The Lighthouse Half Marathon

It was 50 degrees and rainy, but I had signed up for the inaugural race of the Lighthouse Half Marathon, and I was going to run it! I knew it was going to be a challenging course weeks before I signed up, having continuous hills for 10 of the 13 miles.  Add in the 3 hour time limit, if you don't finish in 3 hours, you don't get a medal or an official time... and the pressure was on.  Two weeks before, I had run another half marathon, that was also hilly, and I finished that in 2:48.  So I was nervous.  But I knew I wanted to be part of the race, and I decided to rise to the challenge.

Everything seemed perfect, the temperature was in the mid 50s, and the continual rain for the past 24 hours, had stopped! I met a really nice girl on the bus, who had was running her first race ever... and a half marathon at that!  The day was looking great!  I knew I would encounter a few bumps along the way, specifically the hills, and mud from all the rain, as a good portion of the race was on trails or dirt roads.  But I wasn't moved by it.  I had made up my mind, I was gonna win the battle in my head, and have a great race!

Moments before the gun went off, the rain started.  And it never stopped.  Not for 3 hours.  It changed from terrential down pour, to down pour, and an occasional rain, but never let up.  Once again I decided that my will, my outlook would determine my success.  So I ran, in the rain. And I enjoyed it, most of the time anyway.  I remember the moment when I hit the half mile up hill at mile 9.5, and I was struggling.  I wanted to run it all, without walking, but it just wasn't gonna happen.  It was hard, so I pushed myself a lot, like I had committed, and took as few walk breaks as possible.

 It was in that moment I realized that this race was so much like life.  Even though we get self deluded and think life is supposed to be easy, and everything should magically fall in place, it doesn't work that way.  That's how life is.  Its a challenge.  And so was this race.  The hills were a challenge.  The rain was a challenge, even the down hills were a challenge! Yes even in the decline there were obstacles to over come.  The mud was a challenge.  Despite all the challenges I stayed steady, true and strong and pushed through for the prize!  I made a mental decision, long before I was in the middle of the challenging situation, that I would face it and conquer it!  And in the moment when I wanted to cave I remembered that.  I would state my goal to myself, and then do it!  In the middle of this half mile hill I reminded myself that I have a medal waiting for me at the end, and it is worth the struggle to receive the prize!

The past 5 years of my life felt much like a half marathon, it was hard.  I faced challenges, they were hard, they hurt, and I wanted to give up more than once.  But I made the decision in my head, long before I ever was in the situation, that I am a winner, a conqueror, and that life will not move me! I kept my eyes on the prize, the promises of God for my life.  And in the middle of the hard times I repeated them to myself over and over.  "God you have great plans for me!" (My version of Jeremiah 29:11).  I took walk breaks when needed, but never let the situation crush or stop me.  I pressed on, until the finish line was in sight.  And now I feel like I've just crossed that line, wearing my medal, happy and proud of myself for making it through.  I'm experiencing the thrill of victory, and it wipes away all the pain of the struggle.

Where ever you are in your race of life, whatever challenge you face, don't give up! Make the decision in your head to conquer and win.  Keep your eye on the prize, and speak God's promise to yourself when you need to keep yourself going!  You will get through this.  You will get the medal! You will survive!

Diva Half Marathon

Sometimes in life when you experience a tragedy, or someone you love and trust fails you, you find it hard to find the good in situations, or the good in people. This past weekend however, I was reassured that there are good people out there.  Lots of them.  They may be virtual friends or complete strangers, and even though they don't know you, they care! They will go out of their way to be there for you.  There are good people out there! This weekend they were wearing hot pink, feather boas, and tiaras.  They were the Divas who took on Myrtle Beach!

The first taste of goodness: the RMM
I discovered the Diva Half Marathon from a private Facebook group, the running moms (RMM).  Inspired by the determination of my friend Kelly, I decided to sign up.  I've been part of the RMM for only 10 short months, but this virtual support group full of wisdom for running, and the race of life, have quickly won my heart.  This was going to be a meet-up, moms from around the country coming together to run! I signed up, got air plane tickets and joined some of the mamas in a room.   It was exciting to be going down to South Carolina to finally these women with whom I have shared some of life's most personal issues, and found some of my greatest support.

I flew down with a few local mamas, and the second I stepped off the plane, one of the ladies had overwhelmed me with goodness.  She had rented a car and had already found out where my hotel was in order to drive me there. On top of it she had contacted my roommates (whom I had never met) to make sure that I had a ride to the pasta dinner meet up the next day.  I hadn't taken time to plan any of it out, and mama Candice had taken the time to make sure I was covered.   Candice is proof that There are still good people out there.

The second taste of goodness: Diva runners from Florida

I'm a fairly social gal.  Even as a runner, I'm usually commenting or chatting it up on the race course.  Diva was no different.  Around mile 10 I was feeling the heat, the sun shining on me was tough.  I'm a northern girl and our sun has barely started to shine. Needless to say, most of my training was in the cold, or very least overcast.  So the hot South Carolina sunshine was tiring me out, and fast. I had started taking walk breaks, which I never do.  It was frustrating to me, but thinking about my fatherless son back home, I knew I needed to play it safe.  Pushing myself was fine, but I had to be smart about it.  

