Stuffed Husband and I are not typically the kind to plan far in advance for anything really. It is characteristic of our relationship that we play most things by ear. Perhaps that is why we are both in our late twenties and still trying to finish up degrees. Perhaps planning may have benefited us in that case. Late last year we actually planned to run the Rock N Roll New Orleans half marathon. Months in advance we registered and began training.
Two weeks into training I came down with my third sinus infection in a row and took a break from training. Stuffed Husband, in his undying loyalty to me, decided to take a break as well. Soon the sinus infection was remedied with medication, rest, and the love of that dude I share a bed with. Two weeks later, I came down with the FLU! I’m not sure if it has to do with working with 5-7 year olds or that my immune system took a long vacation but I was sick again. So again training fell to the wayside. My doctor even recommended I give up training for this race so as to allow my body to fully recover. Silly physician.
To make a very long story short, the week before the race I decided I could not stay away. So, against doctors orders and any good sense, I decided I would race. NO training, NO plan, and NO one was going to tell me otherwise. I’m just a rebel that way. Stuffed Husband conceded he really wanted to give it a go too and so we did.
After the longest two and a half hours of my life, I completed my first half marathon. The girl who could hardly complete the one mile challenge in high school gym class had now just run a half marathon. The feeling of accomplishing that was one that I will carry with me forever and always. Next time though, I will have a PLAN. I will train. I will avoid little kids with germs that may lead to the flu, chicken pox, or whooping cough. I mean really, I even ended up with thrush last year after being on antibiotics so long.
In the end, I did something I sincerely wasn’t sure I could do. I wanted it. I wanted it badly. But the odds of completing the race with almost no training and running less than three times a week lately seemed pretty slim to me. I guess what I really learned is that we are all capable of more than we think we are. It is a matter of continuing to put one foot in front of the other, a matter of not stopping when it gets difficult, and a matter of wanting it badly enough to trust yourself. Of course afterward I trusted myself with a bowl of ice cream. Silly me.
Happy Hungry Girl.
Peace, love, and pacing it 13.1 miles
~The Hungry Wife
much less a candle…oh well”
