Run Til You're Boared 50K Ultra Marathon- April 5, 2015

I know that I am still really far behind in blogging about races from this year... 9 races behind to be exact, but I had to jump forward to talk about my most recent race. Look at the title of this post... that's not a typo. It *is* supposed to say 50K... also known as just over 31 miles... also known as absolutely insane! I wanted to blog about it while the memories are still fresh, so here goes...

***

If someone had told me at the beginning of the year that I would be an ultra marathoner, I would have accused them of being into some fairly serious drugs. I've only been running for 4 years, and my first half marathon was in January of 2012. I attempted to train for my first marathon which was scheduled for January 2013, but I gave up after chronic injuries left me in constant pain.

When I backed out of my marathon experience, I realized that I really wasn't all that sad. When I stopped to think about it, I realized that I didn't really want to be a marathoner. Sure, it would have been nice to put in the training and get it done, but I wasn't doing it because I wanted to do it, but rather because it felt like the only logical step after completing countless half marathons already.

I'm a back of the packer.  I have asthma. I'm overweight. I struggle with foot issues. Sure, I wanted to take my running to the next level while overcoming great obstacles, but deep down, I knew that marathoning wasn't for me. Friends would ask me all the time when I planned to take that leap, but after that failed attempt at training for a marathon, the answer was always the same: I just don't want to. Maybe you want to, but I don't.

And then something crazy happened.

I spent the weekend at a race with my dear friend Mel, and he paced me through a 15k, a 5k and a half marathon. And he kept talking about this crazy event he would be doing on Easter Sunday in Jacksonville: a 50K Ultra Trail race calledthe Run Til You're Boared. I thought he was insane, but I wanted to check out the website. He told me repeatedly that this was the perfect race for me to take my running up a notch without the pressure that is normally associated with a full marathon.

But I was so untrained...

By the time my interest was piqued enough to pull the trigger on registration and get airfare to Jacksonville, I only had 5 weeks to train. And training wouldn't be easy. I had never logged over 14 miles at a time, and never logged over 18 miles in a day... somehow I had to get my head around how this was all going to work. I messaged Bobby Green (the race director) a few times to ask about terrain, I talked to a couple of established ultra runners for their advice, and I told a couple of very select friends. I was afraid that if I told everyone before the event, that they would think I was a failure if I didn't cross the finish-line.

On the day of the race, crossing the finish-line seemed like the easiest thing in the world. The real struggle for me was crossing the start-line. From the moment we pulled into the park, I was nauseous and overcome with an intense feeling of dread. 10 seconds before the start of the race I burst into tears and started to hyperventilate. But my friend Mel was right there by my side, as were other veteran ultra runners who turned to me and gave me encouraging smiles and words.

Even after the gun went off and we started our VERY long day of running, the attitude of other runners never changed. People were absolutely exhausted, some were downright miserable in their own socks and shoes, but they were each out there doing their own version of epicness... and they were supportive of each and everyone else on the course.

We were taking liberal bathroom breaks, breaks to change and refuel, and enjoying the opportunity to be in such a gorgeous setting, and this reflected in our time. For the most part, the course was fairly straightforward. 5 loops of 6.2 miles, all relatively flat, mostly in dirt roads through the wildlife preserve. But there were a few tricky areas of the course where we were routed through burn-breaks (where the course significantly narrowed and the footing was through deep loosely packed dirt and sand).

But although the course was tricky at times, the support more than made up for it. There were 3 aid stations on the course, and the race director did an excellent job of anticipating everyone's needs. My stomach was so upset during the race that I had to survive almost entirely off of pepsi (for sugar) and pickle juice (for salt), but there were options for both vegetarians and carnivores alike... with food ranging from gummy bears and marshmallow peeps, to bananas and oranges, to pb&j and bacon. Because the field of runners was so small, the volunteers at the aid station quickly learned what each runner preferred and made certain that it was immediately available to them when they came through. In retrospect, the only thing that I think the aid stations should have had at the very front of their tables was sunscreen... the weather was perfect, but it was overcast... so although I applied sunscreen, it clearly wasn't enough... note to self: next time be more careful.

Anyway, There were a few moments where I worried that I wouldn't be able to finish the race in the prescribed 10 hour time limit, but not once did I allow my mind to go to the negative side of questioning whether a finish was possible or not. Which I think leads me to the most important revelation of the day...

