60 Pounds Down (272 to 212 at 5’5”) – 8 Years Ago I ran my First Half Marathon

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The last time I was at this weight was 8 years ago. I was 32 years old and was picking up my tracker, number, and jersey for my first half-marathon. As I lined up at the starting line on race day, I was amazed at how surreal this all was. I always loved watching fitness documentaries, but never saw myself “in” them. It was aspirational, but never a reality. But then, the whistle blew and we were off. As I was a new runner, using a run/walk method, I often took walk breaks.

During one of those, another runner said just loud enough for me to hear, “I wish I could walk this.” It stung, but as I looked around, I realized I was ON the course. I wasn’t on the sidelines. I wasn’t in my bed. I was DOING a half marathon – no matter how slow.

I kept on running.

Long runs are a lot about stubbornness. Keeping going even though everything hurts and it telling you to stop. My body was carrying me, past hurt runners, on the sidelines. Past the observers and my cheering friends and family. My body was doing this.

More advanced runners began lapping me and a few stopped and chatted with me when they could have sailed by. We were the same at that moment.

As the finish line came into focus, I was surprised that I had done it. My previously weak *kitten* body had done it. I finished it, 13.1 miles, in 3 hours and 24 minutes, with an average pace of 15.36. My body was still moving, my heart was still beating, my lungs burned, my legs carried me home. I did it!

It was one of the best days of my life.

And then I stopped.

My body hurt everywhere. I had done what I set out to do and I crossed that finish line. Stopped exercising, stopped, tracking. Stopped. And gained back to those 20 pounds I had just lost, plus 40 more for good measure. I think my downfall was that I saw a finish line. Because of course with our health, there ISN’T a finish line until we’re dead. And I am not dead yet.

So, in the past few months, I turned 40 and have got back on the journey of health and have lost those 60 pounds I gained after crossing the imaginary finish line.

Because, little did I know that on the day I ran the marathon, my daughter was 4 months old and was about to crawl into my life. Now I have new goals. I want to see my daughter grow up. I want to see some grandbabies. I want to be healthy, just “not sick.” I want to run more races.

And there is no finish line.

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