I haven’t run a race since 2010, and I honestly wasn’t sure if I’d ever find the motivation to participate in one again. I’ve run my fair share of races, and my mindset for many of them has been overly critical and unhealthy. Whether it was a high stakes race in high school or a small 5K on the Fourth of July in my 30s, I’d always end up being too hard on myself. Instead of having fun, I’d beat myself up over ways I could’ve or should’ve gone faster or obsessing over who beat me. So I was taken by surprise when registration for the Celebrate Life Half Marathon opened and I suddenly had the urge to enter.
I thought for sure the urge would quickly die, but instead it continued to grow. The biggest obstacle I faced however, was convincing myself that it would be OK to walk and sign up for the early start. That may sound absurd, but my “too competitive for my own good” mindset has always been of the opinion that if I’m going to enter a race, I’d better be ready to RACE. Therefore, walking isn’t allowed and neither is a “head start.”
There’s plenty of legitimate reasons why I’ve stopped running races – most notably that my schedule has been packed with family, coaching, and everything that comes with having kids in a touring band. Weekends are almost always full. Coaching cross country and track over the past few years while my own kids competed, has allowed me to be involved in the sport and experience my favorite part of it — the camaraderie between runners and the exciting atmosphere at the events. That was always enough.
This past year however, the urge to be a participant again has been strong. I’d often daydream about what it would feel like to be in a race again instead of being a spectator, so once it was confirmed that this would be the final year for the CLHM, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. After all, CL was the first half I ever ran many years ago when it began and where I fell in love with running longer distances. My brain kept telling me I couldn’t miss the opportunity to run the finale. The idea thrilled and frightened me, but I kept finding excuses:
*My kids were already signed up so if I ran I’d miss the chance to cheer them on and see them finish.
*A 5 mile run took everything out of me to finish. It would be naïve to think that in two months I’d be ready to run 13 miles.
*Even though the early start was an option, I couldn’t silence the critic in my head that kept insisting real runners wouldn’t need a head start.
* I also had to face the reality that I’d be walking a lot of it, which didn’t sit well with my competitiveness.
Thankfully I came to my senses and realized how crazy those excuses sounded. I would never discourage anyone from walking or tell them it was less of an accomplishment if they started early or took a long time. I certainly didn’t believe that about other people, so why was I so critical of myself?
That realization forced me to look at myself objectively and consider the actual facts:
I’m 52.
For more than a year I’ve been dealing with a frustrating health issue, yet I’m still out there plugging away.
I’ve finally learned to appreciate the joy found in movement, and being forced to start over has taught me to be grateful for the gift of running in and of itself.
Wouldn’t it be an awesome accomplishment even if I walked the entire distance? Why should I allow the inner critic who I’ve been silencing for the past few years prevent me from participating in something so cool?
Empowered by this liberating attitude, I went for a run and imagined myself walking and running different parts of the race. Just the thought of being there in the race excited me, so I knew I had to go for it. When I got home, I signed up — early start and all! Once it was official, I made the decision to use this as an opportunity for celebration.
First and foremost it’s an opportunity to participate in something that will benefit others, particularly local individuals and families who have fought cancer.
I’m going to be participating with my kids– how cool is that?
It’s also not lost on me how truly lucky I am to have the ability to sign up and run any of it. There have been many moments over the last 16 months when things could have gone much worse, so I’m going to celebrate the fact that I can run at all. What a perfect way to celebrate the second chance I’ve been given and the new approach I’ve embraced toward running, aging, and taking care of myself. We don’t often get second chances. I’m not going to squander this one by falling back into unhealthy behaviors and thoughts that prevailed for decades, and prevented me from appreciating the ability to run.
When I stand on that starting line, I’m going to breathe deeply and take it all in from a new perspective – one that celebrates second chances, recovery, and a new commitment to doing all that I can to thrive in my 50s!
