Eleven mile run completed today. Whoop.
During the run, I made the 5.5 mile turnaround, and saw a dad and son running towards me. I seem to remember seeing them last week. The remarkable thing about these two guys: they were both very heavy, big dudes. The dad was pushing 350, and the son, probably hovering in the high 200s. They were shuffling, just like me (heavy, big gal).
“Good morning,” I shouted as they approached. The dad and son smiled, and as we passed each other the dad said, “What are you training for?”
I turned and screamed, “A Half-Iron! What about you?”
He craned his neck back towards me, and shouted, “A marathon, with my boy here! December!”
And just like that, we had shuffled past each other, going our own ways.
Once again, I found myself a big fat sissy. Crying and running.
Two things about that little exchange brought me to tears. Oh, I’m such a cry baby. After I passed them, I welled up and then made ugly, scrunchy cry face.
The father/son pair were big people, and I am no stranger to big people. And they were out there together making it happen, shuffling along, just like I was doing. To see people vocalizing their crazy dreams is wonderful, and affirming. People who are big, and dream big.
The second remarkable thing: when I shouted back to them that I was training for a Half-Iron. I have said that a few times out loud. But to literally scream it across a trail, to strangers, felt amazing. “HALF-IRON!”
Those two things made me cry like a big fat sissy. Again. I’m okay with that.
So yes, today’s run was another milestone. Longest I have ever traveled on foot! Took me about 2:22:00….
slower than my 10 miles (what? is a 12:50 pace slow? ha!).
Was back out at Silver Comet early this morning, at approximately dark thirty, to knock it out. The Expert had his run today too, so I had to get back early to relieve him from kid duty.
I started off really feeling good. The morning was quiet, and hot, but beautiful.
The first seven miles were fabulous. But really, I think the trick – I was able to go to another place while I was running – I hear that’s part of the big deal – to be able to go to a place and stay there, without thinking about the physical motion, the pain, the heat. I wasn’t
floating above my body in a runner’s coma either, like last week, this was different.
My heartrate stayed in high Zone 2, maybe a few Zone 3 moments. To me, that signifies so much growth. I used to hit the treadmill and shoot up to 165; now, I can run 11 miles at 142. That in itself is amazing.
Also, the mental growth. I passed my 7.2 mile marker and said to myself, “Whew, only 3.8 miles to go.” I can’t ever remember thinking of “only 3.8 miles to go” as being a reasonable, good thing.
It’s the small victories that I try to remember. Oh, and after the 11 miles, I went to Lifetime Fitness and threw down a 1.5 mile swim. Mind you, I am not bragging. I am notating. Notating the fact that when this journey started, I could not run a mile without stopping, nor could I swim 25 meters without a sense of drowning. And that was less than a year ago.
Growth is an amazing thing.
Coach Monster called me after the run and the swim, and he said, “Hey, am I speaking to the woman who just ran 11 miles?”
Oh yeah, “Speaking!” I said.
Then he said, “I remember when we started this gig, you said, ‘
I can’t run 3 miles.’ Well, Missy, look at you now.”
Growth is an amazing thing.
And it’s the truth. I may still be fat, but I am a fat girl who can run 11 miles. And with shockingly bright shoes (I clicked my heels together, and I was in Oz). Boo yow.
I'm a big fat sissy too!..and a hugger. And NO 12:50 is not slow (in my mind). Just keep swimming…and biking…and running. I'm cheering, crying & hugging right along with you.
From one big athlete to another (though technically, you are no longer a "big gal" so sorry, you need to cut up your membership card) I just want to say that you rock.
Also, it's nice to hear that someone else is as smooshy as me. One day I was cycling up a BITCH of a hill, bright pink from the effort, sweating like a pig, and from behind me two actual real cyclists come flying past. I notice it's two men, my age, both clearly cyclists (big legs, tons of spandex, tri bikes)…Usually in this situation they grumble about being on my left or possibly complain about my wide butt taking up too much space on the road. But instead, one said to me "wow girl, keep it up, you're rocking it!" and it just about killed me DEAD right there on the road. Goosebumps and grins, I managed to make to to the top of the hill before having my big weepy snotfest. It was just such a wonderful thing to say and so heartfelt, and in a city like LA when people are as likely insult you and throw things at you as they are to be nice….well, the niceness was lovely. That guy will never know how much those few words meant to me!
SMOOSHY! 🙂
Awww…. thank you, girls… I love smooshy sissies 🙂
Love it!
I have run 4 marathons now…but started slow and deliberate when I was 38 years old and after 3 kids!
Keep up the great work!
I enjoy reading your posts and often find my self in tears because of them. I am a big girl learning to be a triathlete…it's hard sometimes. It's good to know that I am not the only one and that it gets easier as time goes on. I started training in early June…couldn't swim one length of the pool without nearly drowning. Now, when I finish 800m I am ready to keep going. 🙂
Thanks for sharing your journey.
Oh…and I cry all the time! I'm such a softy.
WELL DONE! I did my first 10k race this spring, and my first sprint-triathlon in May. I cried while running so many times because I was DOING IT, this thing I thought was impossible. Keep running, lady. You are inspiring so many people!
Uh, super impressive workout! I am also part of the cult of making the impossible possible. I started training last year and yes, it's amazing how 3 miles is 'just a short run' now!