I love my family. I grew up with an older brother and sister and two younger sisters, both my parents were supportive through my life and allowed me to pursue an educational path that they didn't love.
I'm very thankful for having people like that in my life and I often wonder what would happen if I didn't. Where would I be? Would I have the same confidence when jumping into the great unknown? I'm not sure that I would.
While running is an individual sport, there is always a team in the background. Someone with your drop bag or someone waiting for you at the finish line.
At my first marathon my boyfriend came too. He drove me there, held my things, took my picture, met me at the end, and drove me home. But I was out there alone for five hours (including check in time). Parking was atrocious so I just had to jump out of the moving car when we got close to the start. The second I shut that car door it sunk in.
I was alone.
I didn't have my phone or anyway to contact someone I knew. I was by myself and while it was terrifying, it was also exhilarating.
I immediately had to do what I was trained to do. Rely on myself. I found my way to the start, stood in my place, did some stretches and tried not to think about my family or friends, I wanted to focus. I thought about the 26.2 and how I had it broken down in my head and what my game plan was. I thought about when to take Gatorade and when to take water, everything was on me and on the race.
But once I crossed the start line my entire plan faded, and all I could think of was who I wished I could share this experience with. I thought about my parents. I wished they could be there with me. I thought about my friends and all the messages they had sent supporting me.
I thought about the races I had run with him and the way he's pushed me to be a better person. I thought about how he stood by me when I decided I no longer wanted to be a collegiate runner and how he motivated me to continue training even when it was extremely difficult.
I trained by myself, and so I thought I was prepared to race by myself. In fact I never doubted the idea of running this marathon alone. Any time I told someone I was running it they would always ask me who I was running it with and when I told them it was solo they always got a faint look of shock and horror. Like I was crazy for doing it, but I didn't feel crazy, I felt ready.
Despite my race day doubts I truly thought that my legs were strong enough and that my cardio was strong enough and that I had the stamina to succeed. But my legs cramped at mile 18, my cardio was weak at mile 20, and my stamina was worn out with 5 miles left in the race.
But I never stopped. And I never walked. Because I never stopped thinking about who mattered most to me and who had helped me get to where I was. My body didn't carry me through that race, my foundation did.
I run to find my limit, but as long as I have my foundation, I'm not sure I have a limit.
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