My First Half Marathon Experience

                 

It was over 130 days ago I signed up for my first half marathon. I had always dreamed of running more than a 5K race but never thought I could get my legs going more than 4 miles. It was that thought that actually inspired me to sign up for it. It was months away at the time and I decided if I made the commitment, I couldn't back out.

The Baystate Half and Full Marathon takes place in Lowell, MA every year. My father is a long-time runner of the Baystate and so are many of his friends. Many years we went down along the race course and waited for my dad to run by us. His last Baystate was run in 2012.

My dream was to run my first half marathon with my Dad, the man who made me the runner I am today. My first race I ever ran was when I was 12 years old. My dad trained with me and pushed me. I still ended up walking most of it and came in dead last behind a power walker. It wasn't until I got to college I really started to push myself into running. My Dad has always been my coach and inspiration. 

One thing holding back my dad has been his injuries. He has a bad back and common running injuries like to the calf and leg. It wasn't until this year though we found out he needed to have surgery on his hip in October with a 6 week recovery. He wouldn't be able to run with me like we planned.

I trained all summer running outside and at the UMass Lowell Rec Center. I made it up to 13.1 miles but race day came and I still felt like it could go great or terrible.

Sunday, October 19th 2014

My parents and boyfriend dropped me off at the race start at 7:40 am. It was a frigid 40 degrees and I was dressed in running spandex to my knees and a tank top. I knew quite a few people running the race, but couldn't see anyone I knew in the crowd of a few thousand people.

We lined up in front of Lowell High School and after the anthem, we took off.

Running the first mile was slow and exciting. Seeing thousands of people fill the streets bobbing up and down in bright colors was truly a sight. The marathoners and half marathoners were all together running for the first 3 miles so half of the street was closed for runners. I saw familiar faces along the way including the Lowell High and UMass Lowell Track teams and parents of people I knew. 

My parents and Jesse camped out at Walgreen's about 3 miles from the start right before the Rourke Bridge. Nothing was more motivating than seeing them waving and cheering for me especially when my legs got heavy.

The first loop of the race was relatively relaxing until the halfway point when I realized I had to do it all again. The hills became harder and my legs became heavier. I could feel my weight in my achilles tendons as I used my arms to push on. My parents and Jesse were waiting for me still but this time it was Mile 9 when I passed a second time. My aunt Joni joined them and it once again became easier to see the finish.

Mile 10 and 11 were probably the hardest times to get through. I was so close yet so far away. They were never ending and my legs were screaming for me to stop. I didn't though. When I hit Mile 12 and saw the "1 Mile to Go" sign, I felt a surge of energy come through me. I knew the end was near and so was my family waiting for me. I powered though and finished my first half marathon in 2:21. 

I ran this race to push myself to work hard to achieve something I thought I could never do. I know I can do anything I set my mind to now.

The big question I've been asked now is, "Are you going to do a full?"

I don't really know. I would love to run a full marathon someday. It's always been my dream to run Boston and actually have a time to qualify for it. For now, I am content with my 13.1. I know I will run again next year because looking back, it was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.

Thank you to my family and friends for all the love and support!!!!

The Blerch in my Life

The other day, I came home to a surprise package from my mom. She told me to open it, and behold, I found this:

I had no idea what it was to be honest, but my mom was so excited that she had received this book the first day it came out and wanted me to have it.

While reading the opening pages I began to see the humor in the book. It was funny and really enjoyable.

The most striking thing about this book was the talk about "The Blerch." The Blerch is described as "a fat little cherub who follows me when I run. He is a wretched, lazy beast. He tells me to slow down, to walk, to quit. 'Blerch' is the sound food makes when it is squeezed from a tube. Blerch is the shape of my tummy after a huge meal. If I am sedentary at a time when I have ZERO excuse for being sedentary, I call this 'blerching.' The Blerch represents all forms of gluttony, apathy, and indifference that plague my life."

This instantly made me feel a connection with this stranger writing this book. It was like he knew me, knew my struggles, and finally identified the voice that tells me to stop running. I kept reading until I read this: "A wall is an obstinate, immovable object. You cannot silence it, you cannot outrun it, and you cannot beat it. The Blerch, however, can be outrun. He CAN be silenced."

The Blerch isn't just a fat creature who follows me while you try to exercise and tell you that you need a bag of chips instead of a 3 mile run. The Blerch is bigger, and follows me around all day everyday telling me to quit. There is a Blerch for just about everything we do.

When waking up for school at 8:30am, I hear the Blerch telling me, "Go back to bed! You want to sleep more. You can skip one day, what is the big deal?"

When shopping at the mall and seeing the newest Nike Free Runs, I hear the Blerch saying, "You deserve those, $90 on shoes is nothing. They would look so good and don't you want to run fast?"

And when it's the weekend and I am having a drink, the Blerch encourages me, "Just have a couple more, what's the big deal? You want to have fun don't you?"

The Blerch in reality is the devil sitting on my left shoulder while the angel on my right fights him off. Not to say that every bad decision I make is to blame on the Blerch, because I ultimately make the decision to do or not do something.

The problem with the Blerch, is that I am fighting with myself because the Blerch is me. I am the only one who can ignore or listen to the Blerch. He tells me to stop running, and I have to find the other voice WAY DEEP down in me to tell him "No thanks Blerch, I am going to keep running."

The Blerch is present in almost every situation I am in. When it comes to running, it is easier to give in to the Blerch especially when you feel tired and sore. It can be demeaning sometimes when you listen to the Blerch instead of continuing on. However, silencing the Blerch is just about the most rewarding feeling ever.

One of my favorite quotes of all time is by the running legend Pre who said,"Success isn't how far you got, but the distance you traveled from where you started."

The Blerch will keep you where you are, or even push you back closer to where you started. Setting your mind, staying motivated, and always looking back at how far you have come will silence the Blerch and remind you how strong you really are.

Running for my Life: The First Post

Most of my friends have created blogs, and I enjoy reading them. I never thought I would start blogging for many reasons: time, creativity, interest, etc. Not many people can perfect the act of blogging and if you can't blog correctly, you can't blog at all.

One of my family's closest friends Patrick Cook created his own blog called "A Wicked Good Blog." And you guessed it, it's wicked good! I've read Pat's blogs as often as I can and watched a true master of blogging perfect the art. I've also been lucky enough to be featured in a few of the blogs. His son Andrew recently took up blogging as well, and the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. They are both extremely talented writers.

Blogs define who you are, so you can expect to see a lot of talk about the things I love most in this world which include:
Running
The Boston Bruins
Extreme Couponing
My Family
Adventures
etc.

They also will include other non the less exciting topics such as:
The struggles of College
Entering the "Real World"
Job experiences
Being in my early twenties
Figuring out the rest of my life
Overcoming everyday challenges
Forgiving and being Happy
etc.

So I guess the real question is, why did I start blogging? I thought about it and I came up with some interesting reasons:
1. I want to show the world who I am and what I do.
2. Because everyone else is doing it
3. It's a way to prove that I actually am doing something with my life
and 4. I have too much free time

Well none of these were true, and these reasons seem more applicable to justify drinking in college rather than why to start a blog.

The real reason I started a blog was because I would like to look back on my years of blogging in the future, and to be able to connect to the person I once was. The way I feel now about situations and ideas will be different down the road. I want to relive who I once was not through just pictures, distant memories, and faded dreams, but through writing and descriptive memories.

After all, a picture is worth a thousand words, so why not skip the picture and write out the words instead?