I don't remember what comment I said around mile 10, but it sparked the divas from Florida to invite me to join them.  They were doing intervals: running 1 minute, walking 1 minute.  When asked to join, I decided it was probably a good idea.  Those ladies kindness brought me through the last 3miles. They encouraged me, they pushed me, and most importantly they let me walk just enough to keep me going. As we neared the end, about a quarter mile out, where the crowds were, they said, "let's run in!" and I did.  They pushed me and I needed it.  These divas didn't know me, had no vested interest in my life, but they took time to pull me in alongside, challenge and push me. It was just what I needed. The divas from Florida are proof there are good people out there.  

The final taste of goodness: no mama left behind

After finishing the race I started to look for my RMM friends, after reuniting with almost all of them, we noticed my roommate had not yet finished.  We started back along the course to find her.  Not too far out we saw her... surrounded! Several other RMM mamas had already gone back, and here they were running with our caboose!  I jumped onto the course with a few others and cheering our friend along, we ran down the shoot all the way towards to finish line.  Shouts of encouragement were continual and the support was practically tangible.  I stepped off the course to watch my roomie cross the finish line and I wanted to cry.  A group of perfect strangers, united on facebook as mothers who love to run, had just dropped everything to help a fellow mama.  

I can't put into words the experience, and the emotions of watching Kate surrounded by women who hardly knew her, giving their all for her.  They were not willing to cheer her on, or watch her finish, but rather to get on the course with her, running along side her, taking part in her victory to make sure she finished!  Perhaps that's how I can describe the running moms, we aren't spectators, or cheerleaders.  We are in the trenches with each other, whether at a race, or virtually via Facebook.  We help each other in our everyday struggles, we grab arms and run along side.  We make sure that no mama is left behind.  Every mama crosses the finish line and receives her medal!  The mamas who ran with Kate are proof that good people are out there!

I'm grateful for running.  I'm grateful for the divas from florida and the RMM.  After all I have been through: betrayal, deceit, trials and pain, I have found good trustworthy people are NOT the exception, they are the rule. And they are out there!  You just have to open your heart and give them a place to come in.

The Hurt

Its inevitable.  If you run long enough, at some point a part of your body is going to start hurting.  I just ran my third half marathon, that’s 13.1 miles, and around mile 10 my knee started hurting.  It wasn’t an injury.  Thats quite a different feeling.  It was just my body responding the intense pressure I was putting it under by running this distance. 


As I thought about my knee, I remembered my winter runs at the local metropark, and how mysteriously around mile 2 my shins would start to hurt, and eventually, by mile 4 the issue resolved itself.  I thought back to last November when I ran my first half marathon, and my thighs started hurting at mile 10, by mile 11 the thighs were less intense and my calves began to act up.  This hurt was normal.


That’s how it goes with running. You put a demand on your body to perform, a faster pace, an insane distance, and it takes some time to work out the kinks.  Your body may hurt, but if you don’t give up, if you keep running, if you don’t let the hurt move you, it will work itself out.  The hurt surrenders to your drive and perseverance, and further down the path you realize the hurt is gone.  This doesn’t mean a new hurt may not take its place.  There are no guarantees that a half a mile down the path a different part of your body could begin to fight against the plan.  But as you continue to push, as you stay steady to your course, it works itself out. 

As the path led me out of the woods, onto the sidewalk, near mile 11, this reality hit me.  Run through the hurt.  I’ve had some intense demands on my life, I’ve been down some long and winding paths.  And along the way I got hurt.  Life just hurts sometimes.  There are no guarantees that it will be easy and pain free.  But when that hurt comes, we need to respond just like running a half marathon.  Keep running.  Don’t give up.  Don’t surrender to the pain.  Its not an injury.  It will not stop you or cripple you- unless you let it.  


Keep on your path.  Keep running.  Run through the hurt.  And in time, it will work itself out.  In time it will stop hurting.  And when it does you will suddenly be aware that you are closer to your goal than you realized.  You have a choice! When the hurt of life comes, you can stop and surrender, or you can run through the hurt, continue on your path, cross the finish line and receive your medal!

Forget

I was running not long ago, along a very hilly path.  Its amazing the analogies and life lessons that God shows to me while I am running.  I ran 8 miles this particular run, and it was a very hilly path I selected.  Hills are hard when you run, even if you slow down your pace, the amount of energy you use to climb the hill greatly increases.  Once you hit the peak, and start the slow decline, you body starts to move faster and works less.  Coasting down helps alleviate the strain you felt climbing the hill.  And that is when this miracle happens.  God has given us this amazing ability to forget.  When I run I forget the intensity of the hills, as I coast down the other side. I begin to recover.  And as I recover I rebuild strength to take on the next hill.  God helps us to forget.  We forget the intensity, the risk and the pain.

We had a heat wave hit Michigan in mid-March, and since I am training for a half marathon I took advantage of the gorgeous weather for a long run.  My task: 9 miles.  The weather: 80 and sunny.  I was completely ignorant as I left my house for my 9 mile run in the sun.  After 2 miles I was getting tired and took a walk break.  The walk breaks increased and by 4.5 miles I knew I couldn't complete this run.  I was in trouble.  It was HOT! I was sweaty, exhausted and almost out of water.  I was walking more than I was running.  My body just wasn't ready for this hot weather, and it wasn't able to exert the normal energy level it had under colder circumstances.  By 6.5 miles I felt I had nothing left to give and better stop.  I was concerned I may pass out if I continued to push myself. I refer to this run as the "death run".  It really was that bad.

