Houston Half-Marathon, Part II

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....