Population 7,360

As we were pulling into the town we'd call home for the next few months, we passed the welcome sign with a stunning "population 7,360" stamped on it.  I tried not to psych myself out because we are familiar with small towns, we've been living in one for the last four years together.  NBD, right?  Right.  So I looked up the last town we lived in to compare it's population.  At the 2010 census, our former city's population was 25,484--practically 3.5 times the size of this northern Cali town...surprise!  I instantly felt claustrophobic, no exaggeration.  

As a background, for those who don't know me well or don't know me at all, I grew up mostly in Houston, TX.  My family moved there when I was ten, and I left for college in Idaho a few weeks before my 18th birthday.  My parents still live in Houston and don't have any plans to move, ever.  To give you an idea of Houston's size, it is the 5th largest metropolitan area in the United States.  As of a year ago, it had a population of 6.08 million people.  The city of Houston alone is more populated than the state of Utah and Idaho combined (1.5 times more populated to be exact).  And to get more personal, there were 1,200 students in my HS graduating class alone.  My point is, I did a little adjusting when I moved to Idaho for college.  I truly loved my time there and felt grateful and {somewhat} relieved to experience the 'small town feel'.

To temporarily live in an even smaller town is no doubt an adjustment, but it's a fun adventure.  I'm all about rounding out my edges and experiencing new things.  Zuriel is distracted all day by his internship so he doesn't get the full effect, but me and tina get to have the real-deal experience.  

Just picked up his 'gear' from work for his first day

Still no place to live = no kitchen = always eating out

Hotel room shot of Zuriel trying on the full outfit.  Hey Mr. Construction Field Engineer guy,

 no more labor positions for you, it's all management now.  #soproud

After passing through the mountains to get here, we've finally reached sea level...or, below sea level..

Turns out the sun was looking kind of funny because there was a solar eclipse...  

We were sad when we later realized we had missed the best part.

The open pastures and farmlands with cows throughout remind me of Idaho

Just dropped the hubby off at work 

Incredibly good mexican in town with yummy salsa and horchata

We live right on the San Francisco river, about 0.3 miles away

One of the things I do to keep myself busy is take myself on dates.  

They often include lunch--this time it was at panera.

One of my runs, just exploring the city.  And you thought Cali was only beaches, palm trees, style, and celebrities.  Come to our neck of the woods, we'll show you a different side.

Right after her haircut.  Loved the bandana they put on her.

Another run.  From this picture you may think I get to run with a river or ocean by my side at all times, but this only lasted a half mile or so, no need to get jealous.

Another run, this time with Z on his day off.

 He's trying to wrap his shirt around his waist  #gettingtan

He said we could only take a pic of us together if the windmills were in the background...fine :)

 Later that day we went to see a movie.  We had about 30 minutes before it would start so we walked around and found a sushi place.  After the first bite, we decided this would be a new tradition...to a) always see a movie at this theater and to b) grab a sushi roll either before and/or after the movie.

This about sums up our first week in Norcal.  After five days of being here we moved into an apartment {finally} that was in the process--literally--of being remodeled.  After four days of being in the apartment, the kitchen was finally completed and we had a fridge, but had to wait a few more days for a stove, meaning we still had to eat out a lot.  Our stomachs and wallets had had enough of this nonsense to say the least.  

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Ever lived in a small town?  What do you prefer?

It's hard to say, because we really did enjoy Idaho.  But, I have to be honest and say that I couldn't always live in a small town.  I'm a big-city girl at heart, it's my comfort zone.  The more options available (i.e. more than one supermarket to choose from to buy your groceries) the safer and less claustrophobic I feel. 

Anyone else agree that as fun and exciting as eating out can be, it quickly becomes overrated when you have to do it all.the.time?

Seriously.  It got old real quick.

Two contrasting LRs

The Saturday of Easter weekend, my dad joined Z and I on our long run {LR} that morning.  Sadly, within the first 0.5 miles my dad stopped and had to catch his breath.  We quickly remembered that his body is used to running at sea level and we jumped into a moderate pace at 4,862 ft above sea level.  That'll take your breath away.  Three miles into our run, he turned back, giving him a good 6-mile run.  Z and I were scheduled for a 9-mile run, so we kept going. 

