On July 8th, 2012, I did the Missoula Half-Marathon
(13.1 Miles) and finished – which was my only goal
really. There were over 6,000 entrants between the half and the full with
about two-thirds of them being in the half – I finished in 1675th
place overall, and 155th place in my age group (45-49) with a time of 3:39:34. I had hoped to
complete it between 3 and 4 hours and that is almost exactly what I did.
I had a pretty rough go. On Saturday – the day before
the race – I smashed my head and left leg getting into a car (think low overhead) and ended up on my butt with a pretty good
head ache/neck ache/leg ache. The day of the race I had to get up at 4:00
am – yes, I said a.m.! (I know … that’s
practically a crime!) Because of
all the traffic, and Dennis and I were towing our camper with us, he basically
had to kick me out of the truck to catch the bus to the race start. Not
how I wanted to begin – no water bottle, forgot to take my glasses off, and no
prayer time.
So now I’m at the start – keep in mind there is over 3,000
people at the start with me – and I’m just waiting for the gun to go off; not
thinking about WHERE
I was waiting. So, I’m probably not more than 50 feet from the actual
start line when the cannon booms, at which point I am swept along in a tide of
people who are running up the hill at a much faster pace than I have ever run (and which many of you know in the
last few weeks of training I wasn’t even running because I had a broken toe –
mostly walking [and planned to mostly walk the race]) and generally feeling like I’m on my last
leg ... literally! By the time I got to mile marker 1, I wasn’t even sure
I was going to go on; I was that discouraged by the whole process.
Then I started thinking about all the time I had put in and
what I really wanted to happen. What is that line from “The Outlaw Josey Wales” spoken by the Indian Chief (Chief Dan George): “we must endeavor to persevere”. So I did. By mile 4, I was on
a steady roll (16 minute/mile
pace +/-) and kept that up
until the last mile – which is by far the hardest, and seemed like
forever.
Dennis was waiting for me at the finish line and that was
fantastic; I’ve never had someone waiting (or cheering for me) at any kind of event I’ve ever done. After escaping
the athletes’ fence – yes they had us fenced in – we walked several blocks to
our pickup and off we went to continue our camping vacation. I was tired,
but generally feeling pretty good; just needed some food and rest.
As per some recommendation, I drank some chocolate milk and
ate a Clif Bar to revive myself; which was a terrible mistake. About an
hour later I was down for the count – making Dennis stop along the road so I
could throw up; not a pretty sight. Thought that was done and over with,
we went on our way and within another hour I started feeling really dizzy and
Dennis again stopped the truck, this time when I got out, I passed out.
Woke up on the ground wondering how on earth I got there. Weird!
Now it’s been a couple of days and I’m a lot better.
Was pretty sore on Monday, stiff on Tuesday, and thinking I might make it
today. Just imagine how bad it could have been if some of you hadn’t been
praying for me! All in all, I would do it again. Stay cool …
Lori <><
Sharing life ...
sharing Christ
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