Anything is possible with the right attitude and mindset.

With an eye on the finish, you can do anything you put your mind to... as long as you really put your mind to it, failure is not an option. Barring any unforeseen injuries (which are always possible), your mind gives out long before your body ever will. If you enter a situation with the right attitude, the power of positive thinking will get you far. This is obviously not just a lesson for running, but sometimes it takes a crazy experience like an ultra to bring something like this into perspective.

At the end of the day, I was the last finisher with a time of 9:44:16. Not bad, all things considered. Age awards are 5 deep in ultras, and my time also qualified me as having achieved 4th place in my age division. I still can't believe that I did it! 

My name is Amy, and I'm an ultra runner!

I think the best way to really understand what this event was all about is to watch a video or two. Here are a couple of videos that my friend Mel took while we were out there... if you had to watch just one, I might suggest the last video which shows us coming into the finish line and all the excitement that went into it:

RTYB 50k 3rd loop video
Posted by Mel Abando on Monday, April 6, 2015

RTYB 50K 4th loop video
Posted by Mel Abando on Monday, April 6, 2015

RTYB 50k 5th and last loop video 2 - Finish line
Posted by Mel Abando on Monday, April 6, 2015

The Marathon that didn't happen

If we are being honest here, something that I really try to do in my blog, I have to admit that while I was devastated to have missed the full marathon at Disney this past weekend, I was also somewhat relieved to be spectating instead of participating.

I talked a good game, and talked myself into thinking that I wanted to run a marathon when a few friends were kicking around the idea last spring. I think at the time, I only signed us up as a challenge to myself... almost like if they can do it, I can surely do it.

And having done some serious running this year there was no doubt in my mind that I probably could have finished my training for the marathon and completed it, even if it meant crawling across the finish-line.

But we had a falling out with those friends. And because I still hadn't been entirely sold on the idea that I actually wanted to run this race, I convinced some other friends to sign up and run it with me. But October rolled around, and as much as I wanted to convince myself that I actually wanted to do the race, I was still teetering on having full out dread and panic.

Of course I was going to do it... but I realized that I didn't really want to. The only reason that I kept training and kept pushing myself was because I thought if I worked hard enough at it, I would convince myself that I really wanted to do this and it would make me happy.

But seriously... 26.2 miles is a long way to travel on foot. Sometimes I struggle to get into the zone for a 5 mile run... I know what 16 miles can feel like. And through all that positive self-talk, I still wasn't convinced. But I made commitments to other people, and commitments to myself... and I would move forward and finish what I started.

But then my injury got worse, and I was put into a bigger boot, and I had some shots, and even standing on my foot was completely verboten for 3 weeks in there... Logically speaking, I knew the Dr. would tell me that the marathon was out. But hearing confirm what I already knew made my have a near breakdown in the exam room.

And I was crying over not being able to do a race that I not only didn't want to do, but that I never really wanted to do in the first place. And I was so confused. So. Damn. Confused.

But then, because we had made a commitment to split hotel costs with our friends who were also running the race, we went to spectate the event instead. I knew it was going to be emotional. And I posted facebook about my sadness at not actually being able to participate, and I got similar responses.

There will be other Marathons.

You can always do it next year.

And while, yes, these people are right... I never really wanted to do the race in the first place. And so as I was watching many of my friends from near and far pass by us while we were spectating... and in between my own self-indulgent fits of turning away to sob uncontrollably... I realized that these marathoners are amazing athletes, who I admire and respect, but who I will probably never join the ranks of.

Not because I can't. But because I don't really want to.

Which brings me to my final moment of complete cognitive dissonance... Not 10 minutes after realizing all of these things about myself we met up with our friends who had just finished and saw how incredibly exhausted they were and congratulated them on their respective (and respectable) finished... and I thought to myself...

Hey Amy, there's always next year

... if you want to.

Disney's Glass Slipper Challenge

After last year's half marathon experience, I had said that I would never run another long distance race at Disney... but then I went back on my vow and chose to register for the 2014 WDW Marathon.

Part of my decision to register for the WDW Marathon was because I wanted to see if I actually could run 26.2 miles (in a row), and I knew that doing it at Disney would allow me hard corrals which would allow me a little extra time if I started toward the front of the corrals.

The other part of my decision came from the sheer joy of spending uninterrupted quality time with my dear friend Brina.

