My Write to Run

So, it’s about time to talk about this whole running thing. Since the beginning of the summer I’ve been training for a half-marathon. Now, I have friends who collect half marathons like samples at Costco, a new one every few steps. I, on the other hand, simply collect samples at Costco. I once TRAINED for a 5k, and it was brutal. So, this is big.

The race is one week from today. I only really committed to doing it a few weeks ago, and then only in my head. Wednesday after my morning run, I finally sat down at the computer to register. Guess what I saw?

This:

I was particularly distressed by this little section:

WHAT???

Now, I went through a whole range of emotions. None of them excitement or relief. In a brief temporary insanity I considered just registering for and running the full marathon, which still has some open spots. Then I put on my thinking cap and thought.

First, I emailed:

To Whom It May Concern:

Would you please allow me to register for the half marathon? I have been training for this half-marathon for 4 months with a group of friends. All three have registered for the race, and I had simply forgotten to actually sign up! I am now sitting down to register (finally!) and see that the half is full! I understand I procrastinated, and was irresponsible, however, I would really like to run this race.

Please let me know,

Miranda

Next, I scoured craigslist for injured people selling their packets. To no avail.

Then, I composed an email to Mark, the race director, left it almost finished, and went help a friend for a couple hours. When I returned I found that I had received a reply to my first email:

Miranda,

Bummer…{paraphrasing: blah, blah, blah, we’re over our permit, blah, blah, there is still room in the full marathon and it’s downhill for 16 miles, blah, blah.}

All the best,

Mark

Hmm. There it was again, that temporary insanity whispering “Run the marathon! Run the marathon!” I squashed it firmly and decided I have more power in prose than in distance running.

I finished the second email:

Hi Mark,

Thanks for your reply. I understand you are already over your limit for the half. I would love to be squeezed in as maybe just one more over the permit… Here’s why:

I am not a runner. At least, not until four months ago. It was an innocent-looking, casual email invitation from a friend that started the ball rolling. She was training for the Freedom’s Run half-marathon and looking for running partners. Four days a week, six o’clock in the morning, ready-or-not, she would be pounding pavement. Be there or be… fast asleep waiting for the toddler to cry signaling the beginning of yet another day where exercise just didn’t fit the schedule. Luckily, I chose the first.

Waking up before dawn and running in DC’s ninety-plus-humidity did not sound like fun. It did, however, sound like a challenge that would push my body and allow me to get outside of my head. It had been just two weeks since I discovered that my much anticipated and hoped for second pregnancy was going to end short, as the fetus was no longer viable. I experienced a swift and overwhelming miscarriage, and was recommended by my doctor to take a few months to heal, emotionally and physically, before trying to conceive again.

My first child, a busy, bustling, red-head boy, occupies my days from seven to seven. Running at six would possibly be my only chance to really get back in shape, really take some time to heal, really connect with good friends and work towards a meaningful and measurable goal: finishing a half-marathon. It would be the victory lap to a summer of recovery and training, as well as the perfect preparation for growing our family once again.

The first week was semi-brutal. The runs were elementary as far as distance-running is concerned. Only three miles and I was wishing I had slept in. Actually, in those first few weeks, there were a good number of days that I did sleep in. And not really regret it. Then, the lively conversation with friends kept me coming. Starting the day with some good old girl talk and a little sweat was filling a little of that hole in my life. I felt a little more connected, a little more relieved, a little more productive and a little more balanced. However, I did not yet feel like a “runner” and I did not yet have the confidence to register for the race. I hoped I would feel like I could do it, but I wasn’t yet sure.

The weeks continued. My body learned to run. There was a moment during one of our long Saturday runs, maybe a nine-miler, that I realized that my muscles were getting tired, but my heart rate felt steady and my breathing unlabored. It hit me that though my shape, size and weight remained unchanged, my vital systems were gaining strength and endurance. I was changing from the inside out.

Now I am 7 days from what was supposed to be a crowning accomplishment of hope, dedication, and consistency. Due to my own initial lack of confidence, and then more recently the firm decision to run the race– without the first step of registration, I am stuck. I’ve got a hotel reservation with my running partners, a carpool arranged for my husband and son to meet me at the finish line, and no place in the race!

I know that there are a lot of people who are interested in running the half-marathon next week. That’s why it is full and overflowing. I am one of them, and would love for you to create a little space for me and my story.

Please consider it.

Thank you sincerely,

Miranda

I pressed send.

And then googled “running a marathon without training.”

Within a couple minutes, I had a reply from Mark:

Miranda,

If we get our permit yanked by being one over I’ll share your email and go down with the ship. Your message and feeling of health improvement are what we are all about.

Print the paper reg and mail in asap

Mark

Whoohoo! I was elated and couldn’t stop smiling! I even let out a few silly wiggles and squeals before printing the registration, writing the check, stamping the envelope and dropping it in the mail asap. I had no idea how important this race was to me until I was faced with the risk of not being able to run it! Typical, huh?

I didn’t get to sleep until late, but was so excited to get up before dawn and join my pavement pounding partners. It would be our last Saturday run before race day.

Then I overslept.

But, I hit the sidewalk alone and spend six miles pushing my body and getting out of my head.