finish. And Landon would be there waiting. So many mixed emotions all at once. I bawled. Thank goodness for sunglasses. It was an emotional mile.
Mile 11 is where we merged with the marathoners. It was depressing because they were doing twice my distance in the same amount of time. I forced myself to not worry about them and just focus on finishing. It was here that out of the blue, my music really started to annoy me and I ripped my earbuds from my ears. My hydration belt also drove me nuts. I never wanted to see Gatorade ever again so I tossed it at Scott and told him to chunk it. He held onto it instead, claiming it was a perfectly good hydration belt. I told him I would never need it again so I didn't care.
Mile 12: So close, yet so far away. Until I saw him...my dad. Standing on the corner in downtown Houston all by himself and grinning ear to ear. He came to walk with us and I can't explain what that did to my morale. It was like a jolt of energy! I started babbling to Scott about what we were going to do in our finish line picture. Scott said that's how he knew I was going to be okay...if I was worried about looking cute in the finish line picture, then I would be just fine.
Mile 13: There he was. A little blond-headed boy in a blue shirt bearing the words "She did it for me." Sweet Landon. He was with his mom and she was grinning ear to ear, too. I was so glad to see them!! It was another jolt of adrenaline and I wanted to run the rest of the way but I also wanted to stop and hug him. I couldn't. I had to keep going and I teared up and started to cry again. About a block ahead of them I heard a whole group of screaming and looked up to see my entire family waving and flashing cameras! I saw relatives I had no idea would be there and at first I was confused but then I was just plain happy to see all those familiar faces! I looked at Scott and told him we were going to jog across that finish line if it ripped my calf muscle from my leg. He grabbed my hand and we headed deep into the finish chute under the banners, balloons, music, and camera flashes. I saw my foot cross the painted line on the ground. I cried the entire time.
Mile 13.1: We did it. 13.1 miles. We were finished.
The saga continues and the best post is yet to come. Please check back, as this adventure isn't quite over yet....
The week before the half-marathon is when my anxiety and fears kicked into high gear. Every day that drew me closer to Sunday, I could feel my heart race a little faster, my stomach cramp a little tighter, and my nerves get closer to shot.
By Friday, I was a mess, an absolute mess. My calf was still tender, my bags were packed, and I was at the point of no return, facing an unknown abyss. Everyone was rooting for me and I had more support than I could have ever dreamed. Emails, phone calls, and text messages poured in. The ladies at work made me feel like a rock star surprising me with flowers and pink, sparkly goodies (my favorite!). And yes, that's a rhinestone-encrusted visor with pink fur and a crown on top...love it! They are the best! All of the support started to get me pumped and suddenly I was excited about Sunday! After a great night's sleep, I woke up on Saturday, saw the suitcase on the floor and realized the half-marathon was TOMORROW! And then the wave of panic crept back in and wouldn't go away. Today was the day we would travel to Houston. This was it.
Fortunately, my friend Cas and I knew we were going to need a distraction on this oh-so-important day, so what's a girl to do? Book manicures of course! Saturday morning we headed to the spa, we chatted with the friendly girls helping us, we laughed, we talked about movies, and we forgot all about the half. It was just what I needed. Later I realized if I was going to end up face first on the pavement, at least my nails would look darn good! The moment of truth finally did come. We packed up the car. We drove to Houston. We ate at the Olive Garden on the way in to the hotel. Well, I didn't eat at the Olive Garden but everyone else needed carbs so I obliged. I had to baby my stomach and take it easy (darn you, IBS!) so I pulled out my turkey sandwich and plain potato chips and had to endure stares from the waiter and others in the restaurant. It was a great sandwich.
As we left the restaurant, a street sign caught Cassie's eye: She thought it was quite amusing there was a street in Houston called "Dacoma St." She said we were going to be in "Da coma" when this was all over. Haha, I laughed nervously. Very funny, Cas.
We arrived to the hotel and stood in a line full of buff, fit people also waiting to check in. The Hilton Americas was lovely and we had stayed here before so I felt comfortable with my surroundings. We threw our stuff in the room and headed down to the lobby to meet up with my family who had arrived earlier that afternoon. Seeing them started a whole time period I have dubbed the "24-hour emotional roller coaster." It began when I saw the look of joy and pride in my family's face and didn't end until the night the half was over (more on that later).
We visited for a while and then had to head across the street to pick up our packets so the time for goodbyes came. It would be the last time I would see their faces until this was all over, for better or worse. I cried at their last minute words of encouragement and the confidence they had in me. I love them so much. Then it was off to packet pick-up. The convention center was packed. I looked at everyone and felt relief every time I saw someone overweight (like me) carrying around their goody bag and t-shirt. I didn't want to feel like everyone in this was going to be an uber-athlete and to my surprise, they weren't.
We headed into the check-in line and it was hard to forget why we were here (thank you, huge signs everywhere reminding me that tomorrow my two feet were supposed to carry me 13.1 miles): We fell into line and looked calm while picking up our packets: But this is what it really felt like: We gathered our goodies and headed back to the hotel for some R&R and an early bedtime. As we headed out the door, we passed a large sign and the words "Run For A Reason" caught my eye. I stopped, looked at the list, saw the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation on it, and immediately remembered why I was here. I thought of Landon and how much I love him. I thought of how desperate I was to finish the half. I took a deep breath, stepped outside into the cold air and couldn't believe that what I had been working a year for would be here in just a few short hours...
I did it. The Houston Half-Marathon. All 13.1 grueling miles.
The "I" up there should actually be "we." I could have not done it without my support system rooting for me and of course the 2010 Houston Half/5k team. We all did what we set out to do and I hope each and every one of you are so proud of yourselves!
My next post is gonna be awesome so keep checking back. Boy, do I have some stories to tell about this weekend...And pictures! Oh, the pictures are great too! Just need a day or two to recover. I'm very sore, very exhausted and wish to do absolutely nothing for now.
This will be my last post until this is over, for better or worse.
I'm up at 4:15 this morning, sitting in the quiet, listening to the rain, and ready to cry. My calf is tender and at this point I know it's the only thing capable of stopping me tomorrow.
I don't like the unknown. I don't like thinking I may not finish but it's a possibility for anyone who goes out there to start a half marathon.
You all have been so supportive of me...the outpouring of love has been unreal. And now my bags are packed. I've done all I can do and now we just wait and see.
I am 28, overweight, and training to go from out-of-shape to completing a half-marathon...all to support my nephew and the fight against Cystic Fibrosis!
www.running4landon.com