When I suggested running the marathon, Brina really didn't seem all that interested. She had run a marathon before, and hadn't overly enjoyed the experience (because she ran by herself?). But she liked the idea of having a friend to share the experience with if she did it again. It didn't take much arm twisting, and eventually I convinced her that she wanted to do it with me, and we registered.

The half-serious (but not quite joking) agreement that we made was that she would do the marathon (that she claimed that she didn't want to do, but I believe she was only half-serious about not having interest in), but in exchange, I would register for a race that I wasn't all too keen on, if she really wanted to do it.

But then I started half joking about doing the Center of the Nation series (and adding the Montana Half Marathon to it for a total of 6 half marathons in 6 days), and somehow I sort of wound up roping her into doing those races as well. And while I would never force her into doing races that she didn't want to do, it becomes very clear that when it comes to choosing the events we participate in together... I seem to be the bad influence (always picking ridiculous goals and pushing for more and more).

Brina is perfect Princess, meaning she has run the Disney Princess Half every year since it was introduced. I knew she wanted to run the Princess half marathon all along, and we had planned for me to join her. But about a month ago, Run Disney announced that in addition to their family 5K and the half, they were going to add in a 10K race and create a 2 race challenge called the Glass Slipper Challenge, where runners would tackle 10K on day 1 and the half marathon on day 2... for a total of 19.3 miles at Disney (and 3 medals).

Of course it sounds crazy.

Not quite as crazy as 78.6 miles in 6 days, but still pretty crazy.

So of course we are in.

Today, the Disney Princess race registration becomes available to the general public. Being an annual pass holder allowed me early registration last week, and because we were both afraid that the Glass Slipper would sell out early, Brina and I jumped at the opportunity to register.

It is going to be crowded. Probably much more crowded than I would normally like, but I'll get a girls weekend out of the deal... and I'll get to represent my favorite Disney princess.

Yep, that's right. When you register, you choose your favorite Disney princess, and her likeness is printed on your bib.

Now I'll just have to come up with a cute costume to represent her.

The point two will getcha?

It feels strange to go back to my previously scheduled blogging when my heart and mind is still trying to get a wrap around what happened in Boston last week. My mind doesn't want to move on... But I know I need to. Because not moving on will only allow me to become stunted by the pain.

So today, while my heart is still with Boston, I keep going with my life. Because the perpetrators (so far) took 4 lives last week, I cannot allow my heart and soul to be added to the death toll.

Today, I write about something I hadn't intended to write about for another few weeks. And that is the secret I have been keeping close to my chest.

Let me start by saying that I don't like secrets. I think that has to do with my dislike for general anticipation.
 
I don't like it when people keep secrets from me because I feel like I am being left out. And I don't like it when people plan surprises for me (but tease me before hand about having a surprise for me).

I also don't like keeping secrets from other people, and I hate surprising others too.

That doesn't mean that if someone tells me something in confidence that I wont keep that confidence for them, because I tend to be really good at that. I don't know if it is just semantics, but somewhere in my brain I have made a distinction between confidences and secrets, and it is the latter that I have a hard time with.

Needless to say, I've been sitting on a secret for a number of weeks now.

And it. Is. Killing. Me.

KILLING ME!

The secret is...

That in January of 2014, after reaching my goal of 13 half marathons in 2013, I plan to run a full marathon.

I hesitate to say my first marathon because that implies that there will be a second, but it will be the first time that I will run a marathon. But I've hesitated to even say anything about it until now because I'm afraid.

I think when it comes to doing new things like this, I might be a bit of a commitment-phobe.

Because when you publicly announce that you are going to do something outside of your comfort zone (like train to run 26.2 miles in a row), people can then hold you accountable. If you put it out there for the rest of the world, you have to follow through. And yikes, that's scary.

That's 26.2 miles.

I decided, because it was Disney marathon weekend that got me interested in running in the first place, and my first half marathon was at Disney, what better a place to run the longest race I've ever attempted?

Photo courtesy of Karen Orozco*

Now, I know I complained a lot after my Disney half in January about them having too many entrants, and about how less-than-friendly the other runners were, and how I had really expected more from a race being put on by The Happiest Place on Earth, but there are also some benefits to running at Disney, that can make my marathon experience a good one.

