As promised not all of my literary dwellings will be based on my sexual inhibitions both past and present. I want to take some time to really evaluate, and pat myself on the back for running away from my problems, and right over the half marathon finish line. This all started as I was making my new years resolutions. I have been telling myself since the day I stopped being a size 4 in 2015 that I was going to start running again because I know it is the most effective source of exercise for my body. I had always been a treadmill runner, but that was a private excursion that gave a lot of leeway to me to take the easy way out, and it didn't come with a lot of structure (something I desperately needed). Thus, birthed the goal of running a half marathon.
I was pretty gung-ho when I first started telling people I was going to run the race. Why it didn't occur to me to start with a 10k or something a little less far fetched I will never know, but in true Caitlin fashion I had to "go big or go home". Let me tell you, that's what I did. I went home, A LOT. I went home covered in sweat, or freezing on 30 degree days. I went home with shin splints, hip and groin pain, swollen hands and ankles, and clicking in my knees and shoulders. Then, it got a little easier, and I got a little faster (not a lot faster, but lets say a smidgen). Then, I went home, and got a new home, and my training lacked and I sat down and asked myself why I was doing this, and what I was going to do to not put my body at risk. People congratulated me prematurely, and told me how they could never run such lengths in comparison, but knowing how badly I was hurting, and how much weight I wasn't losing I felt like a fraud. The only thing that kept telling me that I was really doing this was the radiating pain I was constantly in, the accountability posts on social media, and the fact that I was ravenously hungry.
After doing some research (which would have been a better idea before I started) I learned a lot of consistent runners fear training for longer marathon races because of how hungry they get, and how it often leads to weight gain. So putting my body to its limits, and jumping right into a type of training I hadn't seen in almost 5 years brought me to my sores, and heaviest weight I had ever seen. At 5'3 and almost 220 pounds I knew that I was going about this the wrong way, and something had to give before I gave up.
I resorted back to my old friend the treadmill, and the lack of pounding erased my swelling and actually took 3 minutes off of my mile really quickly. I learned that I can run faster, and harder for shorter distances, and I was doing something that I hadn't been doing trying to self motivate through 10 miles outside, I was running. Not only was I running, but I felt good, and my body was responding the way I had hoped it would from the beginning. I was 8 weeks into my 11 week training, and had just figured out for the first time where my groove was. It wasn't until I stopped posting accountability posts for others to decide that I had run fast enough, or long enough that I finally started listening to my body, and remembered why I did this in the first place.
There was a huge portion of my training that I was angry with myself for not losing the 40 pounds I had set out to lose. My mental consumption with this having been for weight loss, and to look a certain way with my clothes off to impress my partner was something that made me resent the process. Seeing people that would be surprised when they saw me that the fat wasn't "melting" off of me like they had predicted by watching my training was an itch I couldn't scratch. People would seem concerned that the running wasn't "working", and I had people close to me suggest I get blood-work done to try and rally this theory. I felt like a failure, and it wasn't until I took control of what I was doing by listening to my body instead of the mutter of other peoples expectations that I was finally able to feel the success that I had more than earned.
At this point the race is in two days, and I have no fears that I wont finish. I put in the work, and I am expecting to achieve my goal. This is a really good time to mention while I still feel that lingering disappointment of not losing the weight I wanted to lose I also feel a lot of pride for achieving what I set out to do. I work out 4-6 days a week at this point, I have lost several inches off of my stomach (not my boobs, but that's a whole other story), I can run a 10 min mile on the treadmill, and finish my workout having run more than I walked. My goal was to make exercise part of my life again, and take control of my body, and I did that. Maybe I am not the fastest, but running has given me back a sense of control in my life that I had surrendered to an unhealthy relationship with food and depression for quite some time. My mental health medication is no longer something I am dependent on. Not that there is any shame in taking medication, and I am grateful that I have this medication for when exercise isn't enough to keep me in a good head space. There is a lot to be said for the mile markers I have already hit before I even complete this half marathon. I have learned so much about myself every step of the way, and broken my own personal record time and time again. I would be lying if I didn't admit that I am probably not a long distance runner. The pride I felt the first time I hit 8 miles was quickly clouded by the pain and suffering I felt completing 10 miles. It fucking sucked. It was the worst pain I had ever inflicted upon myself, but damn was it satisfying to have made it.
