A week ago I ran the Portlandathon Half Marathon. I did it to raise money for Sherwood Young Life, which is a huge part of Audrey's life right now. I was pretty well trained and looked forward to the run - well, mostly. Usually come race morning I am nervous, regretting my decision and texting Jenny. She always gives me a pep talk and convinces me to actually make my way to the starting line. There was a good turnout and the weather was decent. Audrey and a couple friends were going to be at the start/finish to cheer on everyone running/walking for Young Life.
I have a history of ALWAYS starting out these runs too fast. I can't help myself - adrenaline, nerves, the crowd. ALWAYS. I feel pretty good until about mile 8-9 and then I am DYING. So, this time I decided I would try something different. Sometimes races have pacers. I have tried to stay with a pacer before but my enthusiasm usually gets the best of me so I pass the pacer and then they often pass me in the end. Makes no sense. I know. This time I told myself I would stay with this pacer the ENTIRE TIME. I was proud of myself. Way to try something new. I was going to feel great at the end of this run. The problem is YOU SHOULDN'T PICK A PACER/PACE THAT IS TOO FAST. And I did. I decided to pick the pacer that runs near the top of my mile pace. So, guess what? By mile 8 I was dying. Same story. I even had to pull myself over to the side for a minute and give myself a pep talk. The route wasn't very pretty. Five miles to go still seemed like FOREVER. So, after a minute I convinced myself to start running again and to just slow it down. I don't consider myself a very competitive person in general. When it comes to beating myself though? Very competitive. I want to go faster. I want to beat a certain time that I have set. It isn't about the other racers (well, most of the time). I am running against myself. So, I told myself to chill.
The pep talk, combined with my new favorite running song and life anthem, Pink's "I Am Here," convinced me to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Around mile 10 I also ran by a guy running the half in his exoskeleton with a crew of people. Amazing. This enabled a man who was paralyzed to complete a half marathon. With renewed inspiration, I continued. Around mile 11, I rounded a corner and there in front of me, and in my way, was a train. It was a very long and very slow train. A crowd of runners that had been ahead of me had also started to gather. There was no other way for us to get to the end. Clearly some runners were very frustrated. Initially, I was too. I stopped my timer and stood there with the ever growing crowd.
The marathon had joined up with us half marathoners by then and these are people probably on pace to qualify for the Boston Marathon. And now they had a train to contend with. I felt their frustration. This would likely keep some of them from qualifying. The train stopped a couple of times. In those brief instances, some people decided to climb through/around the train to all the volunteers' dismay. I was nervous the train would start and we would have a medical emergency on our hands. The delay continued but my attitude started to change. I felt bad for the runners trying to qualify but what did I have at stake? I was mentally struggling. I had stopped my watch so I could still get my own accurate time. Audrey was safe and waiting for me. While inconvenient, the train wasn't really a huge problem for me in the scheme of things. I chatted a bit with the runners around me. A few people took videos of the crowd and I rested my legs. By the time the train was finally past I felt rested, renewed and like two more miles was possible. My legs had turned into 100 lb bricks during the rest but once they moved for a few minutes I found my stride again. Before I knew it, the final mile was in sight. The scenery became prettier and I saw the finish line. When I checked my time, I had finished the last two miles post train at a pace faster than I had been going pre-train.
The train was a good reminder. For many it was a huge headache - I am sure the race organizers will be dealing with the aftermath for a long time. But for me, out there running to raise money and not to qualify for any race, the train gave me a chance to rest, catch my breath and get some perspective. The pause allowed me to remember that two miles really isn't that far...less than 20 minutes of my life. I don't always love my first reactions. When I first saw the train I was irritated. But, it ended up being a positive. I need to remember that one. If I could hit the pause button more often before reacting, I probably wouldn't have to apologize as much - or wish I could relive a moment in time. I have come across a few unexpected trains this past month. Just when I think I might get a stretch of flat open highway....a train. But each time it has ended up being less of a big deal than I initially anticipated. Next time I round the corner to the unexpected, instead of frustration, I will try to remember to welcome the unexpected opportunity to breathe and gain a new perspective.