But God helps us forget.  A few days later, with colder weather, and less sun, I set out again for a 9 mile run.  I had forgotten the pain. I had forgotten the impossibility I felt that day.  I forgot, and here I was willing to try it again.

I can't explain my experience of relationships, marriage and widowhood any better than this example.  My relationship with my husband was far from healthy.  Our marriage was less than perfect, and in the end horribly difficult and impossible.  I was hurt, taken advantage of, betrayed, and left crushed, broken and hopeless.  When he died I was left unresolved and confused.   It has been painful, and frustrating.   But as time passes, the impact of the pain I experienced lessens.  My memory of it fades.  Its almost as if it was a movie I watched, and not a life that I lived.  The emotions of it become more and more distant, and all that remains is the facts, the story which I tell.

I thank God that he helps us forget.  Who wants to carry the pain day after day, month after month, in the same intensity as which you first experienced it? What would life look like if we remembered every detail? I wouldn't take the risk to live life again.  I would live in fear.  I would never trust another man with my heart and my life, for fear he may destroy it.  But God helps us forget.  As we continue running down the path of life.  We face each new hill with a fresh perspective, a renewed energy.  We find joy in coasting down the other side. We don't let the "death runs" of life stop us from lacing up our shoes and setting out on new adventures.  We learn to enjoy life and live again!  All because God helps us forget.

Disney Princess Half Marathon

Sunday morning I woke up at 2 am to get ready for my ball. I had a date with 16,000 others who were going to run the Disney Princess Half Marathon. I got into my Belle costume: sequined skirt, gloves, rose and all.  I chose Belle because she was my sister's favorite princess and since she died about a year ago I wanted to run this in her memory!  Once I was ready, I made my way to the bus, and hopped on board, by now it was 3 am. 

It was a bit of a wait until the race started at 6 am, but I filled the time with meeting up with some online running moms from around the country, and even making friends with some random strangers.  Then at 6 am when the fairy godmother shouted 3.... 2.... 1.... And fireworks went off, I started my race.  13.1 miles through the Disney World roads, including Magic Kingdom and Epcot.

My favorite part of the race was running up main street in the magic kingdom, and seeing cinderellas castle.  The streets were lined with crowds, and even though I didn't know a single person, it didn't matter.  Their cheers got me excited, their signs made me laugh, and when I made it around the castle and began to run underneath I wanted to cry.  What girl doesn't want to be a princess and live in a castle, right? Well sometimes life isn't a fairy tale.  Sometimes you face hard situations. Sometimes you lose loved ones.  Sometimes you feel like the evil one is winning, but at that moment, as I ran under the castle I  was winning! I didn't need a prince or a carriage, or even a castle. I was a strong independent woman, discovering something I love, living and enjoying life.  I was a princess!

My goal was to finish the race in under 2 hours and 30 minutes.  Based on my training this was a reasonable goal.  Having only run one other half marathon this past fall, at 2 hours 48 minutes, I was confident I would break that and set a personal record.  3 miles into it I realized I was about 3 minutes off and the 2:30 time was unlikely.  At that moment I made the choice to do my best and if I didn't break it, it was okay.  That was a huge deal for me to be okay with, as I usually set very high expectations of myself and get very disappointed in myself for not meeting them.  Perhaps the struggles of losing a spouse and dealing with his addictions have helped me to relax and enjoy life more than I did before. 

I am very proud to say that I had an amazing run! I finished in 2:33:38!  I set a personal record and took almost 15 minutes off my previous time! While it may not have been my initial goal, I am pleased and I have no regrets.  I am sure that as I crossed the finish line, my arms raised in victory, that my sister karrie, my late husband Jonathan, and my father were all watching from heaven.  Cheering for me when I was tired, and celebrating with me as i finished.  I know they would never have thought I would do this! And if they were still here, who knows if I ever would have.  

Words can not express how grateful I am to have found running.  It has become not only my stress reliever but my grief reliever.  It's my healing process.  Each race I accomplish, each celebration I have is a way to celebrate my new life, my new adventure.  Just like this race, I've had expectations for my life, and a few years back I realized those things may not happen right away.  But I've decided that i am just going to run it my best, enjoy each mile and celebrate... whatever the result may be!

My Princess

This weekend I am heading to Disney World along with 20,000 other runners, to run the Disney Princess Half Marathon.  While I am excited to break a personal record, and celebrate my 35th birthday in the "happiest place on earth", the race such such a deeper meaning to me than any of this.

Almost one year ago, I lost my sister and best friend.  She unexpectedly encountered some complications from her seizure disorder, and on March 7, after being removed from the respirator, she went home to be with Jesus.  She was the most special person in my life, EVER!

Karrie was mentally impaired, and had the mental age of a 3 year old.  She is technically my step sister, which I almost NEVER reference, because she had been my sister for 25 years.  I was 9 when I met her, she was 14.  She was fun, silly, strong and obstinate.  We shared a room for almost 6 years, often falling asleep holding hands, if we hadn't already pushed the beds together.  She stood up in my wedding, and was the best aunt my son could have ever asked for.

