“Every accomplishment starts with the decision to try”- NA
This says it all folks.
As soon as they blew the cannon (yes, in New Ulm Minnesota at a 5k the New Ulm Battery actually blew a cannon to signal the start of the race), I had a flood of weird feelings. Made up of extreme nervousness and anxiety, I was also filled with fear and doubt, so much doubt. From the minute I woke up that morning, I looked for every excuse to NOT run the race. But, the cannon blew, and there we went, one foot in front of the other.
So in all of my “training runs” of a mile or so, I blared music the entire time. For those of you who know me, you most likely also know what I mean when I say I blared my music, it’s all the way up people, every single time. I hoped that by drowning out my stomping feet and loud huffs of breath with music that left my ears ringing that maybe, just maybe I could get through another run.
Well, something in the air that day, or the other hundreds of bluetooth headphones trying to connect, didn’t allow me to blast my music throughout the race. I couldn’t even have music playing softly…it cut in and out for the first half mile, so I clung to the 3 words at a time that came through my headphones. After that I managed to hear a phrase or two throughout what seemed like once a mile, or maybe twice if I was lucky. IT SUCKED! I was so dependant on being semi-distracted by music, and now I didn’t have ANY and it was my FARTHEST RUN EVER!!!! Again, you can’t make this up people!!
Anyways, the first mile was as normal as all of my other miles have been; painful for the first three minutes and then plateaued a bit to feel half decent. The next half mile was a little more painful than the first, and I was feeling more out of breath each step I took, the mental toughness kicked in at about mile marker 1.5, also the halfway or close enough to halfway point of the race. I’ve come halfway, now I just have to do that all once more!
Here’s where it got tough for me, for the next mile, I was surrounded by people who were interval running, so I continually saw them take breaks from their running pace and slow to a walk-which is what I wanted to be doing SO BADLY. I vividly remember hitting the 2.5 miles sign and thinking “that’s it?! I’m only at 2.5?!”
The remaining .6 of a mile were the hardest, hands down. At this point I’ve already ran a half mile further than I ever have before, and I still have all of that to go plus a little extra. My legs were feeling very sore, also like tree trunks, heavy and swollen. My mental toughness was nearly disipated and all I wanted to do was quit.
Then we turned a corner and I could see the finish line. It was quite a long ways away yet, but I could see it. I knew I would be so mad at myself if I quit with ~.4 miles left.
So I didn’t quit.
As we rounded the final curve of the race, I could see my mom and sister running to the sidewalk next to the course. I was instantly overcome with a rush of emotions. I felt so extremely proud. So, so extremely proud. I was physically and mentally exhausted, but so damn happy and proud. in that last tenth of a mile as my mom snapped pictures and awkwardly jumped/ran along the sidewalk with us, I couldn’t help but cry. Tears of joy streamed over my beet red, smiling cheekbones and into my dehydrated mouth. It was amazing and painful all at the same time.
I crossed the finish line. I did it. And holy crap, I was so damn happy I did.
I also felt like falling over and never getting up again lol, but I did it.
Josie's Journey 