I really don't know how to begin this post.
So, I'm just gonna be 100 with you guys.
Y'all know that I've been training for that half-marathon right? Well it was last Sunday. And I didn't run in it.
Disappointed doesn't even BEGIN to describe how I feel.
My in-laws came in town Friday night to watch my minions and cheer me on. Saturday, I prepped with a 5 mile walk. I took them shopping. We had a BBQ. It was a fantastically wicked good time. They are fun and ridiculously supportive. I just love them to pieces.
As I started to lay out all of my stuff for the race that night, I realized---I FORGOT TO PICK UP MY RACING PACKET.
*heavy sigh*
If you've never run in a race, you probably have no idea what that means. Or how big of a deal it is NOT to have it. Long explanation short: without your racing packet (and your racing bib) you can't participate in the race. NO EXCEPTIONS.
You see how many times they have NO EXCEPTIONS written in the FAQs? In ALL CAPS? That was obviously written for forgetful idiots like me.
My hubby and I drove to the pickup site hoping, praying, that someone was still there.
But there was no one in sight.
I cried all the way home.
And all night.
When I had to tell my mother in law, father in law, grandmother in law, and sister in law--all who had all traveled hours just for this occasion, that I couldn't race---my heart broke. They have been cheering me on---supporting me for over 6 months while I trained. My father in law walked miles and miles with me. My mother in law helped me find the race gear that I needed. My sister in law watched my kids so that I could go and run. They've been there for in a 100 ways. And I let them down.
I know that my memory is pretty much garbage. But I knew what I was supposed to do. I had a reminder programed in my phone. I'd read all of the requirements and FAQs ahead of time. I made a race day list and had it stored in my notes. I thought that I was prepared.
I don't even have a good excuse y'all.
I just forgot.
Race day morning, my father in law encouraged me to still go out and run. Not at the race---but along my training course. I didn't really want to. But I didn't want to just sit there either.
So I ran.
It was so hard. And I cried for the first 5 miles. I went over and over in my head all of the ways and people that I failed. I was angry. I was sad. I was disappointed. I was mad. I was really a hot mess.
My negative thoughts were all consuming and had complete control of me.
Then...I heard my RunKeeper app say that I was on mile 8.
What the whaty? How did I run 8 straight miles without stopping? Without needing my inhaler? Without struggle?
Never had that happened when I was training.
So, I stopped pouting, stalking, and complaining to concentrate on my running.
My legs and hips hurt but I refused to stop.
Before I knew it---I was done.
13.1 miles complete.
I wish that there had been a finish line to cross. My family cheering me on. Maybe a little rainbow colored confetti. Oh...and a shiny half-marathon medal around my neck.
*le sigh* I really wanted that medal y'all.
But---I still did EXACTLY what I'd set out to do. Run 13.1 miles without stopping in less than 2 hours and 30 minutes.
Will I train for another half-marathon any time soon? Man---idk--I still really want that medal but the wounds are still too fresh.
I just want to thank y'all for all of your support. and I promise to do better next time. "Failure is only the opportunity to begin again, only this time more wisely."
Besitos
KLP
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