The first half went well and I felt good. My nose ran a steady flow that I wiped on my gloves until I tossed them, but I felt fine and held an 8:50 pace, which is what I did in the previous half. I was ok with that given the circumstances. Around mile 5 I saw my handsome other half returning, looking strong and second place overall. I'm not gonna lie, I take some pride in high-fiving Mr. Front Runner as I'm running amidst a crowd inspired by those first few men and women. That's the great thing about out-and-back courses. Seeing those fast front runners and getting a jolt of energy and excitement as they pass. I just get a little extra since one of them belongs with me.
When I turned around and started back myself, I was hoping to maintain that pace, but my legs were beginning to feel heavy and tired. I thought at first it was just because we were headed uphill, but then we weren't and my legs were no better. I took my second coffee honey stinger and it gave me a short burst of energy, but that soon fizzled out too. I pushed on, but it was hard. Fresh runners started to pass me and that was hard too. Around mile 11 my tummy started to hurt - probably a product of the meds I was on for my sinus infection and wheeze. I took a walk break or two and my miles got slower and slower.
I looked for Jason, but he never came. I wanted to see him so badly but I knew he'd probably walked back to the house to check on the kids. My dad, sis, and brother-in-law were watching them while we ran, and Eloise had been upset when we left. I didn't hear his cheer as I crossed the finish line, and the lump in my throat was sizable. I grabbed a water, banana, and my Vera Bradley bag, not making eye contact with anyone. I wanted to go straight back to the house and hug a baby, but I knew Mom would be coming in soon and she'd want her cheerleader hollering for her. I hoped it looked like I was merely squinting in the sun as I walked through the crowds trying not to cry. Inwardly I was telling myself to get it together, that there was nothing to cry about, that I knew I wasn't in top form to run 13.1 miles...
I sat on the side of the road where no one else was spectating, sipped my water and eventually got it together. I cheered for Mom when I saw her, and then Jason and Eloise found me. Eloise jumped into my arms and Jason offered to take her, but it was exactly what I needed. She held on tight and so did I, and I started to feel much better.
Since coming home I've finally beaten this cold/cough/sinus infection, but have since hurt my foot. I think I got a little carried away with a 30 day burpee challenge I found or maybe I did it on the treadmill. Either way, I feel like I'm still waiting to feel good. Still waiting to run well. Learning a new lesson in patience and fighting some days to stay positive.
I'm eating extremely well these days, trying to give my body the nutrients it needs to fight sickness and heal my foot. Lots of fruit and veggies, and I'm trying to get in a few more iron rich foods too. While I wait on my foot I'm doing some PiYo and weights, setting new goals and letting go of the old ones for now. I'm looking forward to my next Walk/Jog/Run class which starts Monday and is the biggest I've taught so far with 29 students signed up! I'm also looking forward to spring, warmer temps, and a fun season of racing with my guy.
February was not a great month, but I know these times of sickness and injury pass. And I can't feel too bad for myself while looking at the gifts and blessings in that picture above. I just need a little patience. Yeeeaaaah.