So as I head down to Disney, to run a Princess race, I will be running for my princess, Karrie.  I'm dressing up as Belle, her absolute favorite princess.  I don't think she knew Disney had other movies besides Beauty and the Beast, and anything that had Belle on it, she loved.  So I will be donning a yellow skirt, yellow tank, long yellow gloves, and carrying a rose.  Every mile I run, I will remember the honor it was to grow up with and later care for my sister.  I will remember every moment we shared, and try not to cry for the moments we were robbed.  I hope that on Sunday morning, as I board my bus at 3 am, wait in a corral in Epcot til 5:45, and cross the finish line about 2 1/2 hours later, that she will be looking down from heaven and see.  She will be the strength I need to keep going, and the tears on my face when I finish.  I love you Karrie, and I miss you.  I'm doing this for you sister.  You're my best friend!

Single Again!

Single-Again.  Its a term I've come up with to describe those of us who having been married, now find ourselves single.  Its a very weird, very uncomfortable place.  Because you have been married, you are in a very different place than those who have remained single.  Which is why I created a special term to describe it.  

Singles know who they are.  They have always been the same person.  Single-again people however change.  When we were single, we were completely ourselves, our likes, hobbies, beliefs, and routines.  Then we got married.  And in marriage, you can't remain yourself and survive.  There is a blending, a melding together that happens.  God describes it as "the two become one flesh."  Thats exactly what happens.  We start with MY way, and YOUR way, and in the end we have OUR way.  We develop a way of life together, with a blended routine, blended likes, and blended hobbies.  We take on a new identity, and it fits in that married life.

On the day my husband died, that married life ended.  And so did that blended woman.  I am no longer blended with my husband, so the things which defined me in that relationship no longer fit.  The hobbies we had together, I no longer enjoy as I once did. The routines we had as a family changed.  And I am not that single woman I was 9 years ago either.  Both of those definitions of Jennifer have ceased to be.  So who am I now if I am not the women I once was?

Enter redefinition.  Yes there is a season of redefining yourself which happens when you are single-again.  You have to relearn yourself.  And you find that who you are is not who you were, and probably not who you thought you'd be.  I've found it hard to answer some of the simplest of questions: what are your hobbies? What pastimes do you enjoy?  As I mutter through a bunch of ummms, I realize I have no concrete answer.  "I don't know"is the best answer I can provide.  

Redefining yourself is a glorious experiment.  Its the opportunity to step out in ways you never before have.  Its the chance to try things you never may have.  The box in which you resided is torn apart, and while that feels scary and vulnerable, you are free! You are free to run out of the box in whatever direction you choose.  I have grown as a person in this season of redefinition.  I am not the woman I once was.  Just like the latest box of Tide detergent, I'm new and improved.  In all honesty very little has changed, just a slight adjustment, but the results are more powerful!

The new and improved Jennifer is a runner!  She enjoys traveling on her own to different destinations to run 13.1 miles, just to get a little race bling!  She's independent, confident, healthier and skinnier.  The new and improved Jennifer is a passionate worshipper.  She has broken out of her box of intimidation and public approval and freely worships God as if no one is watching.  She's madly in love with Her Jesus, and is experiencing Him tangibly, and hearing His voice as never before.  The new and improved Jennifer is a blogger.  She writes each night of the struggles, emotions, events, victories and struggles she has faced.  She shares her heart with a world full of strangers.  She's comforted, encouraged, and strengthened by the simple act of journaling.

It's time to let go of the past, and recognize that while being single-again feels like a wet sock, it is a beautiful season.  A season of unlimited potential; full of adventure.  Embrace your singleness.  Let God redefine you into the new and improved version.  You may just find, like that box of Tide, that you like the results!

When the day comes

Everyone one of us will encounter one of those days. Its the kind of day that shapes your life, you remember the most odd details from that day.  I remember where I was when the space shuttle challenger blew up.  I remember what I was doing, what I was wearing, and who first told me about the attack on the Twin Towers.  From my own personal life I also have a vivid recall of the blue shiny jammies I wore at age 5 when my dad moved out.  I clearly remember the date 1/26/09, the day my whole life as it was started crumbling.  And on 11/24/2010 when I got "the call" at 5:15 in the morning that my husband had an accident and was in the ER.  Its days like that which impact your life in such tremendous ways.  You almost never see them coming, and it seems as though there is no time to prepare.

One of the great lessons God showed me this weekend was the importance of training.  Come along on a journey with me, and you'll see how it all fits together to those days described above.  I had a "big day" this past weekend, it was the day I ran my first half marathon.  Thats 13.1 miles for you non-runners.  I'd say that's a major life shaping event which I will never forget.  But it didn't start on Saturday.  It started 2 months prior, when I went out and took my first run in preparation.  I was preparing for the big day- even though I didn't even know when or where I was racing.  I went out for 3 strengthening runs each week, starting at 3 miles and increasing up to 5 miles.  I even worked harder by taking my son along with me in the jogging stroller.  During these runs I built capacity, strength, and determination.  Every Saturday I went out for a long run, starting at 4 miles and ending at 9.  I built endurance, I saw my speed increase without effort, I learned to encourage myself when I got tired, I broke every personal record, and I built my ability with a few hills.

