I ran my first half-marathon last weekend with my friend Erin. And while running helps with ADHD, my ADHD certainly hindered my pre-race preparation. I knew we had to get up super early so I laid out everything the night before...mostly. I stressed over the weather, it was going to be cold and windy, but what if it warmed up, what layers could I take off and throw away in the street to be given to charity. Why is it when I have to choose something from my closet to give to charity suddenly every sweatshirt became my favorite sweatshirt, even if I had not worn it in years. Finally my sweet husband offered up one of his.
So I had my outfit all ready, my nutrition, my new running belt, my number, my shoes and oh yeah, I had a certain pair of socks I wanted so I put them in the washer. I was ready to go.
The alarm went off the next morning at 5am and the first thing out of my mouth was, "Why do I sign up for these things?" But I got up and put on my running clothes (I had conveniently showered the night before...see I was prepared.) Uh oh, my socks were still in the washer. And I had to have those socks. I dug them out and put them by themselves in the dryer.
I tried to continue getting ready, but this disrupted my flow. All I could think about was my socks. I also realized I hadn't taken my medicine I have to take an hour before eating so I could not eat at home. I had to take breakfast on the go. I did the best I could at getting ready, luckily I had my husband helping me out and got everything together. Went to check on the socks and they were still wettish so he put them in the microwave for me. I was terrified of my socks catching on fire, because without these socks I could not run. Not really, I run in other socks all the time, but that was the state I was in.
On a random side note....can I tell you that the stupid huge ad that pops up in the corner of my screen is really annoying because I can't see what I am typing and even though I keep running spyware and virus checks it insists on staying there.
Okay continuing on...we finally get it all together...it looks like I am going on vacation for a week, not running 13.1 miles, but I believe I have everything I need.
We were meeting friends a few miles away and all driving in together. We just about get to our meeting spot and I realize I have forgotten my water bottle.
Now let me tell you about my water bottle. It is a really cool water bottle. It is shaped to follow the curve of your back and has a hooked part so you can hang it on the back of your pants. I bought the bottle specifically to run this race with. I am not the best runner ever (or even a fair runner) and wanted to be sure I had water with me. So I was very distressed at the thought that I had forgotten something so important. But I could not go back for it. I was sad.
In real life the water bottle doesn't really look like a snake with a sombrero. For real pics of it go to simplehydration.com. (And no I didn't get paid to endorse this water bottle, I paid almost full price for it...it's just really great and I love it...except for the lid's a bit hard to open while running. Almost perfect though).
Continuing on...I told everyone about my plight and my friend offered me her bottle because she probably wasn't going to run with it. I decided that I would be fine getting water from the water stations and being that it was cold out, it should be enough. But my ADHD had kicked in. Even though I knew in my head that I was fine and would run without water I could not stop talking about the water bottle. This prompted my friends to keep offering me solutions. I did not want solutions, I already had a solution, I just could not stop talking about the problem.
Finally we get to the race...about 45 minutes earlier than we needed to be (I totally could have gone back for the water bottle). I was afraid there was going to be crazy traffic, apparently not. So we all sat and chatted for a while. I'm sure it was more I chatted and they listened politely wondering if they could signal each other to have me thrown out of the car.
Now it was race time...and I'm get a little more nervous. The furthest I have ever run is 10 miles the previous Saturday and that was really hard. I was going to run 13.1 miles today. We wait in line to use a porta-potty. Side note...I hate porta-potties and will do anything to avoid them. But when you have to go and you have 13 miles of running ahead of you, you go.
Next we went to go get in line. There were over 10,000 people racing and we were back in corral 13. So we had a ways to walk, in fact the race started before we got back to our corral. Which freaked people out that were supposed to be in the front corrals. They were pushing through the crowd to get to their spot. I figured we all had those time thingys on our shoes, who cares when you actually cross the start line.