For starters, because they don't start the 16 minute per mile requirement until the last person crosses the start line, if I am further up in my corral, I would have a little extra time to finish. Because there are so many corrals  and they wait 7 minutes between corrals to start, this also means an additional time buffer for someone like me, who has a naturally slow pace. Granted, this may change as RunDisney announced some changes on their blog recently about having fewer entrants and the possibility of adding corrals with smaller fields, but for now, I feel fairly confident that I can train hard for this race, then participate without getting swept.

And I'll keep my fingers crossed.

As of right now, the longest distance I've ever run at a time is 14 miles. That means that I will be adding an additional 12.2 miles to that distance. I anticipate that it will take me approximately 6 and a half or 7 hours to finish... but the time isn't really that important.

Of course I say that the time isn't all that important now, but I'm sure that will change in the coming months as the reality sets in that I am actually going to do this.

Thankfully, unlike my experience at the Disney Half this past year, I will not be running this event entirely on my own. My awesome running partner Brina has graciously offered to run the marathon with me, to help keep me on pace and motivated. 6-7 hours on my own might be a little rough. But it seems all the more doable with a friend.




*A special thanks to Karen Orozco at Losing the Glass Slippers for allowing me to use her photo. Karen is currently training for her first half marathon at Disney's Princess Half in February 2014. Keep working hard Karen, you can do it!

Bombs at the Boston Marathon

In less than 36 hours I will be boarding a plane to attend a conference on hate studies. While there, I will be sitting as an "expert" panelist (with four of my amazing colleagues), presenting a paper which we wrote about the ins and outs of why terrorism works.

Right now, I am sitting in my living room, completely unable to pull myself away from the news... clearly I am going into media overload, constantly being bombarded by the images from the explosions that happened less than 5 hours ago at the finish line at the Boston Marathon. These explosions haven't officially been classified as a terrorist act, and my verdict is still out because we don't really have enough evidence yet to determine whether there were ideological or political motives behind the attack. I feel in my heart that it will be classified as terrorism (domestic or international), but that is neither here, nor there.

I guess I just needed an outlet to get my feelings out there, and that is why I am writing tonight.

And those feelings are: that I'm not handling this well. My worlds are colliding.

I look at terrorism day and night. I analyze it from a million different perspectives. And over time, that shit just gets into my brain.

I run as an escape. I run to get away from the terrorism and the pain I look at day in, and day out. I run to process and stay sane when faced with hatred, and bombs, and war, and fighting.

As a New Englander (and we all know that New Englanders are honorary Bostonians), I grew up seeing the coverage of the Boston Marathon. Even as a young child, before I had even put on a pair of running shoes, I knew about Patriot Day, and the importance of the Marathon to the local community.

As an adult, I recognize that I could never run the Boston Marathon. I'm not fast enough to qualify. I'm not strong enough for the hills. I'd love that opportunity, but it is so hard to get in... I'd hate to take the space away from the runners who are fast enough and strong enough.

Besides, I've never run more than 14 miles at a time.

But what I have run is a number of half marathons.

The distance between the second bomb blast and the finish line was just over a tenth of a mile. And having run 13.1 miles, I can tell you that when you enter that final stretch, you are running off of pure adrenaline and endorphins. You are absolutely exhausted and excited at the same time.

So to watch these video clips and hear stories of not only first responders and law enforcement, but ALSO RUNNERS jumping into the fray to break down the barricades and apply tourniquets, it brings tears to my eyes and a lump to my throat.

In the past, I have been really hesitant to call myself a runner.

Today, I know I am a runner. And an event that 27,000 of my friends whom I haven't yet met were attacked, in a city that might as well have been my own.

Today, I have a heavy heart.

Walt Disney World Half - January 12, 2012

I thought about titling this post "Amy's First Half Marathon."

And then thought that using "Amy put biofreeze where?!?!?!" as a title may be more apropos.

But regardless of what I've titled this post, it will be both about my first half marathon experience, and how my brain doesn't seem to want to work after running for (literally) hours on end.

Grab some popcorn, this is going to be a long entry...

The months leading up to Disney's half marathon had gone fairly uneventfully. I had followed the Galloway training plan,  and much to my surprise, it wasn't as grueling as I had thought it would be.