He wanted a picture in front of the Tetons...those mountains wayyy back there.

We felt awesome during this run.  No tired legs, no distracting mental battle, no intestinal or stomach issues, no dehydration, no bad weather, no fighting to keep our desired pace.  The last half of our run I decided to blast pandora on my phone.  I put it to the 'Club/Dance Radio' station and we ran home to some techno and other upbeat dance songs, ignoring the glances of people outside their homes who could also hear our blasted club/dancing music.  This was a good run.

Fast forward a week to this past Saturday when we only had to do 6 miles.  After eating Costa Vida and going shooting, we went for a run.  We drove out {imagine that} to the loop we wanted to run, starting our run at almost 3pm.  It was warm enough to wear shorts and a tank top, about 55 degrees.  Within the first mile, I knew it was going to be tough.  By the second mile {in contrast to our previous week's LR}, my legs felt kinda tired, there was definitely a distracting mental battle, I was definitely dehydrated, and I was definitely fighting to keep any pace once I realized our original 'desired' pace was out the window.  What is wrong with me.  Conveniently, Zuriel was feeling just as junky as I was. I wanted to stop, but knew I needed to keep that to myself.  Honestly, 75% of the run, I was wishing I was walking. Running isn't always sunshine and rainbows.  Especially when you really, really want to stop.  By the last couple miles, my stomach was getting just as worked up as my mental battle.

It's funny how temperamental running can be.  Although we can just have our 'bad days', more often than not, minor details of the day(s) leading up to the run affect it more than you'd expect.  As I was getting through those miles, I thought of how I hadn't had enough to water in the last 36-ish hours, I thought of how there might not have been enough down-time between my rice and bean-filled chicken salad and the time we started running.  I remembered that my body has been used to running in temperatures between 8 and 40 degrees for at least the last 6 months, so my body will be sensitive to running in almost 60 degrees.  I thought of how I had pushed myself pretty hard for two runs wednesday and thursday and couldn't get around to my run on friday.  My body probably needed a good recovery run that day before I tried pushing myself hard again on Saturday.

But what's great about the junky run I had, is that 1) I finished it despite my uncontrollable desire to stop and 2) I was reminded about what I needed to be careful about if I'm going to expect a good run, especially with warmer weather coming.  The longer I've been running, the more sensitive my body is to ev-er-y-thing.  Especially while training for a marathon.  And especially food, curse my sensitive stomach.  It's mostly a good thing.

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-Ever had a junky run and realized afterwards that you probably could have prevented it if you were a little more careful with your eating/hydration/sleeping/training?

-Ever read stories about junky runs and are glad you don't run?
Ha yeah I used to...and sometimes I still do...I'm half-joking...

The Woodlands Marathon 2012

We did it!  March 3rd we woke up to 50 degree, low humidity weather and spent the morning running our road races.  It was definitely a family event, which made it that much more memorable.

The whole clan just before the half and full marathoners split into their corrals to start the race.

My lovely parents about to start their first road race.  My dad ran the full marathon and 

my mom ran the half-marathon.

 The two couples.

Thanks to the long and slow moving line at the port-a-potties, my dad and I barely made it into our corral before the gun shot off to begin the race.  We crossed the start line and my dad said in a surprised voice, "Whoa...we're really starting this aren't we? Are we really about to run this??"  I just laughed and told him there was no going back now...

The course was different than most; it was a 13.1 mile loop.  This meant that those running the half-marathon ran the loop once...but those running the full marathon ran the loop twice.  

Completing our 18-week training programs separately and in different states, only to come together on race day and run 26.2 miles side-by-side, was not ideal; but my dad and I had no choice.  He would tell me throughout our training how slow he was and how he "just wanted to finish" the marathon and didn't care about completing the race within a certain amount of time.  I didn't mind and was in full support of his request.  The only detail I cared about was running the entire race with my dad, no matter the pace.  If he wanted to push himself and give it all he had, leaving him wasted by the end of the race, be my guest and count me in.  If he wanted to take it easy and finish the race stress-free, crossing the finish line at 5:00 hrs, I'm happy either way.  My dad jokes that he flew me to Texas to run the marathon with him only because I'm a paramedic and would know how to save his life when he collapsed during the race.  

