The fact or power of enduring an unpleasant or difficult process or situation without giving way
Huh. And here I thought it just meant you could perform for a prolonged period of time (stop your snickering...)
But the more I thought about it, the more I agreed with this explanation of what has become such a big part of my life. Because endurance sports are NOT necessarily about distance- they are about so much more than that.
Today I ran in our local Air Force half-marathon. This was my third marathon attempt, and I felt relatively strong with decent training times the last two weeks. As I attempted to look up my bib number Thursday night, I had a small panic attack- every time I typed my name in on the website it stated that I wasn't registered. Finally, I figured out the problem:
Nice job, Stephane. Guess I won't be putting THAT bib in a shadow box...
I picked my running buddy up at 6:45 this morning, and off we went towards our second 1/2 marathon adventure together. When we got to the venue, we were directed to park in a field. I had brought an extra pair of socks in case my feet got wet- but my girlfriend took it to another level. She pulled out plastic grocery bags and tape, and we proceeded to wrap them around our sneakers- genius!
Sexy, no. But genius, yes.
I looked at TIna and said, "One of the best parts about being older is that I just don't give a shit if this look weird."
Several rows of vehicles and odd looks later we realized the grass wasn't actually wet....so we giggled and took off our Kroger bagged feet.
But if that grass WOULD have been wet, we'd have been ready!
The start and finish were on an air strip, and I took a moment to look at the finish line.
Even more impressive was the row upon row of medals hanging on racks. They reminded me of alien pods in a science fiction movie like The Matrix, where the humans are being "farmed". There were 5000 half-marathoners alone, with a total of 15, 000 people combined in the 5K, 10K, half, and full. That's a crap-ton of medals.
OK, The countdown was on. And I had to poop.
Fortunately, the people organizing this gig must be runners too, and understand the importance of an empty GI tract, because there were port-a-pots as far as the eyes could see (or nose could smell ha ha). I narrowly missed dumping my sunglasses into never-never land, but came out unscathed and Tina and I were ready to roll.
And so it began. Five thousand runners headed onto the Air Force base- every Security Force officer's nightmare I'm sure. But to be fair, it's the first race I've ever had to go through a metal detector for!
Mile 1-5 were pretty steady. Unfortunately my head phones had decided not to work properly, so I was only getting bits and pieces of my playlist. You aren't allowed to wear ear phones in triathlons, so luckily I already had some mind games in my back pocket to pull out. I counted to 60 with my foot pace, then 45, 30, and 15 (check Garmin watch). Repeat.
Over and over and over again.
Not very exciting, I realize, but my brain can only handle basic functions after 5 miles. I still would find myself forgetting where I was in my little personal OCD world, then cuss under my breath and start over.
Somewhere between mile 6 and 8 was The Holy Hill from Hell. It seemed like no matter how many times I counted to 60, every time I looked up the hill was STILL THERE. I gave in towards the top and started to walk, but as soon as I did I heard my name.
"Come on Stephanie. You got this!"
The voice did not come from my head ( I usually don't hear imaginary voices until after mile 10...). It was my friend Matt, who was gliding by me with his awesome marathoner wife. And I mean the son of a bitch was literally GLIDING along. AND smiling. He is always smiling. This guy only started endurance sports in 2011, and has tackled everything from 5Ks to ultramarathons. He just did a half-ironman last weekend, for God's sake. And he tells me when he started four years ago, he could barely swim one length of the pool. Here is just a sampling of his medals:
This is Matt and his wife. Aren't they adorable? It was her TENTH half-marathon. And she did it today with a GI bug.
"Alright, alright", I muttered and started up my pace again.
By mile nine, I was in The Dark Zone. That is where fatigue, pain, and general hopelessness of ever getting to the finish line set in. I was nauseated for some reason, and the thought of trudging along for four more miles was daunting, to say the least.
Then the guy in the wheelchair passed me.
Shit.
Mile 10. I was walking a little here and there at this point, since I REALLY was worried about yakking. As I was walking and berating-myself -for-walking, a man in Air Force running gear and a military haircut passed me and said, "I can't say we are almost there yet, but we're close". He was older than me, and I smiled once I realized he had just read my shirt.
I started up again and caught up to him by mile 11.
"NOW I can say it!", he said happily.
"I was so upset with myself back there. Thanks for shaking me out of it".
He put his fist up and replied, "We've got this".
I fist bumped with the American Hero. "Let's finish together", I said.
And so we did. I would have never made that last mile without walking if it wasn't for him. I was hyperventilating to the point my entire right side of my body went numb. My stomach was rolling- I felt like the girl in "Bridesmaids" who is desperately trying to get outside before she shits herself. "Please God don't let me puke until after I get past the guys with the cameras..."
Here I am after getting my medal, thanking the Airman for his service ( I swear I wasn't using him to keep me upright...). Note the gentlemen in a wheelchair on the right!
The fact or power of enduring an unpleasant or difficult process or situation without giving way
Yep. That's what I did today. With a little help from my friends. And a little help from strangers as well.
Endurance sports have taught me so much more than how to swim, bike, and run. It has taught me that I can push through when the going gets rough. It has taught me that I am blessed to physically be able to swim, bike, and run- no matter the pace. And it has taught me that there are some amazingly inspiring people out there. I can only hope that I can be that person one day who helps someone else finish their race, or just keep moving forward.
I missed my personal best by five (#$%&ing) seconds today, and was a little upset about that until I saw the overall results:
1740th out of 5000 runners.
616th out of 2794 women. That's top quartile!
90th out of 415 women ages 40-44. another top quartile!
"HONEY!", I hollered from the computer room. 'Let's go eat some pizza! I earned it!"
Because you don't have to come in first. It's all about crossing the finish line- no matter the distance- knowing you gave your all. And it may also be about being able to eat pizza and drink beer without a guilty conscience.
OK, Ok pizza, beer, and a container of Ben and Jerry's. Don't judge.
Congrats to all the finishers of this weekends' endurance races, no matter where you were or what distance you finished!
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