The Roller Coaster Ride of a Fat, Slow Athlete.

I don't know when it happened, but I now have more workout outfits than I do jammies. That is a HUGE statement for me since I used to have more PJs than almost any other kind of clothing. Other odd things have been happening lately as well. Last weekend while running by myself on the greenway, I caught myself smiling. No reason, just running along smiling. Then there was the Thursday morning run that started out horribly. I was hot, it was humid and I took off my shirt and ran in my sports bra and HAD FUN. There was a day I had planned an evening easy run but work got in the way and I had to cancel and I was actually upset. A couple of Tuesday's ago I ran a 5K the fastest ever for me. Last week I did the same hilly 6 mile course as the horrible Thursday run and it was great. Sunday I ran 10 miles with Joe, and didn't feel sore or tight at all. So to say the last month's training has been revolutionary is an understatement.

Three months ago I reached out to a fellow Tri It For Lifer, Cindy Multer, and asked if I could run with her. She had been running in her neighborhood with another TIFLer. For some reason I never felt rude or odd asking her. I just did and she said yes. That first day was HORRIBLE. I hardly got two miles in and I felt like crap. It was hot, I puked and my average pace was almost 17 minutes a mile. I am pretty sure I can CRAWL faster than that. But reaching out to Cindy was the best thing I could have done, because I kept going. She had emergency gall bladder surgery so was out in September but we started back in October and this time, we were serious. All that bike riding I was doing did make a difference and I found it was easier to go longer and longer distances. Cindy pushed me to run when I didn't want to and since we are both slow, morning runners, we kept each other accountable. I increased my mileage and am now running 20 miles a week, all at around a 13 min pace. That is still slow, but I am happy since it is such an improvement for me. I fought the urge to walk up to co workers and tell them I ran 6 miles before they even woke up. I daydreamed about flying home wearing my half marathon medal and getting moved to first class. But.....

I consider myself a positive person but I am suddenly realizing how much negative inner thoughts I have and boy it is a ton. I run 9 miles and for a mere second I marvel at the fact that I just ran 9 miles and then it is gone and replaced with "But you ran so slowly. But you took walk breaks. But you are slow. But it was only 9 miles. I bet anyone could do that." It is horrible because there is part of me that knows that 9 miles is a huge accomplishment, but I FEEL the negative thoughts. I have two weeks til my half marathon. Even the fact that I am doing a half is slightly embarrassing. I say "Oh I'm just doing a half marathon. Not the WHOLE thing. That would be an accomplishment. I am slow and fat. " I suck. Three months ago I couldn't run a mile. Now I can run 10. Yes I am slow and yes I take walk breaks, but I actually run better when I do that. I am large. I weigh over 200 pounds. That is a lot of stress on the body. I am equally ashamed and proud of that fact. I WISH I was fast. A friend asked me if I was hoping for a time. "Yes, I am secretly aiming for 2 hours and 45 minutes but think my official time will be closer to 3 hours." Well turns out she did a half and came in under 2 hours. Suddenly I was mortified at making my 3 hours public.

But for me...3 hours is good, great really when you consider where I was just 3 months ago. Isn't it actually harder for me to trudge along for 3 hours rather than those people that finish in an hour, or even two? Isn't it impressive that someone who HATED running has come to actually enjoy it? Isn't the fact that I get up at 4AM and run even though I'd rather be in bed count for something? I don't feel tight or sore after running almost 10 miles and don't forget that I have a super cute matching outfit! I'm going to finish a half marathon. Yes, that is a big deal. I know that, and for a few minutes after a run I feel that. I just hope that when I cross the finish line I can tell my stupid self to shut up and let me enjoy it for at least 5 minutes. And I am going to wear my medal on the plane and if they don't upgrade me to first class, pooey on them, because I am going to be a slow, fat, half marathon finisher. Damnit.