An Imperfect Athlete

I am an athlete.

When I was a kid, a teenager, you would never hear me say this.

I was a cheerleader in high school, and one that could not even do a cartwheel!  I was not an athlete and growing up where I did, being an athlete was a big deal.  Almost everyone was in some type of sport.  Not me, not my family.

After I grew up and left home I experienced more of life.

I dated a rock climber and hiker.  I did some rock climbing and a lot of hiking.  I dated a skier.  I did a lot of skiing (and became pretty good at it).  I married Mike, we joined a gym and lifted weights together, and I was in really good shape.  But I did not consider myself an athlete.

I had a baby and still went to the gym where I lifted weights and added running on the treadmill to get rid of that extra girth.  I did not like running, I just did it because it served a specific purpose. Life got busier and I "quit the gym".  It was not a part of life.  I was not an athlete.

Yesterday I finished my first half marathon.  I did not finish in a noteworthy time, but I finished.  Finishing the race did not make me an athlete.

A few months ago, a friend mentioned that I should do this race with her.  I have had it on my "Bucket List" for a while to run a half marathon but I have been afraid.  Not of the race, but afraid of the training, the time it would take.  I would run 3 miles and think "A 10K is double this, and a half marathon is more that twice that distance!!!  Ugg!  I don't think I could do that!"  In spite of those thoughts, a goal of a half marathon made it on my bucket list.  When she mentioned this race to me I knew this was a terrible time to commit to such a lofty goal.  Financially we were (and still are) in a very tight spot.  We just settled a law suit which added mental stress, financial stress, and the cause of the suit is the reason for our financial pinch.  How could I justify paying for an entry fee and the new pair of shoes I would need in the middle of my training?  Time wise I was also in a tight spot, working two jobs and still trying to manage the other things that take a wife and moms energies.  How could I justify taking time away from my house and family to commit to training.

In spite of all that, I committed, paid, and started training.

I found I could train in the midst of the chaos of my everyday, stressful life.

I found running was a big stress relief.  A way to let go.  A way to ponder life's struggle.  A way to deal with, or forget the stress. A way to sleep well at night in spite of the stress.

Somewhere in that training, I became an athlete.  A person who COULD do it.  A person who WANTED to do it.

Around mile 4 of the race yesterday, a fellow athlete came up beside me and did the unthinkable.  In spite of my ear buds pumping music in my ears, she started a conversation with me.  Now this woman was older than I, and to look at her, one would never say "Now there's an athlete!" yet she proceeded to tell me her story.

She has done too many half marathon's to count and has also done several triathlons.  Her first half marathon was done after she dropped 75 pounds, and at the finish line of that particular race she told me she dropped several strong words that she used to call herself.  A coworker told her the other day "You don't look like an athlete."  In my opinion, she is an extreme athlete.

My friend completed her first half marathon a year after a double mastectomy.

A woman at the starting line let us know she was nervous because this was her first half marathon and she just went through a hysterectomy 15 days ago.

A woman wrote on the "Wall of Words" that she runs because she survived being run over by a car.  Another woman wrote "I run to quiet the voice inside my head that tells me I'm not good enough."

I run because I don't want heart problems that some family members have.
I run because I don't want to take antidepressants again.
I run because I want to relieve stress and sleep well.
I run to have nice legs!
I run to be a good example for my daughter.
I run so I can be a better wife, mother, employee.
I run so I can have solitude.
I run for the scenery, the adrenaline rush, the natural high.
I run so I can have a glass of wine and chocolate.
I run because I have a diagnosis, a disease, that wants to tell me I can't run.
I run so that I can tell this disease where it can go.
I run so that NO ONE will feel pity for me because of this diagnosis.

As I thought of that woman's story, I figured that for as many women were running that 13.1 miles, there were that many stories of victory, loss, perseverance, overcoming obstacles.  I asked this woman, who's coworker claimed she did not look like the typical athlete, "What does a typical athlete look like?"

I looked around and saw women who were old, young, tall, short, muscular, skinny and, yes, even big.  Some of the women ran fast, some (like me) ran slow.  But we all finished.  We all trained. And I would say we are all athletes.

My words on that wall were "To finish what I started!  First 1/2 at 45 w/ RA.  It won't stop me!"

Maybe the best words to sum it all up would be "It's not how fast you finish...It's that you DO finish!