More than just 13.1
Exhaustion and joy at finishing our first half-marathon.
With pain shooting through my legs as I neared the finish line, I asked myself again why I agreed to run this half-marathon. I have never enjoyed running. I tolerated it in order to play sports and now I tolerate it because I must. The Army expects you to meet the minimum standard of running 5 miles in under 40 minutes. I am also in the 82ND Airborne Division and they have a rich and enduring love affair with running. I believe the top leadership would have everyone running every day.
It did not surprise me then when our Brigade Commander asked for the Soldiers in our Brigade to support the Tobacco Road Marathon by volunteering or running either the half or full marathon. Anyone who has been in the Army for any time will know that when Officers are asked to volunteer for something there is an unspoken rule that means you better signup or it will reflect poorly on you and your chain of command. I buckled under the pressure and signed up.
This did not sit well with me since I have made it a point to avoid these large races over the years. Not to mention that I was nursing a hamstring injury and was unable to train for this distance. The morning of the race I was a little nervous, but excited to be running with many of my friends. My goals for the day were to finish the race without taking a “walk” break, and to run the race in under 2 hours. I can’t tell you why I said 2 hours, but it seemed like a good number at the time.
The beginning of a race is an important time for most runners. I’ve been warned many times that you don’t want to give in to the impulse to sprint along with the more advanced runners and throw off your pace. I also know from experience with shorter runs in the Army that if I start off at that sprint it is incredibly hard to push towards the end. Not to mention that I enjoy trying to pass runners one by one at the end as an incentive. This race was no different. I had that pull to stay with the front-runners but somehow was able to stay focused on keeping that 8 minute pace I’ve grown accustomed to. My favorite t-shirt of the day had the words “You’ve just been geezered” and was worn by this elderly gentleman sporting a white and gray speckled beard. I have to say it was disheartening to see him as he sped by. I trudged onward.
The last three miles were utter agony as every joint and muscle in my legs disagreed with my decision to finish the race. Nearing the finish line, it dawned on me that I was actually finishing something I never wanted to nor thought I could. The pain I felt that entire day as I rested at home was excruciating, but after a full nights rest, I woke up with only minor aches in my knees. Two days after the race I had no aches or pains and was able to conduct a run with my unit. I could not comprehend how my body had recovered so quickly.
I’ve reflected on this much over the past week and have concluded that I have undersold my capabilities for so long. I’ve never been a highly athletic individual and was always told that I was slower and encouraged to try to keep up. I must have internalized these comments over the years. I’ve always entered into physical tests with a bit of fear that I wouldn’t be able to perform, but now I’ve proven that I could keep up by finishing this half-marathon. I have to add that I didn’t just finish, I was able to maintain an 8:16/mile pace finishing in 1:48.
What else have I told myself that I can’t do and therefore have never tried? This half-marathon shown me how I need to stop listening to the naysayers and just be persistent in attacking my goals and dreams. Yes, they may be hard and others may be clipping along at a faster pace, but in the end I will finish. The pain experienced along the way will quickly turn to the amazing feeling of pride and a sense of accomplishment. My life must always be lived in pursuit of something. This race was so much more for me than the mere 13.1 miles I ran.