My First Half Marathon Recap: Gate City Took Me for an Emotional Ride

 Anyone close to me, my parents, my husband, my friends that are my family, know that I'm notorious for holding myself back in life. Whether it's in my career, my schooling or just getting ahead I do things to sabotage myself. My weight is a prime example of this. I know how to eat healthy and exercise, but I can go long periods of time where I consciously abuse myself with food.

My running is not safe from my self-sabotaging.

And this is exactly what I did to myself during my very first half marathon, the inaugural Gate City Half on Sunday, May 15. The race I'd been training 4 months for. 

All that training, all the time away from my family, all of my hard work and effort that I put in and I fell back into old habits and held myself back. I kept myself from running the race I knew I could. I let myself down. 

Let me just say that before we go any further I don't want you to think I'm going to be all emo about my race results. These past few weeks I've gone back and forth between feeling extremely proud of myself for completing a half marathon when less than a year ago I couldn't stand running and extremely disappointed in how I ran that race, that I held myself back and didn't run the race I was capable of. 

At the start of it I was nervous, scared even. The enormity of what I was about to do got to me. I tried to tell myself it was just another long run but my brain knew better. I was nervous but excited too. After the gun went off I spent a good 5 minutes slowing my pace down. I couldn't run a 9mm half marathon. I wouldn't make it past 5 miles. I managed to get myself down to an 11 minute mile where I knew I would be comfortable for the first 5 miles or so of the race. Then I needed to pee. 

I tried not to think about it but as I was completing the first loop (it consisted of 3) back to the start I remembered where the porta-potties were and made a break for it. I didn't care that it would add 2 minutes to my finishing time. I wanted to be comfortable for the next 7 miles.

The Halfway Point

After kissing my family and hugging a childhood friend who surprised me by coming out to watch me run, I was off for loop 2. The wind really beat me up here. I knew that I needed to crank up the pace but I just couldn't. I felt like I was running in place for most of it.  I also had lost my pack so I was running solo. I felt incredibly lonely. Usually, I prefer to run by myself but today this really bugged me. I did pass a runner here and there, but I noticed even the water stops didn't have many volunteers. The vibe was different. It was desolate.  

Surprisingly, it took me until mile 8 to believe I could finish the race that no matter what happened I would get it done. This was another proud moment and I think it shows in my time for the following mile. 

By mile 9 Florence and the Machine's "Dark Days are Over" came on over my headphones and I was finally able to crank my pace up. Incredibly,  this was my fastest mile of the half marathon. It still wasn't as fast as I knew I could go this late in the game though. 

Let me say that again:  Mile 9 was my fastest mile. I'm proud of that. 

By mile 10 "AC/DC's "Highway to Hell" came on which was perfect because my left ankle started to go and I felt like I was on my way to hell. Searing pain radiated up from it. I stopped at the next water station to stretch it out but it didn't help. I pushed on. 

By this point I just floated on the realization that I was going to see my family for the second and last time before the finish. 

Mile 11 took me back to the start/finish line. While grabbing Gatorade the volunteer looked at me, looked at my bib and said, "Sabrina!  Look over there!"  My family was screaming and cheering me on to keep moving.  I also saw my friend Ang and called to her.  She had been wanting to run a leg with me and I knew she would catch up with me at the end which is exactly what she did.  She told me to hurry up and we were off for the last 2 miles.

Now miles 12-13.1 were uncharted territory for me.  My training had only taken me as far as 11 miles.  In retrospect, I really wish I had made the effort to get the full 13.1 miles in.  It would have lessened some of my pre-race anxiety.  I really feel like my nerves just zapped me.

I expressed my concern to my friend and told her that my pace was waaaay off.  She quickly replied with what I kept telling myself in my head but my heart didn't believe, "No, it's not.  It's your first half marathon.  Whatever you get is a PR. You don't want to set the bar too high on your first time out because then you can't PR the next time."

