Thoughts before the Tenth

Hard to believe that in less than a week, on the third anniversary of my first, I will run my tenth half marathon in Richmond, Virginia.

This morning I ran my last LSD before the race and it was a beautiful, sun-dappled experience. With Daylight Savings Time ending, I was up with the sun (as were the cats) and ready to go. I went through City of Goldsboro again, admiring the homes and yards in fall, feeling my cheeks pink up with the cold.

I thought a lot about has much has changed over the past three years - especially with regards to my running.

I'm not even sure I ran a LSD the weekend before my first half marathon. My training was extremely spotty that fall. I know I went into that first race in Richmond having never ran more than 10 miles at a single go. And I remember being in a lot of pain both during and after running. I remember a lot of frustration. In retrospect, I came into racing a bit unwillingly. Running had always been a mental and physical release for me. If I got it from running two miles, great. I needed four? Okay. James and Margaret were both more driven by competition. But I found that racing different courses, seeing different things, being a part of something with a bunch of other folks, now that was fun.

I remember how nervous I was; my shin had been giving me a lot of problems (in retrospect, my "training" was a recipe for a shin-splint disaster). I remember watching one runner roll his ankle not even a mile in and another drop his iPod. I remember James having to stop and pee around Mile 3 and him telling me to go on, he would catch up; then, when he did, telling me how many other girls with black capris, long-sleeved white tech shirts, and ponytails there were in the sea of runners.

I remember running through the park around miles 6-9, the unexpected hills and extremely slanted pavement. And I remember Mile 10 and the slow death shuffle that my running became during that last 5K.

I remember the way my body revolted after the race. I couldn't eat. Couldn't nap. My legs, my stomach, my head all felt like lead. 

It's hard to believe now that running 10+ miles on a Sunday morning - rain or shine, hot or cold - is the thing that I look forward to most in my week.

It's taken until this year, 2012, to really feel that way. I've kind of come full circle, too. LSD runs are a balm for my weary soul. If I can just get my feet moving, I know that the rest of my run, my day, will be better.