Half Marathon: Goodbye to the old me

Hope you're all having a good day! I thought I'd share my most recent running NSV with you, to motivate those of you who will appreciate the story apologies for its length - you can skip to the pictures

Quick background: at 5'4" I started starving myself at 191 lbs to try and lose weight. This was horrible and I switched to healthy eating and calorie counting as a last resort. I wish it had been my first resort! As MFP taught me about the dangers of eating nothing, and how to lose weight successfully, I began running (first run 26/03/2011).

You may want to know what I looked like. Here are photos of me hovering around 180 (I tended to avoid the camera, so unfortunately no pictures above this weight):





What I didn't realise is that running stops hurting when you get good at it. I entered a 5K, but realised within a few weeks that was too easy a challenge. Once I was doing 10K runs, the slightly crazy side of my brain decided I should enter a half-marathon. My MFP friends didn't stop me - by the next morning I had committed myself to a half marathon 3 months later.

The 5K came and went, and I finished in 34:29 (unfortunately the race organisers didn't deduct the time it took for me to reach the start line, so in reality I would have run it in 33:17 by my estimations - however, that wasn't official!). It wasn't easy. During the 5K, I had doubts about the half-marathon. I was pushing myself hard, and didn't think I could cope with over four times the distance. Was I going to bottle out?

Doubts increased - I kept bottling out of runs over 15K, and I got a massive mental block between the 5K and the half marathon. I was saying things out loud about how I wasn't sure I was capable. I turned to my MFP friends for help. They did point out to me that I should be rehydrating with a sports drink, not pure water, so I went out for a 17 km run armed with Powerade. It turned out that was the change I needed to overcome the mental block!

My long runs extended once I got over the psychological hurdle of doubting myself. 17K. My final long run was 19.8K, in torrential rain, 3 weeks before the race. Perfect. No more doubts about managing the half marathon now!

Apart from a bad cough after this point which took me out of action for 12 days, nothing major caused me to doubt my ability after that. The day before the half marathon, having tapered, I felt a kind of quiet confidence in myself, which is not something I'm used to.

The logistics of the half marathon turned out to be quite simple, and a couple of my friends arrived at the start - poor things, out in the middle of London bleary eyed at 8:30 in the morning to cheer a friend - and calmed the small nerves I was getting. Then I turned my back on them and headed to the pens.

After a nerve-wracking wait while the elite runners and pretty good runners cross the start line (the kind of wait where you just want to get started already), I was off. I tried to make certain everyone was overtaking me, as I'd signed up for a sub-2:30 wave, and I was actually aiming for under 3 hours.

Reached the 3 mile mark 3 minutes earlier than I wanted to at 33:30. Damn! I had started out too fast despite all my preparation not to, and probably broken my 5K record. Still, I felt strong, and relaxed my pace to take the next 3 miles more gently. I passed the 6 mile mark in a more sensible time for my ability, at 1:16. Most of the hills had been conquered by this point!

A pigeon flew in my face at the 8 mile mark, which gave me an awful shock, even though it was mainly the pigeon's wing hitting my nose and dirtying the edge of my glasses. I was determined not to be overcome by a startled pigeon ruining my rhythm, however. I passed the 9 mile mark. I didn't even notice the 10 mile mark, but then I realised I had drunk too much liquid, and I felt like I was sloshing as I ran. Pain. Once I reached the 11 mile mark, I was struggling.

Downhill! Picked up my pace. Carried on at the faster pace after reaching level ground. Quickly tired myself out, and felt a bit stupid. I took a 20 second walking break, then kept... going... one leg in front of the other... repeat...

12 miles. Everyone around me was walking. I ran, albeit slowly and with aching legs.

750 m to go. Less than half a mile!

500 m to go. That felt like half a mile, darn it!

250 m to go. That passed surprisingly quickly...

Finish line: I spot the majority of my friends in the crowd. Call out to them, "Almost there!" and concentrate on reaching that finish line. CROSS THE FINISH LINE. You can stop running now. No, stop running. Stop... ah, that's it. Don't fall over.

The rest of the day was spent celebrating with my wonderful friends who witnessed me leave Fat Lazy Helen behind me. Thanks to them for supporting my journey (including one of them recently joined on here - you know who you are!) and thanks to my MFP friends for not telling me I'm silly for considering a half marathon and helping me over my mental block!

Final time 2:44:30. Also, here I am being made to run by a friend so she can take a picture of me in a running pose:



Thanks for listening!