The Half Marathon that tried to Kill me

I am still processing my feelings about my race . I have concluded it was a sucess but I am still mourning the fact that I fell badly enough that I am bruised is many matches all over my body and that I am currently hurting a lot. But it gave me great material for my talk in church I had to give the next day so that was good. Here is the little half marathon story I used as an opener,

If you have talked to me in the past weeks you probably heard me talk about the half marathon I was sort of training for. A half marathon is 13.1 miles long so weeks and even months of training are required to get ready for it. Life was so busy with the new baby I wasn’t prepared liked I had hoped. And to be completely honest I procrastinated my training. I could easily find “more important” things to do then go running for miles at a time. But I had committed myself, on face book even, so I registered and showed up yesterday for the big race.

Now I have been running pretty consistently for the past 12 years so I knew pretty well what I was getting into and I know what my strengths and weaknesses are as a runner. I can power up hills like no buddy’s business which was great for this race since it was almost non-stop hills for the first 8 miles but down hills are my weakness and what goes up must come down. The race was basically running from San Rafael park up Mt. Peavine and then back down again. The trials are narrow single lane dirt paths that are very rocky. At many places they were little more then mini creek beds where the snow melt runs down the side of the mountain edging out a deep rocky path to follow up. On the way up hill this is a great thing because I could use the rocks to push off from but down hill they were a curse. They were unstable and made for very unsure footing. I have weak ankles and those rocks were tricky to maneuver.

Early in the race I felt great. I was doing well because of all the hills. In fact I started to feel a little cocky. I was doing much better then I thought I would do. After I made it up an especially long hill I went to raise my arms above my head to cheer in victory and totally ate it. I slid into the ground like I was sliding into home base. Somehow I jumped up from my embarrassing fall and felt pretty good despite my side hurting a bit and my palms stinking from the gravel rubbing against them. So I took off and thought to myself, I better not be careless, I am not as strong as I think. The run continued on and was going well despite my earlier fall. Here and there I would land funny and almost troll my ankle but I had been fast enough to correct the angel of my ankle before any damage was done. With the bright blue skies and the trickling stream running along the trial I started to be less attentive.

As I passed the half-way point I set a goal to finish the race with a group of runners I had been running close to for the majority of the race. Up to that point that had been easy for me to do because it was mostly all up hill. In fact I had been a little ahead of them for miles and felt really good about it because one look at them and it was clear that they were serious and extremely fit runners. I thought it would really mean something to be able to finish alongside them. However, once we crested the last killer hill and faced five miles of constant downhill they switched to high gear and took off. I knew my ankles were weak, I had already fallen, and I had almost rolled my ankles several times on the run already but I was foolish. I let my vanity get the best of me and I literally put caution to the wind. I started running down the hills as fast as they were going to keep up. I kept hearing the still small voice issue a warning to me to be cautious, that I was not as strong as them but I rationalized it away; all the others runners were doing fine going so fast surely I could too, that if I just went for it everything would be fine, …

Well, sure enough I placed my foot on a loose rock and my weak ankle was not strong enough to correct the change in my balance and I went sliding down the rocky narrow trial. It hurt. Large pointed rocks drove into my shins, my palms were worn raw, and I hit my side with such force the air was almost knocked out of me. I got up and was in terrible pain. The group of people I wanted to finish with were now very far ahead of me and the runners behind me now started to pass me by as I inspected my injuries. I had three miles to go so I did what I had to do and started to run. Each step sent a shock of pain up through my shins. It took all my control to not burst into tears. I suffer from asthma and I knew if I let myself cry it would trigger an asthma attack and then I would be in serious trouble so I tried my hardest to pull it together. I prayer that Heavenly Father would help me be calm, to ease my pain, and to help me finish the race. About half a mile later I was doing better and I very cautiously made my way down the rest of the mountain side and finished slower and farther down the list of runners then I would have had I simply been smart and careful.

I finished fine, honestly just what I had hopped I would do. I ran great for a lady who had a baby just four months ago. I, in all seriousness, met all my pre-race goals: I was not last to finish and I met my training pace. In most regards it was a success. However, all the satisfaction of completing the race I have wanted to do for the past four years was robbed from me. I was disappointed in myself and sore from my injuries. I did not feel victorious, I felt foolish. I had ran like a rookie not a seasoned runner. I wished I could turn back time and could have trained better, I wish I could go back in time and applied the knowledge I know about my running weaknesses, I wish I could go back in time and listen to the small voice in my mind and heart telling me to take it easy, I wish I had learned from my mistakes… but I cant turn back time. From now on I will have this memory of my disappointment in myself. It is not how I envisioned my race to leave me feeling. That sense of accomplishment never came. The runners high I love so much was not there.

Life can often be like my race. We get distracted, we get caught up in our vanity, we get our priorities wrong, we ignore the spirit, we refuse to learn from our mistakes, we deny our weaknesses, we get careless and act reckless,…and then we suffer from the heavy weight of disappointment. That feeling is the feeling of sin and it is the most corrosive and bleakest feeling we can experience in this life. We can try to hide from it but it has a way of seeping into our very beings and robs us of our peace. It can become so complete that it takes away our ability to experience joy, it can trap our hearts in a prison of confining remorse and self-loathing.

But there is light that can chase away the deep darkness of sin. There is a way to replace self-loathing with self-respect, there is love that can fill us so much that no matter what we face we have joy and peace. How is this possible? It is possible through repentance.

So there is my race in a nut shell well, a churchy nut shell. ;) It was hard, it was fun, I was a fool and got injured, but I did well all in all. It actually felt faster then I thought it would. I know if I had been in better shape and was not an idiot racing down the mountain I would have done really well in it. I was so glad I wasn't one of the last, I was 75th our of 138 so about mid range. But for now Advil and I are BFFs and I will probably not be racing down any steep hills soon if I can help it.

The kids waiting at San Rafael Park for me to finish the race...

The mountain I ran up...
The race results, can you find me?
Me after the race with the kids...