Lions, Tigers & Bears!

In the midst of all the responsible adult things that I have filtering through my life, I completely forgot that I went to San Diego....

It was a good trip, not our best, but definitely worth remembering. So excuse my mistake and here are some pictures.

We flew in Friday night and met up with C for some Thai food. The rest of that night was filled with Lord of the Rings trivia and much laughter. Let's just say that I know who exactly to go to if I need an elvish translator :)

We set off early the next morning to pick up our packets. We stopped by the farmer's market and picked up some delicious bagels before we headed to the beach!

Unfortunately, the beach was way too windy. But we did get some pretty great model-esque pictures of us...that are too awesome to be shown to the public.

A change of plans landed us at the Cinco de Mayo celebration at Old Town San Diego where I spent the best three bucks of the entire trip.

That's right. There was a petting zoo! No one else was concerned about the number of goats about to climb Lauren...

And then it was race day! Half marathons are always such mixture of hate, joy, regret, excitement, and pain. I didn't sleep at all, because naturally the night before running 13.1 miles, it is advisable for a body to stay awake all night. After a scare of having no aid stations in the accurate mile points, we were faced with giant sand hills. No joke, hills made of sand. Needless to say, it was a tough race but we finished! And that is all that matters. 

Finisher

B and I got off the shuttle bus at an early 3:40 am and instantly thought it was the end of the world. There were a few giant spotlights lighting up a sad looking field with black shadows crowding around a few orange pits.

After joking about how the end of the world would feel like,  we chose a small spot against a concrete barrier and decided to prep for the next 13.1 miles. It is a rare moment that I had such energy at 3 am with only two hours of sleep to run a half-marathon. Everything seemed like it was going well, we had carbo loaded the night before and trained the last three months just for the next two hours. We picked a pacer and counted down the minutes before the race started.

As we ran through the third mile, my already tender right ankle gave the tiniest bit of warning. So I slowed down and thought it safer to join back with our pacer. I ran with the pacer until I felt that my ankle was warmed up and would be fine. So I sped up.

And boy, did it feel good. My legs were warmed up, my breathing was in sync, and I was heading towards mile six.

Maybe it was because I was on such a high from the recent burst of energy and endorphins, but I was definitely not looking at where I was running. With all the weaving and darting between people, I didn't even notice a fist size piece of asphalt rock that had come loose from the road.

Next thing I knew, I was face first on the road. A middle aged women was the first to reach me, she picked up the rock with one swift motion, threw it to the side and asked if I was ok.

I was so shocked as to what happen, I just stared at her and tried to get up.

My ankle was not having it. I looked down, and in the seconds from when I was running to when I landed on the ground it was already swelling and bruising.

I froze.

Two other men picked me up and sat me on the side of the road, asking several questions. And all I could do was reassure them that I was fine and they should keep going.

I sat on the side of the road with really only one thought running through my mind.

I was not going to finish. I was not going to get my medal. I was not going to finish. I was not going to be able to run my race.

Knowing I couldn't just sit there, I tried walking on it. My ankle was definitely in pain, but I could hobble on the ball of my right foot and walk.

I limped down the next mile or so to the nearest aid station. Still in a daze, an older lady and a young man quickly took off my shoe and start to bandage me up.

"It is swelling up pretty fast..."

"Alright, I'm just going to wrap this up. Let me know if it is too tight."

"Yes, I am at aid station marker 9. I have a lady here who has a pretty bad sprain. Could you get a medical transport?"

"Now I don't want you beating yourself up over this. It's just a race, lets just focus on getting this fixed."

"Here are some pain killers..I am going to put some vaseline on that knee of yours. I wished I had a larger bandage for that cut."

"Lets get you some ice."

This was all said between my tears. My ankle did hurt, but I was crying mostly out of shock that this was happening. I had expected my ankle to act up, but out of previous use, not because I somehow managed to trip over a rock.

I swallowed the pain killers and realized I could finish this. I only needed to finish the entire race in 4 hours to get a medal. And I was already half way there. I had at least 3 hours to walk or limp the next 7 miles.

So I grabbed my shoe and got up and went for it.

I ran past the finish line, finishing at exactly 3 hours.

I obviously did not get the time I wanted to, nor was it the most ideal physical situation to be in, but I finished. And I got my medal.

So now that I am on crutches with a boot on my purple swelling ankle, I am still glad that I decided to get up and become a finisher.

Marathon

I'm finally doing it.

I'm going to run a half-marathon. (13 miles to be exact)

I picked up running the summer before I entered high school. I ran 1.5 miles everyday. I'm not sure what quite caused this burst of running obsession, but it quickly died when I actually entered high school.

After that, running was mostly on and off. Sometimes I would go running week after week, and then months and months without even thinking about it. If I did run, it was for exercise/health's sake. I actually really hated the idea of running.

Sophomore year rolled around, and when you become an adult, you do things that you don't like to do.
Running was one of those things.
I made running/exercising a priority and was partially successful in accomplishing this goal. It wasn't until my junior year that I really started thinking of running in a new light.

Running became an outlet. It was, and still is, such a great way for me to have time to myself, to have time and space for me to organize my thoughts/feelings and not feel guilty about it!

During my time in DC, I ran everyday. Being in an office for 10 hours day can really mess you up, so I would exercise after work.

Over the weeks, I could feel the strength in my legs and the improvement in my ability to exercise longer.

It was empowering.

Something I disliked so much before was now something I could do.

And there is something so gratifying when you look at the distance that you came from and realize how much  you can do if you only just put yourself to it.

So training starts next week, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. My stomach gets all tied up when I think about running my first race.

I'll be running the Utah Valley Marathon. It starts near the mouth of Sundance and ends at the Provo Tabernacle Park. For those who finish under 4 hours, you get a fancy medal. All fees/proceeds go towards the Children with Cancer foundation. {How can you beat that? A medal, a sense of accomplishment and reward, AND a charitable cause!}

Like the caption says below,

Pain you enjoy.