Come race day, the truth came out!  I knew all along that he could run faster than he thought.  I knew he would become the tiniest bit competitive once he soaked up the race's atmosphere.  As we were running the first few miles of the race together, I would call out our pace to him {using my gps watch} and he didn't believe me.  He expected himself to be keeping a 10:30/mile pace, but we had maintained a 9:30/mile pace in the first several miles, and we both felt awesome.  The excitement and adrenaline of the race was  contagious.  As the course winded through the neighborhoods and streets of this community I grew up in, we spent time reminiscing, discussing changes in our lives, noticing the changes  to the community in the last few years, et cetera.  We were running at a good and comfortable pace, keeping constant conversation.  We made sure to grab cups of water and gatorade at the water stations posted every mile and a half to keep hydrated, in addition to eating our Gu gels.

At about mile 9 and even more so at mile 10, half-marathoners were racing past us left and right.  It gave off an exciting vibe to be running the same course as them.  Several people we knew were passing us as they neared their finish line of 13.1 miles.  Zuriel passed us at about mile 10 and it was so exciting to see him!  He was running hard and finished the race strong.  As we came up on the mile 13 post, it was interesting to pass the turn off for the finish line and continue running the same loop again.  We grabbed orange slices just before mile post 14 and they tasted a-mazing.  

Running the loop the second time around was a reminder of how few people were running the full marathon in comparison to the half.  The crowd of runners had definitely thinned out by now.  I knew this was it...the mental battle would begin during this second and final loop.  The weather was still beautiful, our pace was still comfortable, our legs weren't tired or cramping, and we were feeling good.

And then came mile 18.  My dad was feeling great, and so was I, but I was suddenly getting a hint of nausea.  It was subtle, but I knew it was there.  I continued running happily, but nervously, waving to the sporadic groups of people cheering. I decided to cheer along with them because I couldn't resist their enthusiasm and encouragement.

Mile post 20 came and the nausea unmistakably intensified.  I had to say something at this point.  I asked my dad how he felt and he said he was a little tired but he was doing fine.  Then he asked how I was doing.  I admitted that I felt pretty nauseous and was hoping it would go away but that it was unfortunately getting worse.  

Just after passing the 20-mile marker, a couple friends ran into us and began to chat.  They told us their finish time goal and my dad told them we were also probably going to be finishing around the same time.  A second later I felt that dreaded feeling in my stomach and grabbed my dad's arm while telling him I had to stop.  I took two steps into the grass and threw up more fluid than I knew I had in me.  It wasn't a weak-sauce 'spit up' but a legitimate projectile vomit of water+gatorade+Gu gels.  I shook my head, looked at my dad and he was half turned away from me {I don't blame him}.  I then took two steps, and threw up again.  I thought, "Seriously?!"  And two steps later, I threw up again.  I stood up and looked at my dad again.  This time he asked if I was okay.  I said yes, and started running again.  

After taking that 60-second 'break', I {naturally} felt significantly better.  There was a water station a mile away and as we jogged past it, I grabbed three of those half-filled dixie cups of water.  I drank one right away and sipped on the other two for the next quarter mile.  By mile 24 I started to feel pretty shaky...you know, the weak and shaky feeling after throwing up?  Yeah, that one.  Just two more miles...just two more miles...just two more miles...

Just as we were diagonally crossing a 4-way intersection, I felt 'it' in my stomach again.  Perfect.  Right in the middle of the intersection, in front of the cop directing traffic, and in front of the lines of cars waiting for these crazy marathoners to cross the street.  I tightly closed my mouth and started making panicking sounds, which made my dad look at me with concern and confusion.  I sped up to get through the intersection, but I knew it was coming.  I turned to the grass, then wished I hadn't because a group of nearby kids were conveniently watching my every move.  I ran about 10 feet ahead of the kids, turned my back to them, and out came the projectile vomit once again.  This time I couldn't 'shake it off' and keep running.  My vision became a little hazy and I felt a little bit like the trees were spinning.  Then I took a couple steps and threw up one last time as an 'encore' to the exciting show.

