The time I ran a half marathon

So, I ran a half marathon November 9th.  It was sort of a big deal for me.  I mean, I basically flunked out passed out off the track  in high school during a sprint.  I had to quit track because I couldn't run farther than a mile.  This was 13.1 miles, guys.  Seriously.  Thirteen point freaking one miles.

  I hurt my knee a few weeks before the half, so I was forced to take some time off after by my physical therapist and doctor (and, really, my knees.  They hate me.)  What was a month of PT and time off running has now, as of tomorrow, turned into two, and, unfortunately, is extended into the unforeseeable future.  (For those who are interested, I go back to the doctor tomorrow.  Two months of PT fixed one knee, but not the other.)

I didn't post about my half before because I was pouting.  For two months.  I stewed, pretty pissed off that I can't run.  Embarrassed, I guess, that I was posting about my half marathon as a "runner" but was unable to run.  I felt like a fraud.  (Also, spending two months working through my identity in Christ as his daughter, and not as a "runner" or some one who worked really hard at something and achieves a goal.  Tough stuff.)

But, I guess I've come to the conclusion that I DID run a half marathon (ground breaking conclusion, no?)  no matter what I'm doing now.  So, I guess I'll share. 

My friend's husband graciously picked up our packets for us and sent me a picture of my number the day before our race. 

It was a cold morning.  We had mittens, hats, coats, pants.  I almost didn't want to take off my pants for the start, but knew I'd be hot after a few miles.  (I think I gave my coat to E around mile 7.)  

My friends and I started towards the back.  I was anticipating a rather slow finish: me with my knees, my friend T who was 11 weeks postpartum, and a friend who's longest run had been 8 miles.  My goal was to finish and to have fun.

The first few miles, I entertained a few of our group by telling them about a horrendous birth I had just attended.  It was the week prior and the indignities, disrespect, and abuse were fresh on my mind.  I ranted for a good 2-3 miles.  

Mile 3 my knee is starting to stab, so I yank off the tape the PT had put on the night before at a late night appointment (6pm.  she was good to me.) 

Mile 5, and  I'm still hanging with my homies, (there's my friend T who ran the 10k with me)  Still feeling pretty good, though I remember my knee starting to hurt pretty bad. 

After mile 6 or so, my "bad" knee went completely numb.  It was seriously amazing.  When I was running, I felt little to no pain.  Every time I stopped to walk, it was painful.  

Miles 6,7,8, were pretty- most of that time spent on a greenway.  E and the kids stopped and visited, too.

Mile10- My running buddies and I had planned to do walk/run (when I trained I walked after every mile for about a minute), but I ended up breaking off  because it hurt too much to walk. 

Mile 11, I remember thinking/praying that I was actually going to do this thing.  I had 2.1 miles to go.  I was going to finish!

Mile 12, my other knee started to hurt some, but my bad knee was still numb.  I cried from the relief that I was going to finish.

Mile 13, there was a lady in front of me that had been there a while, but was slowing down.  I saw my training girls at the finish line, telling me to kick it into gear and pass her.  So, I sprint it in for the finish.  

I'm in the yellow shirt.  My chip time was something like 2:38:07

Some of my running friends.

My friend T and I. 

I did most of my training with this girl.  She's amazing!  She was such a wonderful partner.  I miss running with her like crazy!

My friend's husband captured this gem right before the finish line.  This is what I actually felt like the last .1.  

There you have it.  My half marathon.  Since it may be my only half marathon I ever run, I'm glad I was able to do it with my friends and not kill myself for a certain "time".