So do I suggest running a half marathon to kick start a running regimen? Hell no. Do I suggest some sort of organized race to challenge you to find your own training program, and keep yourself accountable to a deadline. Hell yes. What a journey this has been, and it has given me back so much of myself that even when it went downhill, it left me with the accomplishment of overcoming my own up hill battle. I spent more time with myself in these past few months than I have in a long time, and it forced me to be independent in relation to achieving a goal. So to everyone who says "I could never do that", or " I cant even run around the block", that is false, you totally can. However, it will suck and you probably wont see me there.
Update: I have completed the half marathon since finishing this article. I wanted to quit during every mile marker past 7 miles, and my body is feeling pain that I didn't know it was capable of mustering. I would have quit had I not needed to finish to get my medal, and because I didn't want to be a pussy. Shout out to the girl with the sign that said "1 in 100 runners shit their pants. Will you be that 1." Full disclosure, I was that one. This is one of the glorious perks of long distance running no one tells you about. Like how no baby books mention you will possibly rip from clit to ass hole during birth, or have that black line on your belly for months. An additional shout out to the guy who stood at the 5 mile mark with the sign that said "The Kenyans are already finished". That was another fact, actually they finished 20 minutes before I saw that sign. When I started limping 4 miles out from the finish I should have know I was going to be fucked up from toe to hip, but the Game of Thrones font poster that said "Not Today" really challenged me to believe that sprinting the last mile was my best option, and brought my emotionally drained ass to tears. Reflecting I have to agree with everything I said in my final paragraphs about doing a half marathon. You'll know if you are made for the pavement. As for me, I will be at LA Fitness.
I was pretty gung-ho when I first started telling people I was going to run the race. Why it didn't occur to me to start with a 10k or something a little less far fetched I will never know, but in true Caitlin fashion I had to "go big or go home". Let me tell you, that's what I did. I went home, A LOT. I went home covered in sweat, or freezing on 30 degree days. I went home with shin splints, hip and groin pain, swollen hands and ankles, and clicking in my knees and shoulders. Then, it got a little easier, and I got a little faster (not a lot faster, but lets say a smidgen). Then, I went home, and got a new home, and my training lacked and I sat down and asked myself why I was doing this, and what I was going to do to not put my body at risk. People congratulated me prematurely, and told me how they could never run such lengths in comparison, but knowing how badly I was hurting, and how much weight I wasn't losing I felt like a fraud. The only thing that kept telling me that I was really doing this was the radiating pain I was constantly in, the accountability posts on social media, and the fact that I was ravenously hungry.
After doing some research (which would have been a better idea before I started) I learned a lot of consistent runners fear training for longer marathon races because of how hungry they get, and how it often leads to weight gain. So putting my body to its limits, and jumping right into a type of training I hadn't seen in almost 5 years brought me to my sores, and heaviest weight I had ever seen. At 5'3 and almost 220 pounds I knew that I was going about this the wrong way, and something had to give before I gave up.
I resorted back to my old friend the treadmill, and the lack of pounding erased my swelling and actually took 3 minutes off of my mile really quickly. I learned that I can run faster, and harder for shorter distances, and I was doing something that I hadn't been doing trying to self motivate through 10 miles outside, I was running. Not only was I running, but I felt good, and my body was responding the way I had hoped it would from the beginning. I was 8 weeks into my 11 week training, and had just figured out for the first time where my groove was. It wasn't until I stopped posting accountability posts for others to decide that I had run fast enough, or long enough that I finally started listening to my body, and remembered why I did this in the first place.
