After our third miscarriage in September 2015, I decided I needed something to take my mind off all the grief that had accummulated. I tried hard to avoid facing that fact that we had experienced yet another miscarriage, so naturally I signed myself up for a marathon and mapped out a 5 month training schedule. I would literally and figuratively run away from my pain. I would train for something positive. I would show how disciplined I could be. And though I may not have had the best intentions when I initially signed up for the race, the 5 months of training and the race day changed my life.
I did not grow up being a stand-out athlete, or really an athlete at all. I tried soccer in 3rd grade and quit after a year. I played softball in middle school until I was told that I had to learn how to slide into bases; that was too scary for me so I quit. I played basketball on the C team in elementary and middle school and being aggressive was a foreign concept for me. By the time I got to high school, I was a cheerleader one year and then joined lacrosse my senior year. In college I chickened out at tryouts my freshman year for the KU lacrosse club team, but went back my sophomore year to join. I never saw myself as an athlete or as a runner – I played lacrosse for 2.5 years because of the friends I made and for something social/athletic to do. It wasn’t until one of my bestie (thanks Kim!) talked me into signing up for the WIN4KC all-female triathlon in 2009 that I began to push myself athletically. After seeing that I could swim-bike-run and not die, I had began to do 5Ks and ended up doing the WIN4KC tri for 4 years in a row. Then I worked my way up to half marathons. So I knew I had it in me to run a full marathon, but it wasn’t until experiencing several miscarriages that I finally found the courage to go for the 26.2 miles.
Throughout my marathon training, as my milage grew, I began to get scared. I couldn’t pinpoint where this fear was coming from but there was this nagging feeling when I thought about race day. I remember sharing this fear with my therapist and she asked me “what’s the worst thing that could happen?”. And then I thought, “well, the worst thing that could happen would be I don’t finish the race” and that didn’t sound like the most terrible thing in my life after already overcoming such loss and grief. My fear lifted and my confidence grew – I knew that if I could come out the other side of three miscarriages, I knew I could keep my body moving for at least 5 and 1/2 hours.
On April 10, 2016, I finished my first (and only) marathon in 5 hours 29 minutes, 1 minute under my goal time. As I inched my way up the hill towards the finish line, I was overcome with emotion. Tears began swelling in my eyes. I did it. I just finished 26.2 miles. I didn’t fall over. I didn’t die. I overcame. It was the most amazing feeling in the world. My husband, parents, cousins/bestie and friends from KC were there to congratulate me at the finish line and to celebrate with me. I had friends and colleagues texting me and posting their “congrats” on social media. I felt like I had conquered the world. It is, and will always be, one of my favorite days.
I say all of this in the hopes to inspire even just one person to sign up for a race, an event, a class, a project, anything that scares you, anything that you’ve always wanted to do. Turn your sadness, grief, stress, strife into something good for yourself. Use it to fuel yourself forward towards a seemingly unreachable goal. It is worth it. My motivation, my joy, my life got better through training and doing this race. I will admit that I struggled after the race for a few weeks – I felt as though I were grieving again. I was sad it was all over. All my hard work was over. But the reality was that I realized I had strength I never knew, I trusted my body (for once), and I pressed on, one mile a at time. And if I can run a marathon, you can too.
Pressing On 