I kept moving.

I hit mile 12.5 and it sucked.  In order to complete the last 2 miles of the race I had to re-do part of the first loop I ran.  The volunteers warned us that some of it was going to look familiar and not to worry.

I let out a loud, "Ugh. Not this again." when I saw where we were.  This part of the course wasn't bad, it wasn't scenic either, but I just had no desire to be back where I had started.  I just wanted to be D-O-N-E.

At this point I really wanted to walk.  I was hurting.  I felt like I was just walking fast and barely moving.  But my friend just kept encouraging me and taking pictures of me to document the moment. It kept my mind off the pain in my left ankle.

When I hit the mile 13 marker the volunteers started clapping and other runners that were done racing gave me thumbs up.  I started singing out loud, "My quads are in fire!" as I approached the finish line.

But I did it.  I hobbled to the finish line.  As soon as I was done the race director gave me my medal and told me she loved my Wonder Woman headband because she has the same one.  I told her it was my first half marathon and that earned me an extra congratulations.

I limped back to my family who immediately sat me down.  My best guy friend who had driven down from Maine to cheer me on asked, "Um, you do realize you are limping, right?"  Right.

My 3 year old daughter gave me my Train Like a Mother 13.1 medal that I had earned for completing the half marathon training program through Another Mother Runner.

Friends from my running group, Mom's Run This Town, came over to congratulate me.

Ang handed me a jello shot.  I had earned it.

I spent the rest of the day relaxing and trying to figure out what happened, why my pace was so off.  Why couldn't I ever seem to speed it up?  Why did I hold myself back yet again?  Surely, I did something to sabotage this race for myself.  Why can't I live up to my potential once and for all?

Then I looked at my Garmin, specifically at the elevation chart. One look at it told me all that I needed to know.  This wasn't a flat course.  It was fairly hilly with an elevation gain of over 300 feet.  My poor ankle that sustained a ligament tear in the fall was put to the test with all the of rolling hills.

Realizing this gave me some reassurance that I ran the best I could on a hilly course while being battered by wind gusts of up to 30 MPH.

I'm proud to be a half marathoner.  I didn't run like I knew I could but there were circumstances out of my control.  You can't train for wind for one.

There was only one way to make myself feel better about this race.  I signed up for my next one on October 2.  Smuttynose Rockfest here I come!

It's billed as being flat and fast by the way.  

Follow me Facebook, Instagram and Twitter.

"I'm a Runner too, Mommy!"

I grew up fat (you can read more about that HERE) and because of that I am very conscious of what I say and do around my daughter when it comes to my own struggles with weight and body image.  She has a healthy sense of self and I never want that to change.

That being said, I make sure she sees all of the hard work I put into taking care of myself.

She watches me run, sometimes cheering me on from the living room window.  When I do strength training and yoga, she does strength training and yoga.  I never force her to join me.  I rarely even ask, but she sees mommy doing it so it must be what women do and she joins in.

Now I just started running less than a year ago, my "runniversary" will be July 5, and it was a long time before I saw myself as a runner.  In fact, I'm not even sure at what point I had finally convinced myself that I was a runner.  Yes, I run several miles a week, trained and completed my first half marathon, PR'ed in a 5K and invested in all the fancy timing gadgets, but was I a runner yet?  Meh.

Back in March I signed her up for her first run a "Leprechaun Dash" which was held before the Shamrock Shuffle that I pushed her in the jogging stroller during.  She bubbled over with excitement about it and in the weeks leading up to the event she told everyone that she was going to run and get a medal just like mommy.

When the big day came she nearly backed out of it.  The main race was quite large with 3,000 runners and there were even more people milling about with the St. Patrick's Day parade being held right after (attendance for that was estimated to be 12,000).  All of the excitement, crowds, and noise got to her and she wanted nothing to do with it.  Well, until she found a friend from school who was also running it and then she was all in.  She happily took her position at the start line.  When I screamed, "Go!" after the announcer started the race she took off with the biggest grin on her face.  At the finish line I greeted her with her very own medal that I had purchased from a virtual race company.  She beamed.  Her little 3 year old life had been made.  She finally had her medal just like mommy.