This training period lasted for 7 weeks.  It slowly built up my body and muscles to handle a 13.1 mile run.  It got my heart in shape, where I could run over 2 hours, and not lose my breath.  It helped me build confidence and more importantly endurance.  I learned how to work with my body to go the distance.  I was able to try out different methods: pacing, what to eat, what to drink, etc.  When race day came, I was ready.  I was confident.  I knew I was prepared, and that I was going to cross that finish line.  I knew my running well enough that I was able to set and meet a reasonable goal of under 3 hours.

As I ran, I knew the impact my training had on me.  When I passed the 9 mile marker, and I wasn't out of breath or even remotely tired, I knew it was the training kicking it.  When other people started slowing down, and taking more walk breaks, I kept going steady as can be.  I actually had a slightly faster pace the last half of the race, than the first.  I knew when to drink and when not too.  I was completely sure I was going to make it.  And to be honest, while it wasn't "easy", its wasn't a struggle either.  Don't get me wrong, running 13.1 was hard, but because I trained for 2 months and my body was ready I never had a moment of "I can't do it", "I have to walk", or "I just wanna die!".  That didn't happen to me.  After 9 miles I started counting down miles and encouraging myself. I knew I could do it, and mentally it was a very easy sell, because of the training.

Life is exactly the same way.  Remember those days we mentioned before? We are all gonna have them.  Maybe its the day a loved one dies, or you or your spouse lose a job.  Maybe its the day that someone you love receives a horrible diagnosis, or you have a break in a close relationship.  Life is hard, and it happens to everyone.  It seems like it happens out of no where, and you feel unprepared.  But that is not the truth.

We all have a "training" season in life.  Its the good times.  Its when everything is going well.  And how we "train" determines how the event effects us.  I trained for the half marathon and when the day came I conquered.  I was a victor.  I came through it without injury or harm. I came out stronger!  Imagine if I hadn't trained, how different that day would have been.  I wouldn't have finished.  I could've been injured or even died.  I would have left feeling like a failure and a defeat.  I would have said that a half marathon is just too big of an obstacle for me.

So the day my world fell apart, when my husband confessed his secret life to me, or the day he died, I was prepared.  I had been training.  I have a personal relationship with Jesus.  Everyday I spend time with Him.  I read the Bible, I pray, and I worship Him.  Training. When I encounter challenges, even the small ones, I seek Him.  When I read the Bible, it shows me how to live, and I choose to follow those ways.  Training. I sing praise and worship songs to Him, and I thank Him for what He has done in my life.  I attend a church that teaches me how to live, and gives me a personal encounter with His presence.  Its all training.

People would tell me through the funeral process, and even now, "You are so strong".  And I respond, "I'm not.  I'm a girl who knows how to connect with God."  And its true.  Because of my "training" time, I am able to walk through this season knowing I can do it, knowing I won't fail, breathing comfortably because I've set my pace right.  I know I'll cross the finish line, and I'm counting down the miles.  I'm not in a state of despair, or  injured beyond repair.  I'm putting one foot in front of the other saying, "Go on Jenn, 3 more miles.  You can do this!"  I'm not saying its been easy and it hasn't hurt.  It has hurt, more than I hope any of you will ever experience.  But when the day came,  I was prepared.

These days, difficult life events, will come.  But its the training you do now which will determine how you come through this: victor or victim.  I've decided I'm crossing the finish line and I'm gonna receive my medal. I'm gonna let this experience make me stronger,  How about you?

The Indianapolis Monumental Half Marathon

This weekend was the most amazing weekend of my life! It all started about 2 months ago with an invitation to run a half marathon in San Antonio with Dave Ramsey and his team.  When I got the email something in me stirred.  Even though I just began running I had this pull... and when I saw the date was 12 days before the one year anniversary of my husband's death, the pull became stronger.  I thought, I've just walked through one of life's hardest experiences and how awesome would it be to do something so amazing within the first year?  Yes I need to do this! I need to run a half marathon before the one year mark.  While many people do things like this in some one's memory, for me it was quite different.  I had to do this for me.  I had to show myself that I can make it through difficult situations. (For more on why I ran the half marathon see the post "I have to do this" from October.)

So I started training, 8 weeks ahead of time.  At the 4 week mark I realized it would be a poor financial decision to fly to Texas to run the half marathon.  I resolved that I couldn't go.  The disappointment was overwhelming, but I pressed through, deciding to keep training anyway.  I specifically remember where I was on the trail on my 6 mile run when I decided I have to do this.  And I started praying for God to make a way.  The following week I found a closer race that fit my "deadline", the Indianapolis Monumental Half Marathon.  It was a lengthy drive, but close enough to make it fit the budget.  So I cut another week off the training plan, and committed.

About 2 weeks before the race I started asking some girl friends to come along.  Each one I asked wasn't able to.  It was then I had this gut feeling the that I was supposed to do it alone.  I continued to ask friend after friend, and each time they couldn't go, I knew in my heart that's how it was supposed to be. For some reason God was telling me, through the "No's" and in my heart, "go it alone girl!"  So that's exactly what I did.  Now let me preface this by saying I was married for almost 9 years.  My husband was an organizer, a planner, and took really good care of me.  I always felt safe when he was there.  When we went somewhere, he drove.  He made hotel reservations, printed maps, etc.  So for almost a decade I'd followed his lead.  So driving 6 hours to a new city, staying overnight in a hotel, running a half marathon and driving home the same day, was a pretty new experience for me!