There was a huge portion of my training that I was angry with myself for not losing the 40 pounds I had set out to lose. My mental consumption with this having been for weight loss, and to look a certain way with my clothes off to impress my partner was something that made me resent the process. Seeing people that would be surprised when they saw me that the fat wasn't "melting" off of me like they had predicted by watching my training was an itch I couldn't scratch. People would seem concerned that the running wasn't "working", and I had people close to me suggest I get blood-work done to try and rally this theory. I felt like a failure, and it wasn't until I took control of what I was doing by listening to my body instead of the mutter of other peoples expectations that I was finally able to feel the success that I had more than earned.
At this point the race is in two days, and I have no fears that I wont finish. I put in the work, and I am expecting to achieve my goal. This is a really good time to mention while I still feel that lingering disappointment of not losing the weight I wanted to lose I also feel a lot of pride for achieving what I set out to do. I work out 4-6 days a week at this point, I have lost several inches off of my stomach (not my boobs, but that's a whole other story), I can run a 10 min mile on the treadmill, and finish my workout having run more than I walked. My goal was to make exercise part of my life again, and take control of my body, and I did that. Maybe I am not the fastest, but running has given me back a sense of control in my life that I had surrendered to an unhealthy relationship with food and depression for quite some time. My mental health medication is no longer something I am dependent on. Not that there is any shame in taking medication, and I am grateful that I have this medication for when exercise isn't enough to keep me in a good head space. There is a lot to be said for the mile markers I have already hit before I even complete this half marathon. I have learned so much about myself every step of the way, and broken my own personal record time and time again. I would be lying if I didn't admit that I am probably not a long distance runner. The pride I felt the first time I hit 8 miles was quickly clouded by the pain and suffering I felt completing 10 miles. It fucking sucked. It was the worst pain I had ever inflicted upon myself, but damn was it satisfying to have made it.
So do I suggest running a half marathon to kick start a running regimen? Hell no. Do I suggest some sort of organized race to challenge you to find your own training program, and keep yourself accountable to a deadline. Hell yes. What a journey this has been, and it has given me back so much of myself that even when it went downhill, it left me with the accomplishment of overcoming my own up hill battle. I spent more time with myself in these past few months than I have in a long time, and it forced me to be independent in relation to achieving a goal. So to everyone who says "I could never do that", or " I cant even run around the block", that is false, you totally can. However, it will suck and you probably wont see me there.
Update: I have completed the half marathon since finishing this article. I wanted to quit during every mile marker past 7 miles, and my body is feeling pain that I didn't know it was capable of mustering. I would have quit had I not needed to finish to get my medal, and because I didn't want to be a pussy. Shout out to the girl with the sign that said "1 in 100 runners shit their pants. Will you be that 1." Full disclosure, I was that one. This is one of the glorious perks of long distance running no one tells you about. Like how no baby books mention you will possibly rip from clit to ass hole during birth, or have that black line on your belly for months. An additional shout out to the guy who stood at the 5 mile mark with the sign that said "The Kenyans are already finished". That was another fact, actually they finished 20 minutes before I saw that sign. When I started limping 4 miles out from the finish I should have know I was going to be fucked up from toe to hip, but the Game of Thrones font poster that said "Not Today" really challenged me to believe that sprinting the last mile was my best option, and brought my emotionally drained ass to tears. Reflecting I have to agree with everything I said in my final paragraphs about doing a half marathon. You'll know if you are made for the pavement. As for me, I will be at LA Fitness.
Bitch you DID IT you SLAUGHTERED that half marathon. So proud of you!
ReplyDeleteI can’t say it enough how proud I am of you and how inspiring watching you go through this process was/is. You finishing that race and you writing this article is beyond inspiring to me. If you can do this I can meet my goals too. We need more relatable women like you. Real women.
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