I could hear my dad at this point.  He was telling me to keep running with him, that the finish line was right around the corner.  I didn't believe him.  I hadn't seen the 25-mile marker yet.  Sure enough, after a few seconds of running we saw the 26-mile post.  Hallelujah!  I told my dad I couldn't believe it was the end, that we were really about to finish this race together!  We both ran the last 0.2 miles of the 26.2 mile race at a dead sprint and crossed the finish line at the same time with tears in our eyes.  They were tears of joy, accomplishment, and a bit of exhaustion all mixed together.  

Tired and in awe that he finished his first marathon...way to go!

Once we finished and took a couple pictures, I grabbed onto Zuriel and told him I needed food right away.  He held me and walked me over to pick up my 'finishers t-shirt', then walked me over to where they were handing out food.  I walked through the line, was handed a bowl and an orange and I just sat down on the grass.  I felt so weak.  After a couple minutes of sitting and eating an orange slice, I got up to finish getting the rest of my food.  I walked out from the food line and told Zuriel I needed to lay down in some shade.  Everyone was sitting at tables and it made me feel sick to my stomach when I thought of sitting in a chair.  I was laying halfway under a table, crying, when a medical person came over and asked if I was okay.  Zuriel said, "Well, she might need someone to help her..."  He didn't need to say anything else.  Within two minutes a paramedic was by my side, asking me what happened.  Another minute later I was taken by a golf cart to the 'medical tent'.  Being a paramedic, I was embarrassed to be a patient, but of course, I was as compliant as I could be.

Once in the tent and laying on a bed, two nurses and a doctor were by my side asking questions and doing their assessment.  I thought they might want to give me an IV and I was hesitant to allow them, until I heard how low my blood pressure was.  I knew that if I were the paramedic and had a patient with my same symptoms and vital signs, I would make sure my patient got an IV.    So there I was, getting a couple bags of fluid, trying to recover and make the nausea and dehydration {from all of that vomiting} go away.  My concerned mother decided to capture the moment by taking a picture.  I wasn't going to include it, but it's a memory--embarrassing or not.

I didn't realize until after I had been 'recovering' in the medical tent for a while, how confused I had felt and how hazy my vision was prior to receiving any treatment.  Zuriel says that now I know how my patients might feel...  

Besides being able to see and think more clearly, I knew I was feeling better when I had an appetite again.  I told the nurse I felt hungry and she said "Well that's a good sign! You just ran a marathon!"  Then I admitted that one of the many reasons I run is because I feel that I have more liberty when I eat than I would otherwise.  She said she felt the same way and told me that she responds to friends who ask her why she runs with, "I run because I like cheeseburgers!"  Fair enough.

I'm not sure what caused my nausea and vomiting this time around.  If anything, I felt more ready and prepared for this race compared to my last marathon {including what I ate, drank, and how much I slept the week of the race}.  

Despite it all, I have no regrets and I had an incredible and unforgettable time running my 2nd marathon with my dad.  Ironically, It wasn't my dad who needed the medical attention afterall...

*my blog post about my first marathon can be found here

Week 15, Round two

Saturday was a big day for me.  I knew that day would arrive quicker than anticipated and I knew it'd be somewhat of a determining factor--especially for my confidence going into the race.

Training for a marathon takes time and dedication.  And good running shoes.  But mostly, just time and dedication. Most training programs are 18-week programs, and two days ago was the end of my 15th week for the second time in my life.  Meaning, race day is less than three weeks away.....!

A couple posts ago I talked about how everything inside of me did not want to go for a run that day.  In the end, I ended up running the needed distance and was incredibly grateful I did.  One reason that particular run was so important was because whether I completed it or not would determine my ability to complete the long run on Saturday.  I was also sick and unable to run the week prior so I knew time to 'get my runs in' before race day was quickly diminishing--especially if I wanted to decrease my risk of injury from training too hard, too fast.  

Saturday morning came.  I woke up, ate a bagel with cream cheese, and got my 'gear' ready for my run while waiting for my food to settle.  I was preparing myself to run 20 miles, which was expected to take me 3 hours and 10 minutes, roughly.  For the run, I needed to wear a fuel belt.  The picture to the right is me and one of my friends running a half-marathon.  Looking back, we probably didn't need to wear our belts for that race...oh well.  If you can see, there is a small pouch in the center and two containers on either side.  For my Saturday run, one container was filled with water, the other with gatorade.  The tiny pouch was beyond 'stuffed to the brim' with my phone {in case of emergency}, PowerBar energy blasts,  and one Gu gel packet {the other 3 Gu gel packs were stuffed in my sportsbra}.  