The medal I purchased for her.

Now that the New England weather is warming up and the Spring runners are back out on the road, Scarlett is quick to point them out.  "Mommy!  He's running just like you!  Just like you, Mommy!"

The other day, however, I saw a runner first and said, "Scarlett, look!  She's running just like Mommy."

Her response?  "Just like me, Mommy.  I'm a runner too.  She's running like me."

She's 3 years old and already she sees what most women, including myself, can't - she sees herself as a runner.

I hope that never changes.

Follow me Facebook, Instagram and Twitter.

How I Found Joy While Running My First 10 Mile Race

Sunday, August 24 was a pretty special day for me. No, it wasn't the day my daughter was born or even the day I married my best friend.

But still, it was important to me.

It was the day of my first ever 10 mile race, a truly monumental day for me in my young running journey. Prior to this race, I had only run 10 miles three times in my life. There was a part of me that felt like I had no business running a race of this length yet, having just started running 8 months prior, but I placed all of my trust in my training so I knew running this race was exactly what I was supposed to be doing.

Probably the smartest thing I did was to mentally prepare a plan for how I was going to run it which calmed my type-A personality. Miles 1-5 I was going to stay as close to an 11 minute mile pace as I could even though I knew I could run a 10:35mm and still make out ok.  Since I was running this without my training buddy and the best runner I know, I wanted to make sure I was safe and I could finish it STRONG.   At mile 5, I planned on grabbing Gatorade from the water station that I was going to walk (gasp!) through and then take off running again while quickly chomping down my Honeystinger gummies.  After that I was free to pick up the pace as much as I could with the goal of making my last mile my fastest.

It helped that my music was perfectly timed to either slow me down or speed me up based on what mile I was on. Knowing this really allowed me to enjoy the run.

Yes, you read that right. I ENJOYED running a 10 mile race!  Even with Queen, Prince and Guns and Roses blaring over my headphones I was able to take in the coastal scenery as well as the beauty of what my body is capable of doing.

Miles 1-4 were truly peaceful. My mind was at ease with the task at hand. I knew I had awhile to go before I would be done so why not relax and let my legs take over?   I had plenty of time to think about how my running has changed both the shape of my body and my overall health. I no longer struggle from terrible stomach pains (hello, leaky gut), migraines and neck/shoulder pain on a daily basis. My last blood test results showed the inflammation that was tearing my body apart over a year ago was almost all gone. Not to mention my wonderfully high triglyceride level that my doctor was genuinely amazed by. "See that number?" he questioned at my last visit,  "That's what all your running has done."  

Miles 5-7 were spent thinking about my mom and how she can barely walk. She long ago chose to not take care of herself full well knowing our family history of heart disease, diabetes and cancer. Knowing I don't want to suffer like she is with her many ailments, pushed me to keep running even when the little voice in my head snarked, "You know, when you run your half marathon in 3 weeks you won't even be halfway done yet."  Ugh, shut it, girlfriend.  

One of the many reasons why I've learned to love running is because I can set goals and test my limits. I've slowly learned how to be alright with being uncomfortable. On the flip side, I believe running has a meditative quality to it. If you can get in that peaceful zone then you feel like you can run forever and that is a beautiful thing for your mind and body to be so connected. You forget about that uncomfortable feeling.  You do what our bodies were designed to do - to move, breathe deeply and sweat. It's very freeing and empowering to get to that point in your running when the endorphins take over and you're just happy. 

