The battle of the pig

I signed up on Facebook to be notified when I have memories on this date on the time hopper.  Yesterday I was notified of memories from 3 years ago when I ran the half marathon in the flying pig.  What an experience that was.  I still remember the months of training that went into it.  I remember setting everything out the night before.  Facebook reminded me that my inhaler went missing the day before (but was found in time) and that I was having nightmares that I over-slept and missed it.  I had always wanted to be able to run, but never could, even when I was younger, thinner, and in better shape.  About the time I turned 30, however I discovered that I had exercise induced asthma (as well as cold and anxiety induced).  As a kid and teen I had thought that the reason I couldn’t breathe when I exercised was because I was out of shape.  I had several teachers over the years even ask if I had asthma, but as far as I knew I didn’t.  It certainly wasn’t severe enough to send me to the hospital, it just limited my ability to run and participate in vigorous exercise.  After my 31st birthday I got fed up with being fat.  I weighed 365 pounds.  Enough was enough.  I knew I’d have to do something drastic, but with insurance that wouldn’t’ cover it and a lifetime of stomach ailments surgery wasn’t really an option.  I decided instead to do an all meal replacement very low calorie medically supervised plan through the Jewish Hospital in Cincinnati.  I was very successful, in part because with my inhaler and daily asthma medications I was able to get into some fun exercise.  I had no idea that it was even possible to take a deep breath while exercising.  What a difference it made! During the 6 months I was on the program I lost 100 pounds.  In the 6 months following that I lost another 40.  I had started running using the couch to 5k plan and had run a 10 mile race.  Once you run 10 miles, what’s 3.1 more?  So I began training for the half.

The morning of the race I woke up super early with little sleep.  I slathered my body with body glide.  Chaffing is just not OK.  I carpooled with friends to downtown.  I did my routine stretches, hit the bathroom one last time, and lined up in my pen with the other slow folks.  I wasn’t running for time; I was running for completion.  I got my play list ready to go  and we started moving.  I walked briskly to the start line and starting running once I crossed it.  I had reconfigured my playlist the night before to keep things interesting and motivating.  I added several new songs to the list and set it to random.  A smile would cross my face every time a new song would start.  In the almost 3 hours it took me to finish most of the music ran together, but I still remember “Rock This Town” by the Stray Cats coming on early on while I passed the Reds Stadium.  It had me going a little too fast, and it hit me once I hit the bridge to Kentucky.  I had to back it off a little as I ran through Newport and into Covington.  It was still within the first 3-4 miles when I had to cross back to Cincinnati on that bridge next to the railroad tracks.  Bridges and their inclines are the worst!! The sun was finally up and I was wearing down quickly when the “I will survive/I’m a Survivor” mashup by Glee came on.  It was just the song I needed to push up that bridge.  After that I easily looped past the museum center on mile 4 and heading back into the city center on 5th street.  I could tell it was ever so slightly uphill.  I knew the big hill was coming and I had made a deal with myself that I’d walk up the hill to preserve my energy since I had noticed in my training that I didn’t run up them much faster that I could walk up them and when I ran I had considerably less energy, so walking up the steep hills was my strategy.  As I got to the bottom of Eden park hill I saw the marker for mile 6.  That was my walking point.  As I approached it I must have tripped over my feet in excitement and crashed to the ground hitting my left knee.  Well, I was in a race and there was no time to lick my wounds, so I popped up off the ground right into power walking.  I remember passing the pond and the big horse shoe in the road.  Then it gets a little blurry.  I would alternate from running to walking, running on the gentler slopes and downhill portions.  There were some beautiful views from the top.  I’m told Elvis was up there singing, and I’ve seen the pictures, but I must have been so in the zone I never saw him.  I was running low on energy.  I had a few of my energy gel thingys, but with the sun higher in the sky beating down and the Gatorade I opted for over water at one of the hydration stops mixing in my stomach was making me queasy.  Side stitches were constantly threatening.  I was fighting hard to keep going around mile 9, knowing that the big downhill was coming at mile 10.  I remember getting frustrated with my playlist.  It was letting me down.  What really got me through that mile was the crowds cheering on the sides of the road giving high fives to the runners.  The best were those in costume or holding up signs.  “Don’t poop your pants” was my personal favourite.  I finally made it to mile 10 and the downhill portion.  My relief was stymied though by the gastrointestinal ill I was beginning to feel.  I eyed the port a potties as I ran past them, considered stopping to see if that was the answer to the pain I was feeling, but I decided against it in pursuit of beating my uncles half marathon time.  If I could keep it up, I just might beat his time!  The gastro pain passed by the time I got to the bottom of the hill, so I was glad I had ignored it, but the side stitches were back and my feet were starting to hurt from the pounding, and I had no more downhill to look forward too.  The last two miles winding back around in downtown were torture.  There was one section where you run one way just to turn around and run back in the opposite lane.  That was just not interesting enough to keep me going.  I starting thinking about how great it would be to cross that finish line.  I keep telling myself that if I crossed that line I would never ever have to run another step in my life.  I had slowed down so much in the 12th mile that I realized I wouldn’t beat my uncle’s time.  I wasn’t too motivated to push my pace anymore.  Every step hurt. I finally passed the 13 mile marker and could see the finish swine.  It was lined crowds cheering and carrying on.  Seeing the finish and those cheers helped me dig in deep and get that last push I needed to finish.  If you’ve ever talked to someone who’s done a half they will be very quick to point out that it’s 13 POINT ONE miles.  Don’t forget the POINT ONE.  It’s very important.  It is the longest, toughest tenth of a mile ever. I crossed the finish, got my medal and then had to push my way through to get an orange or something and more water to drink. With little cell reception I was having trouble contacting my husband and children who were along the finish line and had to push through a bigger crowd than I did.  I found a spot along the curb, sat down with my goodies, waited for my people, and started plotting how I’d get through a full marathon.