I was so nervous, but excited.  To minimize insecurity and doubt for my upcoming marathon, I needed to finish this run, and preferably well. 

I wasn't in the mood to run 'out and back' this day--I needed some sort of loop.  So I found the loop of the half-marathon {pictured above} online and added an extra loop at the end to come up with the needed miles.  

My ipod was in my armband and I headed out.  I decided to not start off running to music, I needed to have a controlled, even pace and I wanted to soak up my surroundings--I was about to run through the back country of Eastern Idaho and I wanted to enjoy it.

It's an incredible thing to focus on your breathing, the sound of your shoes hitting the pavement, the wind, the occasional diesel truck or farm equipment drive by, cows mooing, and dogs barking.  I was so caught up in my surroundings and how my body felt, I didn't end up ever listening to my ipod the entire run. 

I ate my energy blasts and Gu gels on schedule: at mile 5, 10, and 16.  If I ever strongly believed in Gu gels, it was after this run.  I took the gels just before my body and muscles craved them and was glad I did.  

I only take my phone on long runs when I wear my fuel belt, but I'd never taken pictures.  This time it was so pretty I couldn't help it, and it only took a few seconds anyway.  

When I realized I was only a few miles from home, I couldn't believe it.  I was elated, and not necessarily for the reasons you would think.  Of course I was ecstatic because I was about to finish my 20-mile run and be able to eat, but more-so because I felt so good!  To my surprise, I didn't feel dead and utterly exhausted.  On the contrary, I felt like I could keep running.  I was on the biggest runner's high and I didn't want it to end.  Then for the first time in my training these last few weeks, I felt ready for March 3rd to grace me with it's presence.  The icing on the cake was when I looked at my watch and saw that I had run not 20 miles, but 21.

The only thing that could have made the experience that much better would have been to come home to my husband saying "I'm so proud of you!  I knew you could do it!" while giving me a big hug, despite the fact that I had dried, salty sweat all over my face and wreaked of someone who'd been sweating for over 3 hours straight.  But, since he was still in Reno, my dog sufficed.  And she was probably just as excited as he would've been because she got to lick my sweaty arms and legs while I stretched {what is it with dogs loving sweat?!}.  Gross.

Besides feeling hungry and sweaty when I got home, the only real pain I had was from the blisters I felt forming and rubbing in my shoes during my run.  I learned by about mile 11 that it was definitely time for new shoes, and quick.

If you haven't believed in yourself and in your ability to do more than you thought possible, start believing.  I know we can accomplish anything we're willing to put the time and effort into.  Sure it'll be hard, but man alive will it be worth it.  So give it a shot and test it out.  You got this.

This or that

Today I woke up with every intention of going on a run within the first 30-60 minutes of being awake.  Every intention.  In fact, I went to bed last night ready and actually looking forward to this run.  I'm weird right?  {At least it's a healthy type of weird}.

I woke up slow, getting up before 9am.  I was dressed in my long spandex with my Asics, all ready to go just before 10am. {Reminder: the long spandex is necessary--I live in Idaho where it is 14 degrees Fahrenheit at 10am this time of year}.  Long story short, I somehow became distracted and preoccupied with other important, as well as unimportant, things that kept me from starting my run.  

.....2:30pm rolls around and I'm finally turning on my garmin and jogging out the door.  

After a few hours of being dressed to run and still sitting on the couch, had the thought crossed my mind to not run?  Yes.  Lately, I've noticed that if my training for a marathon comes up in conversation, the persons listening assume I am above and beyond what I actually am.  Well surprise, I have my days where I would just rather get my errands and cleaning done, or lounge in my sweats instead of going for a two hour run.  Their reaction to my crave for running includes thoughts of how it 'comes natural' for me and how they could never get themselves 'to do that'.  My reaction is, why not??