Friday I arrived in Indianapolis and I walked from the hotel, several blocks, to the expo for check in.  I had no idea where I was, and little idea where I was going.  I was all alone, a young woman, on the streets of this strange downtown city.  Not at all a scene I've lived out before.  On my way back, as I looked up at the high rise buildings, my head held high, heels clicking on the side walk, I smiled with such a confidence and satisfaction.  At that moment I thought, look at me... I'm alone, I'm comfortable, I'm content, and I'm "making it happen" (as Jonathan would have said).  A new level of independent confidence hit me.  I was having a great time, and I was all alone.  For a social person this sounds like an oxymoron.  But it was true.  The whole day I had accomplished some pretty significant tasks, and the race hadn't even started yet.

Fast forward to the next morning- 36 degrees, or so, at the start line, I'm standing there ready to go.  An excitement fills my heart that I can't explain.  I've worked hard, I've committed, I've trained.  And now I'm ready.  Let's get this party started!

My first goal was to finish under 3 hours, that's 13.1 miles running at a pace of 13:44.  I knew I could comfortably run faster than that pace, but hadn't run past 9 miles... ever! So I decided to run at 13:30 for my pace, because I knew I could do it very comfortably.  Then if I had extra energy I would speed up at the end.  My second goal was to finish... and finish without walking.  One thing I learned during my training was if I paced myself right, and could breathe comfortably I really can go the distance.  I think endurance is my strength.  I'm not the fastest runner out there, but the tortoise wins the race, right?

It took 6 minutes after the gun went off for me to reach the start line.  Apparently 10,000+ people were running the race, so it took some time.  I set my pace, breathing comfortable, and started off.  It was a little cold, but made for perfect running weather.  In the first 1/3 of the race, I continued at a steady pace, as person after person made their way past me. I wasn't worried because I knew I had to maintain for 13.1 miles.

I stayed steady, talked to a few random people along the way, and had a smile on my face when I thought about what I was doing.  I made sure to take it all in.  Turning my music down for all the water stations, or entertainment, reading every sign, and thanking officers stopping traffic.  I read many great t-shirt backs along the way, and enjoyed the cheering crowds, along the way.  I had enough energy to talk, smile, and shout along the way.  I gave high fives to teens at the water stations, while Eye of the Tiger, or Rocky's theme song played in the back ground.

Towards the end of the race, I was still comfortable and steady with my pace.  At this point I began passing people, those who had slowed down or were walking.  When the last mile hit my legs were tired.  I could feel a dull pain starting in my thighs.  One more mile... I can make it.  No walking, just keep going. Then I got a text from my BFF, perfect timing.  Between that and the cheering crowds I was able to push through, and I crossed the finish line at 2:48:55.

The moment my foot crossed, and I started to walk, a flood of emotion hit me.  I can't put into words what I felt, it definitely wasn't sadness.  It was as if all I had been through the past few years, had just been washed over by what I had done in the last 3 hours.  Like the tide coming in, pushing over the sand castles of yesterday, and leaving a fresh beach ready for a new day.  And I started to cry.  Not a single tear, no this was a face contorted, serious cry.  I wasn't expecting this response.  It was the joy of knowing I had done it! I had taken what was horrible and let it fuel me to do something amazing.  I DID IT!!!  The only problem with this emotional outburst was I couldn't breathe.  I had been breathing just fine the whole race, but the moment I started to cry, my breath was taken away.  I managed to stop crying, and regained my breath.  Once again taking it all in.

There I stood in the middle of thousands of people, medal around my neck, a half-marathoner! It was the most amazing moment of my life.  I felt so accomplished, so proud of myself for completing this race!  I had never felt that way about myself or any accomplishment, ever!  And even though I was there alone, I didn't at all feel like I missed out.  I believe I was supposed to be alone.  God needed to show me something about myself that I have been struggling with for almost a year now: All I need is God!

I've said it a million times, I got a tattoo to symbolize it, and I wear rings to remind me.  But it wasn't until I traveled to Indianapolis and ran the Indianapolis Monumental Half Marathon that I truly understood and believed it.  Jesus is all I need!  I don't need a man to believe in me for me to accomplish great things.  I don't need his support, or encouragement to push through when it gets hard.  Every part of this half marathon journey has been on my own: just me and God.  From the training, to the trip, to the race; He's been the only one there with me.  And I did it!  He really is all I need.  With God I can do anything!  I can do great things by myself.  And even more than that I can enjoy them.

This weekend I had the most amazing time of my life, and no one was there to celebrate it with me.  And that's okay.  Its actually more than okay- it was perfect.  I did this race for me.  And I know that it changed my life.  It gave me a level of contentment I don't think I have ever had. It proved to me that I am a survivor- more than a conqueror!  I'm really am alright, just me and God!

Today is Monumental

[This was supposed to post on Saturday, but since I was running, I didn't notice it didn't auto post.  Sorry its a day late.]  Keeping it short today because as you are reading this I am out on the streets of Indianapolis running the Indianapolis Monumental Half Marathon!!!! It's amazing to think that I have worked hard and disciplined myself to get to this point... running 13.1 miles. I never thought I could do it. I never imagined I would want to. But I am, and I'm thrilled to be doing this.

