The half that wasn't

As many of you know, last October was the first time I ran a half marathon on my own. As a result, on a whim, I registered for the Missoula Half Marathon in Montana that was occurring on June 24, 2023. Due to various reasons, I chose to cancel that trip, even though I had been training for it since about November of 2022. After a long chat with my running coach, I decided that I was still going to run the half, just in Omaha and solo. We toyed around with names for my half and ultimately chose Empowerment 13.1.

I made a decision that 2023 is going to be the year of empowerment. A year of running my own races and not having others as a crutch to get me to do it. Despite health problems continuing and an introduced injury on my hip that caused me to have to pull back significantly and physical therapy, I was ready to go. I made a race bib for myself and for my coach and three other running club mates that were going to show up on Saturday just to help pace me and support me.

The night before my race, I laid out my outfit perfectly and took the obligatory, “I’m going to race tomorrow, look at my cute outfit” photo, made sure I was hydrated, well fed, and tucked myself into bed early for my six am start time (mainly to beat the heat).

Saturday morning, I woke up but not to the sound of my alarm going off, it was to the sound of the phone vibrating against the wall. Half awake, I woke up and immediately realized that it was light outside which is weird for 4am and just as quickly saw that it was my running coach calling and it was 6:20 AM. My heart sank. My team showed up and I didn’t. I felt awful, disappointed, and a slew of other things. Ironically enough, the sky wasn’t looking too good and the radar said there was a high likelihood that a thunderstorm was brewing. So based on my late wake and that weather, I apologized profusely to my coach and team and said that it probably made more sense to revisit the plan. I told her that I would let them know what I was going to do, whether it was to do it a bit later or to push to the next day.

I sat around for a bit. I cried in frustration. I lost grace for myself and sank into my feelings for a bit. After about an hour, I really started to wrestle with all of it and the thought of not doing my race after all I had done to prepare just wasn’t acceptable to me. I made the decision to do it. I got dressed, and then started having stomach problems and knew that I would need those to pass before trying to venture out. Three and a half hours later, I was ready to go. I know what you’re thinking, “Wow, you waited that long?” I did, I was dressed and set and nothing was going to change my mind. I messaged my team to let them know, knowing they probably went about their days and left the house.

I had my running water vest, electrolyte tablets, glide, gu, and the course was set. I started the run at 12:39 PM. It was already 91 degrees Fahrenheit (roughly 32C). The first three miles felt okay, but I also knew that my tree coverage was ending just after that and it all just went downhill. While I felt okay for the most part, the way my body was responding to the heat and environment wasn’t translating to my run. I kept stopping. I would stop to just enjoy the breeze, to fight through my mind telling me to just quit already and it just kept getting worse and worse. The more steps I took, the more the sun, humidity, and my body just started to get the best of me. It was at this point that my teammate Sarah told me that she was going to be able to meet me, so we planned for her to meet at my checkpoint which was the 6 or so mile (5K) marker before I turned back.

Right after I got off the phone with her, my mind got the best of me in the right way. I made the decision to call it. While I knew that I had been training for this, I was ready, and felt okay, it was not worth the risk of making myself sick because of heat exhaustion. So, I stopped. I called Sarah back, and instead it was a retrieval.

To say that I was mad would be an understatement and I had to make the call to my coach to let her know and I took a deep breath, told her, and her response was beyond what I needed and so I’m going to share the learnings and success in the half that wasn’t:

1.???????Yes, it was a failure but it was also a success. In terms of running a half marathon, it clearly did not happen. I ended at 5.5 miles ( a little over 5k). But, the actual goal was to run my own race. I did exactly that. Despite the day getting the best of me, I showed up for myself.

2.???????Despite not having my team, I still ran. I knew it was going to be solo because I woke up late and still made the commitment to myself to run.

3.???????The old Amber would have never, ever, ever dreamed of attempting or planning such a run. Not ever. This new version of me planned each and every detail of this race. Plotted my course. Asked for help.

4.???????The old Amber would have answered the phone, saw I was late, and just called it then and there. Instead, I still got up and despite each curveball that kept being thrown at me, I prevailed.

5.???????Old Amber would have still tried to finish the race regardless, but instead, I listened to my body and was of sound mind to know better than to risk it.

6.???????Despite the continuous health problems, frequency of doctor visits, the flare up I was dealing with at the time, I still showed up for myself and pushed.

7. Joining a run club was the best decision I ever made. Besides the run plans and such, it provides a next level of camaraderie that I haven't experienced since I was in the military. We show up for one another no matter what. And on Saturday, they showed up for me in person, then via text, facetime, and in person once more.

8. Prior to this solo race, I signed up for and completed a 10 mile race (16.1km), and a 10k race. The first one, I did not know a single person and none of my racemates signed up for it. So therefore, I had already stated completing my goal.

When asked if I was going to attempt it again, my answer is, “no.” I did what I sought out to do and in the words of my son, “Not every race is going to be a personal best.” Sarah, my running club teammate (shown to the right of this) not only showed up but surprised me with a medal. We just had to change it a bit to say "13.1 ISH."

I'll leave you with this.....in terms of recognizing the amount of growth, I would say I won this race. Failure is failure, until it's not.