Warning: This is a LONG read… so get some popcorn and buckle up 🙂

It’s over! After 6 months of anticipation and training, I completed my first half marathon. What. An. Experience. Seriously! It’s hard to put into words how amazing the St. Jude 1/2 Marathon was this past Saturday. There were several times I almost cried (I’m a baby don’t judge me) because I was just so happy and excited and proud and pumped! I’ve been running for the past 2 years… I’ve done several 5ks and had planned on doing the 1/2 last year but I didn’t. Poor excuses. But, this year I was doing it come hell or high water. I’m 30 years old this year and this is going to be my year. So much has changed just the past few months! For comparison… this is me last year at the St. Jude 5K: I don’t even know that person anymore! The girl on the left was struggling to keep up and frustrated with life and not in good shape. The girl on the right is kicking butt all the way down the line these days. I like her a lot. It’s important to like yourself because God knows if you don’t even like yourself no one else will. Let me start this awesome day from the beginning because like any good story I tell you there has to be some mishaps. Can I get an amen? I left work early on Friday and I knew there were a couple of things I needed to do before getting on my way:

1. Pick up GK

2. Take her to my parents

3. Get gas & put oil in my car

Seems simple, right? Ha ha ha ha. I was able to get number one finished but as I was on my way to drop GK off with my mom, my car decided it wanted to go ahead and run out of gas a few miles earlier than I had anticipated with my awesome odometer watching skills. You see, my car is 17 years old and some things just don’t work like they used to. My gas gauge is a little faulty but I’m usually pretty good about keeping track of my mileage. USUALLY.

This was the worst day ever to run out of gas. I made some phone calls and my mom was nice enough to come pick me up and take me to the gas station. It was here I was hoping they would have a gas can I could buy. Like the one I used to keep in my car. Like the one that was sitting at my house at that present moment. Sigh.

God love my mom but she really does not have good timing when she makes comments to me sometimes.

“How old are you again?”

“You know you should leave a gas can in your car so this doesn’t happen…”

NOT HELPING. That ship has sailed, woman! Jesus take the wheel, or my tongue in this case, and just get me to a gas station.

As my luck would have it the gas station was fresh out of gas cans although they did try to sell me a propane tank.

So… off we go to my apartment to get my trusty gas can (that’s never leaving my car again BTW so you know who to call if you run out of gas…) and go back to the gas station. I think I was clawing my own arms at this point… I can’t even believe this is real life.

I was able to get the gas and get to a station to fill ‘er up and get myself some oil. I was thinking a lot of things… like how when you actually have someone to call and help you it’s a really nice thing. So, here I am still in my work clothes and attempting to put oil in my car for the drive. It was at this point in time I hear, “Let me help you!” God, is that you? I can’t make this stuff up, ya’ll.

I was on the phone with E relaying my ordeal when I turn and see this older man walking towards me. “Here, let me help you,” he says again.

And, guess what? I let him. Because it’s nice to be helped. I’m so over having to do everything myself. Yeah, I can put oil in my own car but heck… So anyway, I hung up the phone with E and started talking to Will who told me he was a traveling preacher and he used to be a mechanic. I told him I was headed to a half marathon and he prayed over my car and then said, “May God bless you, love you, and keep you safe.” Life is crazy sometimes and who knows what kind of angels God puts in our way just when we really need it.

I finally made it to Nashville a couple of hours later and met up with my posse to head to the expo to get our packets and some freebies.

 

After the expo we headed to the Old Spaghetti Factory (where our waiter proceeded to call me “Pippy Longstockings” for the duration of our meal) to carb it up!

After dinner we headed back to the hotel to relax and prepare for race day! The rest of my posse, my two cousins, were still in transit so I made myself comfortable watching the Bruce Jenner interview while they took their sweet time getting to the hotel.

I think it was around two hours after they were supposed to get there they text me:

“We’re here!”

They then proceed to call me. It went a little something like this:

“We’re here!”

“Where? In the lobby?” I get off the bed and start getting shoes on.

“No, outside your room! 211, right?”

I walk to the door, open it… No one there. Poke my head outside. Nothing.

“Umm, no one is outside of my room.”

 “You’re at the Guesthouse hotel, right?!”

“Yes.”

“Next to the Opryland?”

“No.”

This is when I hear hyena laughter on the other end of the phone.

“You’re NOT?”

“No, I’m at the one on whatever-the-street-is!”

More laughing. Clearly they are delirious.

“We’ve been standing outside this room, 211, knocking and saying, ‘Room service!'”

God help us.

Finally… they show up at the correct hotel.

I love those crazy girls. Saturday arrived too soon but man was I ready!

Okay, I have to give a shoutout to E for MAKING my running shirt!! How sweet was that?! She brought it over to me one night… she kills me. So it’s a joke that I always say, “I may run slower than a herd of turtles through peanut butter but at least I run…” Hence the turtle 🙂

RACE DAY!!

 

 

Now to the fun stuff… I was honestly feeling AMAZING until about mile 9. We even stopped for “Selfies at Seven!” There are bands playing all along the way, groups of people out on the street cheering you on, giving you high fives, throwing water on you… it’s awesome! My mental state was kind of starting to crumble on me around 9 and it was tough to push through that mile… 10 was good but by 11 I was starting to be in physical pain. I can’t even begin to describe how tight my body was. It was the weirdest feeling. I wasn’t in excruciating pain but it was definitely hurting. I really, really, really was aiming for under 3 hours but we ended up crossing the finish line at 3:10… But, I am so proud!!! It was my first time and I have plenty of time to start working on my time goals.

Side Note:

Two Rules for Porta-Pottys in a 1/2 Marathon:

1. The main goal is to not pee or poop on yourself.

2. Keep your eyes straight ahead. Don’t look in the hole. Don’t look on the floor. Or the wall. Just save yourself mental scarring and don’t do it.

I know running isn’t really a team sport, but in a way it kind of is… you’re immediate comrades because of your shared love of the run. Any race I’ve ever done has felt that way… you get some super duper motivation and charge from being around other runners. Several of the moments when I was tempted to slow down I got that extra push from the environment. It makes a huge difference. Running a half marathon was one of the best things I have ever done. I definitely would love to do another one but I feel especially lucky I got to do it with some of my favorite people! Life is so good. Don’t ever let people tell you you cannot do something. Or that it’s not worth it. Or too difficult. Or you don’t have the skills or the mindset or the determination. Nothing is impossible if you set your mind to it… I know that’s so cliché but it’s true. YOU are the only thing stopping you from being amazing.

until next time… xoxo, patty lauren