I wasn't born with any supernatural power that enables me with a magical desire and capability to run long distances.  I haven't always been a 'runner'.  This desire and passion for running is a recent development, believe it or not.  And if I had to put a date on it, I'd say I didn't start to love distances greater than say, five miles, until about August 2010 {basically a year and a half ago}.  

The reason I mention this is because towards the end of my run today, I began thinking about how I could have {and almost did} chosen not to run.  It would have been easy to come up with justifications to lounge today, run tomorrow.

My point is, is that there is no reason you couldn't decide, just as I did, to use your agency and choose to 'go run' if that is what you desire.  There may be an array of other desires you have for yourself, and all I'm saying is maybe all you need to do, is decide to do it.  It seems a person's biggest limitations are the ones they place on themselves.  We have more will power than we think and we need to give ourselves more credit.  Of course, we would be nothing without God, but even He knows we have greater potential than we could imagine. 

Embrace the nike slogan already, and 'just do it' {whatever "it" may be}.

Thoughts

This past week has been busy, similar to the preceding weeks.  I'm not writing to complain--that's not what this blog is for.  Although I have not decided or known what this blog is for yet, I know it is not for negativity.  However, I feel content expressing my acknowledgement of hectic and busy days because it reminds me that it is normal to have 'those days' or weeks for that matter.  It is an inevitable and bittersweet part of life.

Thankfully, it is because of the negative, difficult, and busy times in my life that I can better appreciate and recognize the simple joys and blessings in each day.  I don't have to be traveling Europe on lying on an exotic beach to have a good day {although I wouldn't pass up the opportunity either}.

Today I am grateful for the education I am receiving, despite the difficulties that inevitably arise while striving to excel in it.  I told my sister-in-law the other week that when I start to get overwhelmed with school, I just think of her and how much busier than me she must be.  You see, she's in medical school.  I would be lying if I said I wouldn't love to be in medical school right along with her.  But nobody asked, and, clearly I am not.  Maybe one day...

If I've learned anything about busy and stressful times, it is that no matter how hard they seemed in the moment, I've always appreciated them later in life.  Not only have I appreciated them, but I felt indebted to those experiences.  Without them I wouldn't be as prepared for the next busy time in my life.  How else can I learn and experience personal growth?  I hope I can continue progressing and learning, to eventually reach my potential--whatever it may be.

Now back to writing my research paper...

Mesa Falls Marathon

August 27, 2011.  26.2 miles.  What a day!  I was hoping to post the same day or at least the day after so everything could be extra fresh in my mind, but, here we are...3 weeks later.  Get ready for details, because well, I love details and I don't want to forget them!

The 'race' actually starts the night before, did you know?  Well, I didn't realize that until the night before. Lovely!  It includes packing and planning and eating and drinking {water} and laying out your clothes and equipment for the big run, amongst other things.  Oh and anxiety attacks.  It's not mandatory, but apparently inevitable for miss stress-ball over here {that would be me}.  

At about 7:30pm {night before race day} I realized I had been so anxious about the next morning that I had hardly eaten anything that day, including dinner.  Ideally, I would have eaten dinner between 5:30 and 6pm, then had a snack before falling asleep comfortably and soundly by 9pm because HELLO my alarm is set for 4:30am the next morning and I want to sleep fabulously before I run the farthest I've ever run in my life.  Naturally.  Is that so much to ask?  But, instead, I panic.  I frantically look through my fridge and pantry and am at a loss of what I should/could make for dinner!  I call Zuriel, explain to him my realization of how late it is and that I hadn't eaten dinner yet and blah blah blah blah... Basically the evening went down hill from there.  He quickly came home, put me in the car, and drove me somewhere to eat.  By the time we get home it is about 8:30pm.  Long story short--I don't fall asleep until after midnight.  

Now we'll skip to more happy and exciting moments.  For example, the START LINE!  Standing at the start line was in one word, surreal.  Was I really about to run a MARATHON?  And I don't feel nervous but sincerely excited?!  I couldn't believe it.  Where did my anxiety go.

The advice I heard over and over from friends, family, and random 'marathoners' was don't start out too fast!  So from the start, I did what I could to not let the excitement and adrenaline take over and push me too fast so early in the race.  I was on my 'runner's high' from mile 1, which was very convenient!  I kept thinking I was running too slow because more people than I expected were passing me.  But when I checked my trusty watch, I was always right where I wanted to be.  

