A Reflection on Five Years of Long Distance Running
I ran my fifth half-marathon today!
About two months ago, I made a goal of running my fifth half-marathon before the end of the year.
I hadn’t run this distance in over three years, which I wasn’t happy about. Even though I’ve run pretty consistently and even ran my fastest 5K during this time period, there’s just something about running in the double-digits that makes me feel like I did something really big.
The first time I ran a half-marathon, it was the greatest feeling in the world. I took a photo of my watch and a selfie, because I couldn’t believe that Fat Rafia had just run 13.1 miles (to be fair, I was no longer fat at this time — it’s more of a mental thing). It was about six months after the COVID lock-downs. Prior to that, all of my running was done on the treadmill, with the exception of a couple of 5K races I participated in.
When I went out for my first non-race run in March 2020, I didn’t think I would be able to run 13.1 miles just five months later. But I fell in love with going out early in the morning and being alone amongst the trees. I wanted run everyday and some weeks I probably did. I felt like the world was mine being out there all by myself. I realize now I needed it as an escape from all the panic around me. It’s been five years, but things were pretty crazy back then. Remember the hand sanitizer hoarding? It’s so incredible how easily we (I) forget.
When we moved to the other side of town in 2022, I lost my cherished running routes. I continued to run, but I put my efforts into speed-work given the constraints.
When we moved into this home this past May, part of my excitement was being so close to one of the largest municipal parks in the nation. I got into trail running finally and absolutely loved it. It almost made summer-running somewhat bearable. As the days got cooler though, the urge to run longer distances came back in full force. I had no excuses this time around. I had the route. I had access to a bathroom. I had what I needed.
Beginning last month, I began my “training” i.e. increasing my weekly long run by a mile each week until I hit 13.1.
This weekend was the weekend.
Normally I scramble in the morning to gather all my stuff. Last night though, I acted like I was running a real race. I gathered all my gels, prepared my electrolytes, and filled my back with all the essentials. I even laid my running shoes and socks out in front of the bench next to the garage. Even though I should not have had pre-race jitters, I couldn’t sleep last night. I had no goal of hitting a personal record (PR). I just wanted to finish.
Earlier this week, while trail running down slope, I tripped on a tree root and fell down head first. I got a pretty bad bruise on my left shoulder and felt some residual pain in my ribs, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. I had to do this this weekend.
This time around, it wasn’t about proving Fat Rafia wrong. It was a little bit of that but much more. The last two years have been rough for me. I needed to prove to myself that I wasn’t a complete and total failure in everything. I know I’m being Drama Baazi Rafia now, but seriously, I wrote an entire memoir about this. You’re just going to have to wait to read it until it never comes out!
My first mile was a decent time, considering I was going uphill. The first three miles were a slog though. Just a week ago, I ran a 5K in about 26 minutes in the HEAT, why the heck was this taking so long? I took my first gel about 40 minutes in. Mmm, birthday cake! Then things started to pick up. Then at around 7.5 miles, I fished out my caffeinated gel. Mmm, chocolate outrage! I’m not sure if 20 mg of caffeine was enough to actually have a physical impact, but mentally it did. To be honest, it may have been the chocolate. Seriously, maybe I like to run long distances because of how good these gels taste. And I feel zero guilt! Then I started seeing mile times in the 9s, which was crazy! When I hit the 2-hour mark and saw how much I had left to go, I was like, “Girl, you are gonna go for that PR!”
AND I DID!
I shaved off over 3 minutes! I don’t know what’s typical, but I was not expecting that. What’s even more surprising is how much faster I am today than I was when I thought I was in my peak running phase five years ago.
Maybe all the hill-running this year has made me stronger? I have not lifted weights in months. Or maybe I’m fueling better, now that I’m not weighing myself five times a day and counting every morsel I consume?
Honestly, it’s pretty cool to feel healthier at age 38 than I was at age 18 (obviously!) or even at age 28, when I was thinner than I am today (but that was only because I was trying to lose ten pounds before my wedding).
Maybe I just love running now. Not for the weight I hope to lose from it, but for its own sake.
Maybe I can finally let go of Fat Rafia.
I love this for you. My husband always loved “going out for a run.” It was a huge mood equalizer for him and if something bothered him, he always felt better after. Endorphins, time with yourself, increased fitness—the benefits are many. And the inner voice that struggles to let Fat Rafia go is real. I, too, am healthier than I was in my 20s, 30s AND 40s. It’s a great accomplishment when you can invest in you. I’m proud of you!
Very inspirational and motivational!