We finally pushed our way into our corral which was a good place to be. Much less wind and cold when you are surrounded by thousands of people. And 25 minutes later we were off. I was finally working on completing this goal I had set for myself about 6 months prior. So here is a breakdown of the miles of the race.
Mile 1: This is so much fun, the band was good, the people running around me are about my pace, my friend is staying with me for a while, I can do this.
Mile 2: Erin has to pee, I didn't have to, but when someone talks about having to pee then you have to pee and I might as well being as we had stopped already anyhow. And it felt better to get that out of the way.
Mile 3: Still doing great, the first half is up-hill, but we have been training on hills and so it's not a big deal. I am still able to chatter away the entire time, so I know I am running an okay speed for now. Bands are not quite as good now. In fact we ran past what appeared to be an older Dallas socialite with lots of plastic surgery singing ZZ Top by herself while wearing a full length fur coat. (Have I even mentioned yet that there are bands every mile? If not, there are.)
Mile 4: I slow down, a lot, Erin decides it's time for her to go do her own thing. This was planned and I was surprised she stayed with me as long as she did. Especially with my incessant chattering. Now it's just me and the road (well and the thousands of people around me) for another 9 miles.
Mile 5: Still feeling good, but getting warm. I take off my sweatshirt, but can't bear to throw it away. I know my husband will be seeing me at mile 6 so I decide to hold on to it. By the way I'm texting and running...kinda tells you how fast I was going.
Mile 6: Yay...here is my husband...I give him my sweatshirt (technically it's his sweatshirt) he runs with me for a second and I tell him how great I feel and how good it's going.
Mile 7: I pass the point where the relay runners trade off. I think I'm so glad I am running the whole thing...I'm still feeling great.
Mile 8: We finally reach the highest point of the race...the rest is all downhill. By the way I congratulate myself every time we go up a steepish hill...most everyone stops to walk...but not me, I've been training on hills so I keep going.
Mile 9: I think I'm going to die. It's kinda downhill, but suddenly my legs weigh 1000 pounds each. I want to stop and walk so badly, but my ego will not let me. But I kinda have to pee and if I go pee I have to wait in line and then get to sit down for a minute. Sounds like a fantastic plan to me. Suddenly the porta-potty is a welcomed sight.
Mile 10-13: These are all a painful blur. Who said the last 3 miles will just happen on race day? I've only ran 10 miles one time in my life. That was not enough training apparently. I got to see my husband at mile 10...this time I was not so positive. But I kept going.
Finally someone says we have 200 yards to the finish line. I'm trying to work out in my head if it's 2/3 of a football field or 2 football fields. It felt more like 100 football fields. It seriously was the longest 200 yards ever. To make matters worse photographers are taking my picture left and right. I don't have it in me to even pretend like I am a champion and almost done. My husband texts me to tell me where he is. I don't even care that I'm close to the finish line, I don't have anything left in me to sprint for the finish. Instead I read his text and look around at all the people. The Dallas cheerleaders were there, looking tired as well. Being as they had been cheering for the last 2 hours I don't blame them.
And I cross the finish line. I did it.
Unfortunately the way it's set up I have to walk through an area with drinks and food before I can find my husband. All I want is to see him, but I get enough clarity to realize I should take everything in sight to eat and drink. I'm also handed my medal. That is awesome...it's really heavy and feels like I must have done something amazing to get it. I put it on so my hands are free to grab bananas, bagels and chocolate milk. Finally I'm out of that mess and into my husbands arms. I cried...partly because I did it, but mostly because I was completely and utterly spent.
Erin is there waiting as well, well sitting on the ground eating and drinking as much as she can. We finally get slightly rested and take some pics. In the spirit of my blog I will draw what the pics looked like.
Then we get some bad news from the husbands...the car is about a 1/2 mile away. That was a very very very long 1/2 mile.
My favorite comment was from my son who saw my medal and asked if I had won the race...I had to let him know that no I did not win it. He then asked if I got 6th place...how about 9000ish place. But who cares...I did it!!
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