In November-ish, I ran a 9 mile training run and it went well for the first 8 miles but my energy petered out after that, leaving me thinking I would never be able to increase my distance. During my 11 mile training run, the first 9 miles were relatively easy, but the last 2 miles left me completely spent, thinking I would never be able to increase my distance. In my 12.5 mile training run, the first 11 went fairly well, but I had to push myself so hard to just finish the last 1.5 miles that I was left thinking I would never be able to increase my distance. Do we see a pattern here?

During my 14 mile training run on Christmas Eve morning, I was able to reach 13 miles fairly easily but then (trying to force myself into overdrive) I pulled a groin muscle and hobbled the last mile home. Had this been the actual half marathon, that last 0.1 woulda got me.

But thankfully It was only a training run, and I had a couple of weeks of taper before my half marathon where I could let my body rest and relax (rest and relax being subjective here as I somehow managed to perforate both eardrums, then rupture one of them, then get incredibly congested with a headcold, leaving me well outside of the definition of being in tip-top condition, but I digress).

Disney Marathon Weekend was a weekend long trip, despite the fact that we were only running the half marathon on Saturday. The week leading up to leaving, when my balance wasn't off and I could spend more than 2 minutes vertical, I packed and allowed myself to get excited. On Thursday night, before heading to bed, I read my new issue of Runner's World Magazine, and was excited to read a story written by veteran runner Marc Parent about his first half marathon experience ("Oh my God- I just ran a half-marathon"). I would recommend this article to anyone about to run their first half marathon, and took pride in the fact that I was about to undertake a feat that many veteran runners have yet to do. *That* was both exciting and terrifying at the same time.

Friday before the half marathon, Ray and I drove with our friends Kevin and David to Orlando where we checked into the All Star Sports Resort and then went to the ESPN Wide World of Sports to pick up our packets. Having worked the expo before, I knew it would be crowded, but I was still really intimidated by the sheer volume of people there. 

Then we went off to Epcot, had an early dinner and it was back to the hotel and to our room by 8pm for a good nights rest. Only I was like that little kid in the Disney commercial who was too excited to sleep. I took some sleep aid, and some DM strength cold medication, but still, I tossed and turned. 

Before I knew it, our alarm was going off at 3:00 am. Yikes. It wasn't too long ago when I used to go to bed at 3am (or frequently later), and now here I was getting up and lacing some shoes to go run at 3am?!?!?

Well that's not true. We had to wake up at 3:00 am and have our laces tied by about 3:20 to be out the door and on the shuttle bus over to Epcot at 3:30 for the 5:30 gun that started the race. Ray and I both started in corral G, so we didn't actually start till just after 6:00 am, but that didn't actually change the time we had to be at the corrals. Let's just say it was Zero dark 30 by the time we got to the bag check area and they opened it up so everyone could then walk the 15 minutes to the start line. To wait. And wait. And wait some more.

Me and Ray before the race

And then it was finally time for our wave to go. And I was anxious. And jittery. And nauseous. And nervous. And full of self doubt. And I really had to pee. But there was no time. Before I could figure out where the nearest port-o-potty was, it was time for our wave to go. And we ran. Ray and I had an agreement that (because he runs a much faster pace than me) he would run at his own pace and I would stay behind, running my own race. But the excitement of the crowd got to me, and I started off WAY faster than I had intended. Normally, where Ray would pull away from me after the first 0.1 mile, I stayed right on his shoes until I could see the first mile marker. Veteran runners will tell you to be careful about the crowd pumping you up too much and starting too fast. But I didn't think that would happen to me. Little did I know, right?

So I started too fast. I ran my first 3 miles at about 14:50 per mile (which to me is WAY too fast, but please don't be rude about how this is still slower than your pet snail), and my energy was burning out fast. It was also really hot. I also hadnt slept much the night before. I was also alone, running with a crowd that was less-than friendly. 

I guess I figured because Disney bills itself as the happiest place on earth, that the 35,000 people who were running alongside me might also have been happy as well. Or at least friendly. I had people bump into me and jostle me with complete disregard, I had multiple groups of walkers refuse to give right of way even though I was going faster than they were, I had groups force me off the road, I heard people just be outright nasty to one another. 

Running isn't a pretty sport, but one thing I had hoped to really feel was that sense of camaraderie that runners always talk about during races. I got very little of that, so little in fact that if I was gauging all half marathon experiences by this one, I probably never would have run another half marathon at all (but I'm getting ahead of myself in the story). The reality of my thought process at the time was that I was in the middle of a huge crowd that never seemed to spread out much, and I felt completely and utterly alone.

