I don't know where I'm goin'
But I sure know where I've been
Hanging on the promises in songs of yesterday
An' I've made up my mind, I ain't wasting no more time
Here I go again, here I go again
Ah yes. Whitesnake, the consummate 80's hair band. Reminds me of my college days with my gigantic hair supported with the superhuman hairspray, better known as Aquanet, that my sorority sisters and I consumed so much of. I am still quite certain there is a large hole in the ozone over 200 South Summit in Iowa City. As I chuckle about that it dawns on me I am alone. Jogging along in a sea of humanity alone in my own thoughts and music for the first time in a while, as life's busy has consumed me for some time. I would see the sun starting to poke through the clouds, enjoy the newness of a beautiful 13 mile downhill rail trail and revel in how strong I was feeling in those early moments. Check the pace.... first mile 10:02. Well shit. My half pace is really more of 11:30, but this was down hill I was good. I was ready to roll.
Tho' I keep searching for an answer
I never seem to find what I'm looking for
Oh Lord, I pray you give me strength to carry on
'
That is, I was fine til I wasn't. My strength began to waver, my hips and quads began to hurt. As it turns out, a 13.1 mile downhill course was not easier, it was different. Coming out of the gate too quick, new muscles activated, running alone, as my last half was in Disney and run with my son, suddenly everything was a whole lot harder. I started walking at intervals at mile 9, and I really did hope I had the strength to carry on. In the end, my splits would get progressively slower and I would finish a painful 2 minutes behind my half that I did in October and nine minutes shy of my goal. I would spend the next few days analyzing what I did. I should have come out slower. I should have had more even splits. I should have trained longer distances. If only I did.... I should have.... Days of this self questioning.
Then it would happen. A seasoned distance runner in my motivational group would post a simple meme,"celebrate the finish line, not the finish time." I was so busy being disappointed in my lack of PR, or my slower time from October I had missed it.
And here I go again on my own
Goin' down the only road I've ever known
Like a drifter I was born to walk alone
As it turns out, going out on my own, lost in my own personal race critique, I had missed a lot of things that happened in that race far beyond the timer. There was the amazing scenery of the newly opened rail trail in Upstate New York, complete with rolling streams, and the sun shining through the trees on a beautiful spring day. Not to mention being part of an inaugural half on this very trail. There were the thousands of well wishers who gave high fives as I passed by and rang cow bells. There was being passed by one of my trainers as he patted my arm and told me to keep going. I would later be passed by two of the most seasoned distance runners I am blessed to call friends, one at mile 3, one at mile 4, who would both ask if I was OK and to tell me,"you got this," reminding me of the amazing people in my life committed to my success. I would be completely struggling at mile ten, only to hear,"Sweet Caroline" which was my mom's favorite song, to remind me once again, even though she is not physically here anymore, she can still find ways to show me she is always in my corner, which admittedly brought some tears through the physical pain I was in at that moment. Ultimately, I would hit the finish and be met by a few of my faster teammates who cheered for me like any solid teammate would. Later, I would see an epic finish by a previously injured teammate, a smile that could only be characterized by freedom across the face of another who has lost over 100 pounds as she finished, and the finishes of two others who had taken on their epic first half marathon.
I now begin to wonder, how many times do we go out again on our own, working on getting our own pace right, trying to power through the tough stuff, yet drowning in our own disappointment when we miss the mark we have set for ourselves, and later obsessively trying to figure out how to do it better. Probably, the better focus is in on the achievement itself, taking advantage of the amazing people and stops along the way that got us there regardless of timing.
In the end, we did celebrate at the finish. We raised our individual bottles of prosecco, as is our 1DOS tradition, had a lot of laughs, took turns at the massage tables, and took the most epic after shots to date. For me, maybe the walk alone thing as Whitesnake suggests is not quite the right choice but, there is something this song gets right on the money.
An' I've made up my mind, I ain't wasting no more time
It's time for me to continue to invest in solid training, stop worrying about the PR, begin to revel in the fact that I have the most amazing half sisters (13.1), embracing that the journey to the goal will always teach me more than any PR, and most importantly stand firm in the knowledge that the best is yet to come.
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