FRF: Half Marathon 2013

It took me about a month to write this post because that is how long it has taken me to recover from the brutality of running a half marathon with little to no training.  *facepalm*

Last time I ran this race I was able to run with my dad but with him breaking his back earlier this year he wasn't able to run.  Clay graciously offered to stay with me no matter how fast or slow I may end up going.  This sounded like a great idea to me.

The only thing I was nervous about was the dreaded...

MILE 9

I hit the wall at mile 9...and I was going to hit that wall hard!  Two years ago when I ran this race that was the mile that my mind began to turn on me and I began to cry uncontrollably (I'm sure the other runners thought I was in pain...and I was...mentally).  I usually go running when something is bothering me so running has become really emotional for me and more often then not you can find me bawling on a park bench on a trail...yeah I'm a freak.

Okay, okay, enough of me convincing you that I'm nuts and let me tell you about this race.
So we start to run and my sister-in-law, Kari, starts to run with us.  It was awesome because she would crack jokes, talk to the other runners, and generally keep the mood light.  I knew that this year was going to be different and as long as we stayed together I knew that I could run through mile 9.

Well that WAS the plan...but Clay and Kari both decided that they had to use the bathroom and the next chance to do so was of course....at the start of mile 9.  We talked and decided that I would keep running and they would just catch up to me when they were finished.

So there I was...starting mile 9 and all I kept thinking was how I am going to kick mile 9's ASS.  In fact I started to increase my speed.  I just wanted to get it over with so that I can start mile 10 and get my 3rd wind.

But the inevitable happened about a quarter of the way in.  I began to tear up.  I was still running but I started to think about the things in my life that I had no control over.

I didn't have a job.

I didn't have any friends in Utah.

I never wanted to leave Alabama.

My husband was always working.

Not a single neighbor had acknowledged our existence.

I didn't know where half my clothes were because they were in boxes.

My living room was a horrid shade of green.

I couldn't become pregnant.

I was lost...simply lost.

From reading the list you can tell that those things I can usually handle but during mile 9 it seemed like each of those reasons were alone enough for me to stop running.

and then something happened...I got mad.

REALLY MAD

I began to run faster and I began to let the tears burn on my cheeks and I began to talk to myself.  With every step I said:

I deserve to be successful

I deserve to have friends

I deserve to be a mom

I deserve to be happy

I deserve to be found

At this point I am sure all the runners around me thought I was completely insane...and I can't honestly say that I wasn't.  But next thing I knew I had hit mile 10.  I thought to myself "wait what??  I actually kicked mile 9's ass?  The crazy cat lady self talk worked?  Well howdy-do-mae."

It wasn't long after that I heard Clay and Kari yelling for me and I looked behind to see they were trying to catch up so I slowed wwwaaayyy down (okay, okay I started walking) to let them get to me.

I finished the race hand in hand with Clay and Kari in front of us (beat last year's time by 12 mins...boo ya grandma).  I felt like fainting but instead ate 16 pieces of bread with extra butter and a side of chocolate milk.  Best thing I ever tasted.

Looking back I think it is interesting that the ONLY mile I did by myself happened to be mile 9...but maybe it didn't just happen.  Sometimes I think God looks down at us and chuckles while thinking "this should be good" (he is my favorite like that).  I am really glad that I didn't give up on myself.  The support I get from my family and friends (yes I now have friends) aren't going to be effective if I don't support myself.  I do deserve good things in my life and I deserve to work really hard to make those things happen.

To end this post on a lighter note I thought I would share a photo that I stole off the internet of Clay (I hate those photographers for sneaking up on us).

Incredibly good looking guy right?? This is after 7 miles...but wait where is Chelsea?

Well since you asked...

*hangs head* Yes...that is me...yes, they cut half of me off...yes, my face is a lovely shade of crazy...yes, my shorts are riding up...yes, I am giving a thumbs up  *hides in a corner*

"...stupid Clay...always so ridiculously handsome...yuck"