This weekend is a huge step for me. Running a half marathon is monumental! Not only am I accomplishing a very uncommon, and difficult yet extremely rewarding task, but I have traveled here alone to do it. That fact surprises me almost as much as my love for running. It shows that I have become comfortable, and confident on my own. It takes a while to adjust from the safety of having a husband there to protect you, and keep you safe. Its almost subconscious, but just knowing he's there gives you a sense of security. Then when he's gone you feel it. Its taken some time to get used. I've been building my own security. I'm adjusting to life on my own and enjoying it too!

Here I am almost a year later discovering my love for running and enjoying a weekend alone at a destination race. I'm definitely redefining myself. Yes, I'm on the path of healing.

I have to do this!

In two weeks I will run my first half marathon!  I know, I'm half crazy...  before July I had never run! Well, that is if you don't count the one season of track in the 9th grade, which I hated. But now I am a runner. I started running last July and I love it! I love beating down the path, with nothing but me, the wind, the view, my iPod and God. So when I was invited to run a half marathon in November, out of state with some famous business associates, I was really tempted.  Then I thought about it... November... the month my husband died.  Wow! What an amazing accomplishment it would be for me, after such a difficult and tragic time in my life.  I have to do this!

Why am I running a half marathon?  Because I can control it.  Its about me.  I push my body. I set my goals. I achieve them. The last few years of my life were totally dependent on someone else.  My husband's weaknesses and strengths set the tone and pace of our life.  I never knew what would happen, or when the bottom would fall out.  I could do everything to prepare, but in reality I wasn't in control.  I was left responding to situations, and cleaning up messes.  Running isn't reliant on anyone else.  And training for and completing a half marathon depends on one person: me.  I can depend on my self! I determine what I want to do, and work hard to make it happen.

Why am I running a half marathon? Because not everyone does it!  13.1 miles of running is not easy. Only .17% of the United States population ran a half marathon last year.  It is difficult. It is hard. And you have to be strong to do it!  Looking back at the last few years of my life, it was difficult, it was hard. And I when I crossed the finish line I didn't get a medal, or a t-shirt. I had hurt, pain, and disappointment. Like running a half marathon, not many have lived through all the things I have.  So running this half marathon is symbolic of what I have gone through, but its the positive counterpart.  It will be difficult.  It will be hard.  It will be my choice, and it's making me stronger!

Why am I running a half marathon?  Because its something positive for me to focus on as I approach the one year anniversary of my late husband's death.  Its amazing how our bodies and memories automatically remember.  This time of year, October and November, were very difficult last year.  They were hurtful, they were painful.  I witnessed the man I loved self-destructing.  And without a  focus, I would be reliving every day, every thought, every event. Instead of focusing on the negative, I'm running.  I'm running about 20 miles a week.  I'm meeting new benchmarks, and feeling  accomplished.  By training, I'm keeping myself emotionally and physically well.  I'm going into this challenging season focused on something positive, that makes me feel good, instead of hurt; healthy instead of heart sick; confident instead of insecure; and a victor instead of a victim.

Why am I running a half marathon?  Because as I say, "I buried a husband, I can do this!" Its a challenge.  Its a sign of my strength.  Its a sign of my survival.  Its a sign of my independence.  Its a sign that I'm okay; I can't be kept down.  I'm a young woman who can put her mind to something and accomplish it!

Why am I running a half marathon?  Because life has dumped on me.  Life has thrown at me the worst that it has to offer.  And now by running 13.1 miles I tell life "take that! You've tried to take me out, but I came back stronger! I'm not moved by what bring my way! I make my own destiny!"

Learning to Walk Again

The most difficult point in my distance runs is when I've hit my targeted distance, and I stop running.  It is uncomfortable, awkward and slightly painful.  My legs become so accustomed to running, the repetitive motion of it, that they want to continue.  They could go on and on for miles.  Yet I've reached the end of my run, and I force them to slow down, and change their movement.   My legs don't  like it at all.  You'd think after all the exertion they've put out they would be content and give in to the easier exercise.  But that is not the case.  They fight it; they resist it.  In this moment walking feels very foreign, and it takes a tremendous amount of energy to just maintain a normal step.  After a short while though, my legs have adjusted and walking becomes the new norm.  My legs are comfortable because my muscles have adjusted.  I could walk on forever.

This is life.  You are running along, pursuing life, enjoying the view, and achieving goals.   You're trudging along just fine; everything feels normal and comfortable.  All your muscles and bones are working in harmony, towards a common purpose. Then all of a sudden life stops.  When tragedy occurs you stop running.  In that moment everything changes.  Perhaps its the loss of a spouse, or even a loved one.  Maybe its a job loss, marital struggles, or another significant strain on your life.  Its that moment when you transition from running to walking.  And its awkward.  It hurts.  It doesn't feel right or natural in any way.  The everyday task of walking now is a strain. It requires effort: more energy and thought than it ever did before.

When my husband died it changed my life in more ways than I could ever imagine.  I distinctly remember in the days following his death not being able to find my car in the parking lot, twice in one day.  This was not normal for me. I have a great sense of direction.  But as I walked out of the store I was frozen.  I couldn't even remember which side of the lot I had parked on.  I was in a fog.  A normal everyday activity was suddenly strange and awkward.  Another odd thing I noticed was I would lose my train of thought, right in the middle of a story or a point.  The thought would vanish and I would have absolutely no idea what I was talking about or where I was headed.  Again another seemingly simple task became difficult to complete.