Two months after the race I shattered my right ankle and had to have surgery to put it back together again.  It was a difficult time.  I grieved my ability to run.  I had fought so hard to lose weight and get in shape.  I was off work for 7 weeks and in physical therapy for 3-4 months.  I gained about 20 pounds in those weeks being sedentary.  I pushed too hard too early to run again and would progress only to fall back a couple weeks.  Running had become my outlet to a stressful overfilled life of work, family, grad school, church, etc. And then it was taken from me.  Shortly after I completed physical therapy I found out I was pregnant.  I lost that child a week and a half later.  3 months later I was pregnant again.  That pregnancy was ectopic and ended with a ruptured tube around 7 weeks.  I recovered from that surgery in Disney World.  5 weeks after that surgery I ran the 5k as a part of the flying pig weekend.  I hadn’t really run much.  I wasn’t really able to train.  I needed to prove to myself that I could still do it.  And I did.  It was hard.  Harder even than the half marathon in a lot of ways.  I don’t remember all that much, but I do remember there was this random young woman who everytime we passed each other would cheer me on and encourage me.  I have no idea who she is.  She didn’t do this for anyone else that I saw.  I wondered if she was an angel there to encourage me on the difficult path.  I wonder if she didn’t just make a point to choose one person at random to encourage.  I wondered if she didn’t just have me mistaken for someone else.  Whoever she was and whatever her motivation, she was a huge blessing to me.  That day I wasn’t just fighting for the race.  I was fighting a deeper battle again a dark and sinister foe, the voice of destruction.  The victory of that race was temporary and I went on to keep fighting that voice in future battles, some of which I didn’t fare as well in. 

I love running.  I’m finally back to it.  I was even able to run 5 miles last month and those 20 pounds I gained?  They brought along many more friends, but they are all gone and I actually weight less than I did when I ran the half.  I love running for how I feel afterwards.  I enjoy that I can do it.  I enjoy the mental clarity that comes from it.  I think life can be compared to a long run.  Sometimes we trip and fall, but we get back up.  Some miles are easier than others.  The playlist in our minds has a powerful impact on our ability to get through the tough spots.  Encouragement from friends and even random strangers is priceless.  I also think about the preparation and all the training.  Life is difficult even when we’ve put in the training and have prepared for the road ahead.  It can feel near impossible without the training.  Have you ever felt like you were suddenly thrust into something without warning or adequate preparation?  I know I have many times.  Like the 5k, I had to fight for every step I took in that run.  But fortunately I was not alone.  I had my angel girl to help me along.  Jesus promises that He will never leave us nor forsake us.  He will not call us to something without equipping us.  He does require, however, that we trust Him and lean on Him for understanding and guidance.  And when we do this He will show us great things.  If you are feeling over your head in a battle for which you feel unprepared, I hope this gives you encouragement.  The battles we face are not ours to face alone.  He has already fought on our behalf and He is victorious.  I’m not good at the whole trust thing, but I’m learning.  He is showing me that He is trustworthy.  I am learning, very slowly (much like my running) to take these things to Him in prayer and then step back and see what He can do with it.  I used to only pray about the big things in life, but I’m finding more and more that He’s there in the little things too.  Jesus is in the details of your life and if you ask Him to, He can open your eyes to see how He is there with you for every step, clearing the way to a hope and a future.