People run Disney for any number of reasons. And everyone has a different expectation of what this experience is like. For me, while I knew that the majority of the race is actually outside of the parks with only about a mile through Magic Kingdom and about another half mile at the end through Epcot, I guess it never really occurred to me that the majority of this race would be on the really boring access roads with little scenery to occupy my time. Runners don't even reach Magic Kingdom until around mile 6, so that whole first half of the race is somewhat boring visually.

But then all at once, you round a corner and you are running down mainstreet Magic Kingdom toward Cinderella's Castle. And suddenly the race meets all of your expectations. I was starting to have some nagging achiness in the groin muscle I had pulled the day before Christmas, but how can you not get excited when you are suddenly running through the happiest place on earth with thousands of excited people cheering you on?

Then I rounded the corner into Tomorrow Land and the crowd seemed to spread out a little, but then (without spectators cheering me on), I was really hating the world. I hated my music selection, I hated my shoes. I hated Ray for leaving me behind. I hated my groin pain. I hated my friend Shannon for getting me motivated with this running thing in the first place. And thinking of a video that I had watched the week before about what a guy thought about during his marathons, I hated musicians Carlos Santana & Rob Thomas. And I hadn't even hit 7 miles yet! 

(edited to clarify that I didn't really hate Ray, Shannon, Carlos Santana or Rob Thomas. I really love all of them, but I was in a bad place and lashing out with my anger. I'm sorry to you all.)

After running through Cinderellas castle and out a back exit of Magic Kingdom, we were on access roads again. It was then that I learned that without visual stimulation, I got very bored. Whereas, normally on a training run, I could put my earphones in and go off into la-la land and work out any difficulties that I might be having in my personal life, at Disney I was completely unable to do this. Because I had to constantly be on the lookout for someone running me off the road of elbowing me, I never got to that place deep inside myself. And because I never got there, I was beginning to obsess about the things that were wrong. About how awful I felt. About that increasing groin pain. About how I was quickly losing my pace and falling further and further behind.

And then my mind stopped working altogether. My groin hurt really badly, and desperately wanting it to stop, my (broken)mind decided that it was a muscle pull just like other muscle pulls, and could be treated as such. So passing a medical tent around mile marker 8, I put my right hand out and took a couple of pumps of biofreeze. Without even questioning it, I pulled my pants open with my left hand and jammed my right hand down my pants to apply the gel to the inside crease of my right leg. I knew there was menthol in biofreeze, but I was careful to not get it anywhere near my panties or my nether bits.

Look at all those people still behind me!

Fat chance! The first few minutes after I applied the biofreeze, I felt fairly good. But it was all downhill from there. It didn't take long for the moisture in my clothing to pick up the menthol in the biofreeze and deposit it directly where I really didn't want it. For the next 4-5 miles, my lady bits were completely on fire. I was able to smile for the cameras and take joy in the fact that there were still thousands of people behind me when I glanced over my shoulder at the top of a ramp, but I started having visions of crossing the finishline and pouring water and baking soda down my pants. At mile 9, I quit my running intervals and chose to walk straight through.

And just like that, I was entering into Epcot parking lot and into the last 1.1 miles of the race. I was wiped. It took everything out of me. I was dehydrated. And exhausted. My groin hurt. My underwear felt as if I had crushed habanero peppers into it. I was passed in the last mile by an elderly speedwalker using a tri-wheeled walker (true story). But I finished.

I did it!

I was slower than I had anticipated. But I finished.

Then I went to the medical tend, poured water down my pants and had my groin area packed with ice.

Note to self: Biofreeze doesn't belong ANYWHERE near there.


Chip time - 3:35:28
Pace - 16:14 per mile
5K - 46:12
10K - 1:36:06
15K - 2:30.15
OA - 21774 / 43126
Div - 12145 / 13128

Where it all started...

I was a sickly child. So sick that I couldn't keep up with my peers. In grade-school PE classes they made us do the presidential fitness tests, and I can remember trying to do them in 2^nd or 3^rd grade but by the time I was in 4^th grade, I couldn't participate at all. I struggled with ongoing respiratory problems throughout my early childhood, but was only diagnosed with debilitating allergies and asthma when I was in 5^th grade. The damage to my self-esteem was already done. I wasn't the most overweight child, but as the asthma and allergies got worse, and the dosages of oral steroids got higher and higher, I gained weight. I remember running the mile in 2^nd or 3^rd grade and having other children make fun of me. I was walking along at the end, huffing and puffing, and because it was taking so long, they just stopped the timer and scored me as an incomplete. That was the final time I attempted to do the run. Every year thereafter, I was excused.