That brings us to miles 8-10. I was still in a good mood, flying by everyone at the remaining 2 water stops. I knew I'd see my family soon which gave the little boost to push harder.  At that point, I was also dreaming of a cold beer and a cheeseburger. Mile 9 included a hill which was rough on my tired legs, but the view at the top of the Massachusetts coast was worth it. When I hit the final quarter mile Queen's "I Want It All" came blaring over my headphones.  It was my cue that this race was nearing the finish line. I gave myself a cheer and a fistpump, because, let's be honest, if you can't do one for yourself who is going to do it for you?  I was overjoyed to see my family waiting for me at the finish line and to hear my 3 year old yell, "Go Mommy!"  

The best part was I felt great!  I could have kept going if I needed to, but I was thankful to be done. 

I started, ran and completed that race with a smile on my face and a mind and heart full of joy.

I'm ready for my first half marathon now.  I know my mind and body can handle another 3.1 miles because really, after you've run ten miles 3.1 is only a 5K.


Follow me Facebook, Instagram and Twitter.

Race Night Rituals

 ***UPDATE******

I've since run this race finishing it in 1:47.  I couldn't have enjoyed it more!  You can read my write up of it HERE.  

This post contains affiliate links.

In less than 13 hours I'll be standing at the starting line of my longest race to date  - the North Shore 10 Miler in Ipswich, MA.  My training plan calls for 11-12 so I'll be hitting the treadmill nice and early so I can get a solid mile in at minimum before I leave for the coast.

Although my goal race isn't for another 3 weeks, a lot of preparation has gone into this race as well.  I started my Half Marathon training back on February 1 keeping in mind that I would be training for this race in the process.  This 10 miler is a "training race" for me.  It will allow me to test my pre-fuel, fueling and recovery process.  Also, I will be running in new shoes so it will allow me to test those as well.  Not to mention the new calf sleeves (for compression), socks that prevent blisters and my new sparkle skirt although I don't think it will be warm enough to test out that one.  Boo.

In the week leading up to this race I've been working hard to make sure my nutrition is on point, lots of water, a New Nuun Active: Hydrating Electrolyte Tablets, Citrus Berry Mix, Box of 4 Tubes  every day and tons of protein and veggies.  The 2 days prior I bumped up my carb intake too even though my body isn't a fan and doesn't always like to absorb it.  I eat the healthier carbs like quinoa.

Cardio the day before the race. For me not my dog.

Since this race is on the coast and cell reception is likely to be spotty I got some assistance from my wonderful husband to download songs for a new playlist.  I'm hoping 2 hours is long enough.  Let's face it if it's not than I'll just listen to myself cry my way to the finish line.  I'd really like to finish around 1:45.

In case you are curious, my run will start with the song "Misirlou" from the Pulp Fiction Soundtrack and will continue to be fun but low key for the first 45 minutes.  Then halfway through around mile 5 Queen's "Don't Stop Me Now."  Yes, I think of Shaun of the Dead every time I hear it which makes me laugh.  Finally, a little GNR to get me through the last push with "Welcome to the Jungle."  I'll know I am taking too long if I hear Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire."  Here's hoping this extra mental motivation will work!

My pre-race fuel and my recovery drink are both from Vega Sport Pre-Workout Energizer, Acai Berry, Tub, 19oz   I'll be fueling up around mile 5 with my gummy Honey Stinger Organic Energy Chews, Fruit Smoothie, 1.8 Ounce (Pack of 12)  and Nuun will be in my hydration pack.

As you can see, I like to be prepared.  Here's hoping all of these pre-race rituals will pay off!

Good night!

Why I Won't Cuddle My Daughter Anymore

For this week, I naively rearranged my half marathon training schedule so I could capitalize on the predicted sunny and warm spring weather. That meant Monday and Tuesday were rest days with a few rounds of strength training.  I enjoyed the downtime and was even able to perform the Food Intolerance Test my nutritionist gave me. Life was good and everything was going smoothly.

Then I had to put my 3 year old daughter to bed.

