Post-Race Thoughts on 13.1

Well...it wasn't pretty, but I did it! I completed the Illinois Half-Marathon. Thank you to Diane who stayed by my side for the entire race and kept me running when I would have been walking and for making sure that my lungs didn't give up at the end. You have always been my best running partner and it was SO AWESOME to spend 13.1 miles catching up on our lives, have a few laughs, and do some sweating together!

I honestly wasn't sure I'd even be able to run the race at all. Two weeks before the race, Rachel got sick. The next day, I got sick- and so did Nancy. All the Held Women were afflicted- even Sarah- but her germs were different than ours. Anyways, it wasn't pretty. Puffs stocks probably rose significantly that week. The week of the race, my nose was no longer a faucet but I had a terrible cough. A trip to the doctor where I explained my plan for the weekend and I left with antibiotic, Allegra, Flonase...pretty much anything she could give me that might help. But I wasn't going to give up. No way. We Kenzie women are not quitters and I was not going to let some virus and hacking out a lung - or two- keep me from the race day fun!

I stayed over at my friend Jen's house. Jen- your home is beautiful. You are the absolute best hostess ever and I enjoyed catching up on the last 12 years in one night! Obviously, we stayed up late talking, which really was fine with me. I wasn't going to sleep anyway. Just looking through the runners guide and laying out my number and shoes for the next morning was enough to make me throw up.

The next morning dawned and God took pity on me and blessed me with the best possible day EVER for running. The temperature was in the 50's for the start. Sun was shining...not much of a breeze. THOUSANDS of crazy people lined up to run either 13.1 or 26.2 miles. The marching band played the 3-in-1 and Illinois Loyalty. The Star Spangled Banner played. Each coral of people started the race based on their prospective finish time. I was at the back...and totally cool with that! Our turn came and we were off...running down 1st street. The first couple of miles went well. I enjoyed the cheering crowds and the frat boys on their porch obviously still a little drunk from the night before. We made the trun onto Green, which looks NOTHING like it used to. Up ahead all I could see were thousands and thousands of runners. It was awesome. I think there may have even been a few behind me too. Around mile 3, I came up behind a man wearing a t-shirt that said "I'm running to find a bathroom". If only I had known how much of a foreshadow that would be... Along the entire route were people cheering us on. It was pretty awesome. Little kids offering high fives (heck ya!) and signs reminding loved ones that beer is at the finish. Things went well until sometime after the mile 7 mark. My biggest runners nightmare played out for real. My stomach and colon revolted. They were no longer interested in running and wanted to make sure I knew it. Now, the runners guide boasting of the number of portapotties on the route. Do you think there were any when I needed one? Oh ho ho no. That would have made it less embarassing. So...we slowed to a brisk walk for mile 7 until up ahead at mile 8, a line of portapotties emerged. I have never been so happy to see a portapottie in my LIFE. I usually refuse to use them. But, all was well. Diane and I jogged and walked miles 8 and 9 through the park that would not end. Lord, it seemed to go on forever! Diane MADE me eat one of the honey energy packets. While I usually enjoy honey on a biscuit or in my tea, I'm here to tell you that in the middle of a 13 mile walk/jog/slow plod, honey does not taste good. At all. It took me 3 miles to get one packet down. I'm researching energy options for future endeavors, because those aren't going to work for me. Mile 10 came into view...on Race Street, right along married student housing. I recognized the balconies of the buildings from pictures taken there when I was about Rachel's age - or smaller. This is where things got ugly. My legs were done. I can't really describe the sensation other than to say it was a burning numbness that started in my calves and slowly spread up my legs and hips over the last 3 miles. With a half mile to go, I decided that I was going to ignore my burning and numb legs and jog into the stadium. Oh, how my lungs were not on board with that idea. Thankfully, Diane, who had run many miles with me in high school track was there as I coughed, hyperventilated, and felt like my lungs might explode after the race. We walked and breathed and walked some more until I could finally breathe again. I did it! I still can't hardly believe it. Craziest part, I think I would even do it again!
So...that is my half marathon story. My Granny is still running hers. 5 more treatments until her finish line. She's going to make it to the end...and I'm sure her finish will be far more graceful than mine. And when she is done, all her family and friends will be cheering for her...me the loudest of all.