That was around the same time I started going to a special summer camp designed for children with asthma. At this camp, I learned to manage my asthma, learn my triggers, and enjoy outside activities. But I also learned that things would be different for me.

I'd never keep up with the other kids. And I'd certainly never run.

It isn't like that was just an assumption that I made as a child. This was something I was told. I would go play with the other children, I would attempt to run around on the soccer field, I would trigger an asthma attack, and I would be with the medical staff for the next 5 hours where the pulmonary doctor (yes, there was a pulmonary doctor on staff at my summer camp) would tell me that I shouldn't be running, and could forget about ever really doing it again.

So I did. (Well that's not really true. I ran briefly in 2004 when I was at the law enforcement academy. But it was an awful experience and I was happy when it was over. So lets just say I was told to forget about running, and I did)

In my teens and 20s, I made some mistakes. I did things I shouldn't have. Of all stupid things, I smoked as a teenager and into my late 20s, quitting for significant periods of time, only to start again when life got really stressful. I don't need any lectures about how asthmatics shouldn't smoke. I already know it was a dumb thing to do, but for a long time, I was on a path of self-destruction. But that is neither here nor there... just know that I smoked for a long time, and it was dumb.

And I put on a lot of weight. For a period of time I was relatively thin. Then I met my husband and got happy and gained weight. Then I lost my job and got miserable and gained weight. Then I went back to school for my masters degree and it was like being a freshman in college again and gaining the freshman 15, but worse. Then I got too busy, and after getting my black belt in karate, I had to take a leave from martial arts to focus on school, and (surprise surprise) I gained weight. A Lot. Like 60+ lbs.

So my husband and I started Weight Watchers. And just like the commercials about weight loss, I lost a little weight, he lost a lot. And he got really active. He started spending a lot of time with our friend Shannon who was also trying to lose some weight, and they started running together. They started Couch to 5k. They invited me to come with them, but if there weren't monsters chasing me, I couldn't see a point. I vehemently refused.

And then they set a date to run a half marathon together with our friends Kevin, David, and Steve. And once again, it was something I couldn't do. They were all planning to run the Disney World Half in 2012 and I was jealous that they were doing a trip to Disney without me, so I found a way to include myself in the trip. I would go, and volunteer at the packet pickup, then on race day for the half marathon, and the following day for the full marathon... they would run. I would be there to support them and see them cross the finish line... I'd get a trip to Disney, and I'd earn complementary park passes. It seemed like a win/win.

Except it wasn't.

It was a great experience watching them all finish their half marathon (my husband's first!), but it was bitter sweet. I was incredibly proud of my friends and I was excited that they met their goal. But I was devastated at the same time. This monster green jealous streak spread through me faster than I could say supercalafragalisticexpialadocious, and I wanted to scream ANYTHING YOU CAN DO I CAN DO BETTER!

Me  wearing 5 layers of clothes, greeting my husband Ray, and friends Steve and Shannon at the finish

And about 20 minutes later, I came up with this (not-so) brilliant plan to do better than my husband, and plan to run the Goofy Challenge the next year.*

A half marathon is 13.1 miles. A full marathon is 26.2 miles. The Goofy Challenge is the Disney Marathon weekend challenge that combines a 13.1 Mile race on day 1 with a 26.2 Mile race on day 2 for a total of 39.3 miles.

Ray and Me after he finished his first half marathon

39.3 miles for the girl who:

• was carrying 60+ extra lbs,
• who couldn't walk to her car through a parking lot without getting winded,
• who was told she would NEVER run.
• Who didn't actually want to run.

Who the heck was I kidding?

Nobody will ever accuse me of not dreaming big. Little did i know that the first 0.1 mile will getcha.

*when the weekend was over and Ray and I returned to our normal lives, I reassessed and decided that perhaps pulling off a Goofy Challenge in 365 days was a bit far fetched. But perhaps I could pull off a half marathon in that time period. But first, I would need to get my butt off the couch.