Over the last several weeks I've grown to dread our once private and pleasant Mommy - daughter cuddle fests in her big girl bed. She would tell me all about who hit and pushed who in her Nursery Class and I would listen with rapt attention. Then something changed. She became wild at bedtime and our cuddles turned into kicks and headbutts. It was painful. I barely endured it. I secretly didn't want to cuddle with her anymore.

Ahoy, mateys!  It's a pirate's life for me.

This particular Tuesday night was no different from the rest. She went bonkers at bedtime.  All of my questions to find out the events of her day were answered with silly noises and nonsense. I finally sang her the bedtime song she's had since she was a baby: "Soft Kitty" from the TV show The Big Bang Theory. At the end I leaned in for one last kiss and it was met with the most horrific pain I've ever felt. It took everything I had to not scream and fling obscenities at her. I managed an, "I'm all done with this!" before I stormed out the door and slammed it behind me.

I ran into the bathroom to quickly wash my face in the hopes of alleviating some pain. It almost helped.

I jumped into the shower and tried to forgot that my 3 year old just punched me in the eye.

Only, she didn't punch me in the eye, but I didn't know that yet. Even when I woke up at 3 am with a swollen eye that dripped tears like a leaky faucet I didn't think anything different, just, "Wow, she got me good!"  At 5:30 am when my alarm went off and I quite literally stumbled out of bed and couldn't open my right eye because of the blinding pain, I started to get concerned.

I told myself and my husband that I just needed some ice and ibuprofen and I'd be fine. Don't worry about me. I've got this. I even straightened my hair with a burning hot flat iron with my eyes closed thinking I'd still be going to work.

I'm in total control. I've got this.

2 hours of icing my eye and 800 MG of ibuprofen later and I was ready to relinquish control and give up. Somewhere around the 1 hour mark I had called work to let them know I'd be a little late, "Oh no big deal, my daughter punched me in the eye and I'm blind now."

 It was now time to wave the white flag and call the doctor's office.

After explaining my situation and admitting that just maybe, maybe my daughter didn't just punch me in the eye but she actually scratched it, the nurse told me that I had better come in to get checked out and not to drive.

1 mile walk from hell, but we met a cat.

Luckily, my father lives only a half hour away so he was able to drive me to my appointment which was a good thing because by that point the only way I felt good was to lay down with my eyes closed. The dangerous part about that was my 3 year old, who was home with me, knows how to open doors. She kept begging me to go out and play. As tempted as I was to kick her out of

the house for beating me up, I silently thanked our landlord for installing a deadbolt and crawled back to the couch.

The doctor confirmed my suspicion - I had a scratched cornea.   When putting Scarlett to bed she hadn't punched me, she scratched the outer protective layer of my eye and left a good sized abrasion.

The remedy was an eye patch, eye drops and a follow-up appointment in 2 days. Oh, and no work or driving for the rest of the day. Sounds great, right?

Needless to say, the rest of my day was spent watching kids' TV shows and "relaxing" while watching my 3 year old with my eyes closed. Because I'm stubborn as hell, we managed to take a 1 mile walk around the neighborhood which I almost instantly regretted.

 And I thought I was going to run 7 miles that day!

"Mommy, I'm a pirate!"  Glad you think it's funny, kid.

A very sweaty 5K 3 days "after."

In the end, (a lot of) wine was consumed, a candy bar was eaten and I resumed normal activities the next day. By Friday, I was running again and that same day I found out the abrasion was completely gone. Who knew the eyes heal so quickly? 

I know you are all wondering if I still snuggle with Scarlett at bedtime anymore and the answer is I do not. She knows she poked mommy in the eye and it made her a pirate for the day, which was not as fun as it may seem.  She's not happy I won't cuddle in her big girl bed anymore but she knows that when she learns to settle down we will try again. Until then I simply sing her our bedtime song, give her a kiss while I hold her hands down to her sides and then quickly flee the room because this Momma is no dummy.