I ran sans music for the first 13 miles.  I was enjoying the beautiful scenery!  A handful of runners were even running with cameras, stopping every now and then to capture the perfect picture.  

The first ten miles were on dirt roads.  We were up in the mountains, surrounded by trees.  Yet, you knew farms weren't too far off every time you heard a cow "moo" or you just barely missed the pile of poop your shoe was about to land in.  The dirt roads turned into pavement for a few miles, until just past the point where the half-marathon started.  This is where I put my headphones in.  I can't remember how desperate I began to feel for the up-beat music, but, it seemed like as good a time as ever to use the ipod!  After a few miles running on pavement, we veered off the road to begin the trail-run portion of the race.  It was awesome!  The path was only as wide as the ATV that drove on it to create the path.  The narrow path between trees almost made you forget you were racing.  Until, of course, you bumped elbows with runners wearing bib numbers as you were passing them because of how narrow the path was.  

The end of the trail run brought you to the {dreaded} beginning of a 2-mile hill.  It was at this point {the bottom of the hill} that I saw my husband with our dog, along with my best friend and her dog, screaming and cheering me on.  It was just what I needed before I ran that hill.  Not to mention she was blasting Journey from her car for motivation...it was perfect!  I glanced up at that hill, and all I saw was runners walking {or jogging slow enough that someone could walk faster than they were running}.  Not entirely encouraging, but I'll have you know that not one person passed me going up that hill.  I ran that hill for two miles, and it felt good.  By the end of the hill, I was just past the 19-mile marker.  

The remainder of the race was mostly flat or downhill-ish, but there were a few unexpected smaller hills that I wasn't mentally prepared for {where was THAT hill on the course map?? whaaa? and another one??} you get the idea... 

Almost everyone I talked to who had run a marathon told me of this huge, massive, ugly, 50-foot thick, barbed wire "wall" that I would hit or almost literally 'run into' at the 18 or 20-mile mark.  I braced myself at both those mile markers and you know what happened?  Nothin'.  I thought man, I'm good!  Kidding.  But I was honestly a teeny tiny bit surprised.  However my surprise only lasted a few more miles because just after mile marker 22, things started to get rough.  

However, it wasn't the kind of rough I was expecting.  I thought maybe, every muscle in my body would feel like it was shredding into pieces.  Maybe my legs would feel like they weighed 300lbs...each.  Unfortunately, none of the above.  I had been feeling some minor nausea, uncomfortable epigastric pain {where people feel heartburn} since around mile marker 6, but it was bearable.  Soon after mile 22 the pain and nausea became very apparent.  The LAST thing I wanted to do was vomit.  It must have been a combination of the eating a burrito salad for dinner the night before, barely getting 4 hours of sleep, the nerves, and the extreme heat that graced its presence three hours into the race {who invited you?!}.  Who knows.  The point is, I was doing everything I could {while running that is} to not spew everywhere.  Gross.  I stopped 3 times for about 15 seconds when I literally thought I couldn't hold it down any longer.  I knew that if I did throw up, I wouldn't have the energy to finish.  Luckily after some major prayers and mental motivation, I refocused all of my attention on finishing the best I could. 

       

What surprised me about the race?  Honestly truly?  I didn't think I was going to want to stop as bad as I wanted to stop those last four miles.  But I didn't quit.  I kept running and I finished strong.  This is what I had trained for.  This is what the last 5 months have revolved around--my running schedule.  This is what my friend convinced me that I was capable of doing.  She convinced me that I didn't give myself enough credit.  That I COULD do it if I worked for it.  So I did.  That's why a marathon is so 'hard' and so 'scary' to people.  Not the physical part {believe it or not}. It is a mental battle. And that is why it is so rewarding.  Because you didn't think you could do it.  Because you didn't know it was possible.  But it is.  And you CAN do it.  

It was one of the hardest but most rewarding physical and mental things I have done.  I was fighting tears as I was running towards the finish line.  The feeling of accomplishment you're rewarded with as you cross the finish line is indescribable.  I'm so blessed to have had this experience and the support I had from friends and family.  I look forward to training for my next marathon!