I had to force myself to walk in many areas of my life.  The things which were simple, easy and part of every day life now became a task which required effort.  It took thought and discipline to make my legs move in such a way as to walk, not run as before.  And as the time passed it became much more comfortable.  I adjusted to the new movements of my life: being home alone, running a business, putting my son to bed by myself, and being on my own.  I am now realizing that I am walking again, and it is no longer awkward.  In fact its starting to feel normal.  As if I'd always walked like this, and could continue walking on like this for miles.

I know that some day I will again run! But until that day comes, I am taking each step as it comes.  Enjoying the sights and sounds on the path along the way.  My head is held high, and I'm looking expectantly towards my future!

Sprinting a Marathon

Have you ever set out to do something and then realize that the intensity and pace at which you are moving there is no way you will ever keep going?  That's been my life, at least the last 10 months since being a widow, single mom, and every other hat I have been thrown into wearing.  I didn't choose this life, this path, or this road, but I here I am.  And its not a 5K, its a marathon! Its long, its intense, its hard.  I find myself asking, "is this ever gonna end?"  I have moments of endurance, and moments of overwhelming desire to quit and walk away.  I already have the t-shirt from when I check in, do I really need the medal from the finish line?

As I was running today I learned a valuable life lesson; one that I hope will help me to avoid future earthquakes, and gave me a much greater understanding of myself and the process my soul is in as it heals from tragedy.  I've been running now for over 3 months, and I'm making amazing progress.  Starting at just 1 mile, I am now up to 5 miles for long runs, and 4 miles (pushing the stroller) for short runs.  Today was a scheduled easy day: 2 miles.  Piece of cake! 2 miles with the stroller is nothing compared to the distance runs I've grown accustomed to.  So I made a very well intentioned, seemingly wise decision: push myself hard on this 2 mile run!  I was not going to run the 14-15 mile pace I have been on stroller and long runs.  I am stronger than before, I've done much harder things, and I am ready! So I ran at under just under a 12 minute pace- with the stroller.  [Note: for you non-runners that means I'm running 1 mile in just under 12 minutes.]

I started off with gusto! And by .5 miles, I knew I was in trouble.  The pace was hard, strenuous, and I was already winded.  It became obvious I was not going to make it to the 2 mile mark at this pace.  Immediately I adjusted my goal- push hard to the 1 mile mark.  I'm pleased to say I did this, but I was beat. I was winded.  My legs felt like lead.  I walked for almost .2 of a mile just to recover.  When it became time to run again, my energy was spent.  I wasn't looking forward to running, and it felt physically difficult to run.  Even though I lowered my pace to around 13 minutes, I didn't have the stamina to finish the second mile.  Even with another walk break, it took everything in me to finish.

Now 2 days ago I ran 4 miles, pushing the stroller. I felt great, I could speak comfortably and could have run further.  I enjoyed that run, and felt accomplished when I was done.  But today- not so.  I did not enjoy this run.  I found it very difficult and I regretted how I approached it.  When I was done I felt beat up, sore, and a little defeated.  What happened?  I became over confident.  I felt I was ready to handle something I was not.  I pushed myself beyond my limits.  I was unrealistic in my expectations and goals.

This is a picture of my life.  I have made so much progress in my emotional healing, in adjusting to my new life, and conquering the new demands placed on me- that I go ahead and push myself just a little bit further.  And I find myself sprinting the marathon!  I have to stop running, and walk to regain my strength.  I feel defeated and weak.  My soul hurts from the extra push it has been exposed to.  And when I do gather my strength to get back up and run- its just a little further down the path that I find myself walking again.  Why? I've exerted all my emotional strength in the first mile, and have little to nothing left to finish the race.

Another life lesson learned on the trail.  As I was pushing myself to finish that last half mile run, I knew this was what I had been doing in my personal life.  Sometimes it happens intentionally, I truly think that I am ready to take on more, and then when I do I find myself out of breath and struggling just to catch it.  At other times its accidental.  I don't even realize that I've pushed myself beyond my capacity... until I can't run any further.  I stop and walk and realize what I have done.  Maybe the pace was adjusted by adding meaningful activities to my schedule, attending extra church meetings, or adding social opportunities.  It may even be necessities: working extra days, or parenting.  Other people, often well meaning, can set expectations on me that bump up the speed at which I am running.  But whatever the cause, it has pushed me to run at a pace I can't possibly maintain.  Not now. Not at this point in my training.

Being on this marathon, I've learned to watch, to be diligent, and learn to say "no."  Several months into it I felt God closing a lot of doors.  He took me out of every activity I was involved in.  He knew I had 26 miles to run, and if I kept running at the pace I was, I was going to keel over on the sidelines along the way.  I've found I have to stand up and defend my pace from time to time.  People put expectations on me that I can't possibly fulfill.  They are well intentioned but they don't understand the balance of running the "widow's marathon".   Its easy to talk and sing while walking down the street.  But while running a marathon those simple everyday tasks are much more difficult.   And they effect if I cross the finish line or not.  I try to use my life like a runner uses a running watch.  The watch tells me how far I've run, the pace I'm running at, and my heart rate.  As long as I take time to look at the watch, I will know all the information and can make the right decision.  By knowing my pace, and how far I have left to run, I can adjust myself accordingly.  I am determined to finish this race. And to finish it steady and strong!