So, I’ve been working my butt off to get back to this space. Getting back to this space took blood, sweat, tears, snot, boogers, curse words – ev-ver-ree thing that I had in me.
If y’all don’t know what I’m talking about let me give you some back story. In 2014, three months after running my first marathon. I had two car accidents that almost ended my running journey. After those car accidents all the races I signed up for I DNS (That’s “did not start” for those who don’t know the running lingo). All the appointment for press appearances disappeared, interviews for different magazines and newspapers miraculously disappeared into the ether. After those car accidents, I felt useless. My story didn’t matter to them once they found out I was injured. As a result, it made me felt like I didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that I use to weigh nearly 400 pounds and the doctor called me fat, told me that I was going to die and when I told him I was going to run a marathon – he laughed at me. It didn’t matter that I trained my ass off and ran said marathon weighing over 300 pounds. It didn’t matter that I lost almost 100 pounds – none of it mattered! When I had those car accidents everything that made me disappeared into thin air. I felt like I was nothing and I didn’t want to live.
It took almost two years to get healed from what happened in 2014. By then I gained all the weight I lost plus an extra 30 for good measure. Either way, I was eager to start the journey again. I missed running so much and that’s all I wanted to do while I was down. Then life happened! Hello, Achilles tendonitis with micro-tears! Hello Ultrasound Therapy! What’s up Physical Therapy? Hola Prolotherapy! I was injured again. The doctors told me it’s not in my best interest to run again. They said I should lose weight and that may help with my Achilles issues. “But how do I lose weight when my method for doing that is running, Doc?” This led to me finding a third, fourth, and even fifth opinions, experimental treatments that my insurance wouldn’t cover, and me proclaiming that I will run again no matter what the doctors said. So, I push forward and all those things lead me to this date at the starting line of the Race to The End of Summer Half Marathon.
While most of my injuries are healed, my previous Achilles injury is always in the back of my head. As a result, I changed my method of running to the Galloway Run-Walk-Run method. After a lot of research, I decided that running intervals would be the best way for me to get back into running without more stress to my Achilles. Since walk breaks are a part of the program I don’t have to feel bad if or when my Achilles give me trouble.
The day of the race I woke up at 3 am. I was wired and no matter what I did I couldn’t go back to sleep. So, after an hour of staring at the ceiling and Instagram, I got dressed, made breakfast, and put my contact in my eyes. Mrs. 300PAR got up shortly thereafter, got dress and we headed to the race. The car ride was not long, about 30 or so minutes. I sat quietly as I listen to my thoughts and visualized the entire race in my head. What would I do when the gun goes off? What do I do if the Gingerbread Man comes? What do I do if my Achilles gives me trouble? As thoughts raced mind I calmly took deep breaths and before I knew it we’re pulling into the parking lot of the park where the race starts.
It’s about a half mile walk from the parking lot to the starting line. While walking to the start/finish line I started my warm-up routine. As we approach the start/finish line of the race Mrs. 300PAR asks, “Is that it?” sounding underwhelm. “Yea, I guess”, I responded. There were about 40 or so people at the starting line stretching and doing calisthenics. “There is going to be a 30-minute delay,” the announcer explains over the PA system. A sense of relief went over me because that explains why so few people were here. We found a spot to get settled and I started my warm-up routine again. Since we have some extra time I can focus on each exercise. About 10 minutes into warming up Kathy, a lady I met a few weeks prior at a meetup and we bonded over the fact that we ran intervals, greeted Mrs.300PAR and I. We chatted until it was time to line up at the starting line. Kathy and I line up next to each other and I ask her which intervals she was running. 90/30 and you, she responds. I responded, “60/60”. We both nodded and the starting gun went off signaling us to run. We were off to the races and I knew I would come back to claim my medal.
Kathy and I made small talk for the first half mile as we ran our intervals. Everything seems to be going well until I got the sensation to go to the bathroom. I told Kathy that would catch up with her later on and we parted ways. When I got out of the porta-potty I could see Kathy about a half mile down the trail. I told myself that I can catch her and sprinted towards her but that did not happen. So, I had a choice to make, try to catch up with a familiar face and good conversation during the race or run alone. I decided there was no point to waste my energy at the beginning of the race. So I choose to run alone.
Mile 1: I checked in with myself to see how I’m doing. I asked myself how I’m feeling (Feeling strong!), how’s my Achilles and hips doing (Pain-free!) and how I’m feeling mentally (Feeling positive about the race!). Overall, I felt great about this race. By the time I made it to mile 2, my body was on autopilot. The app told me when to run/walk and I did just that.
Mile 6.5: At the halfway point of the race I saw Kathy and she had passed the pacers for the 3-hour finish. I yelled, “Good for you Kathy you are killing it,” and gave her a high-five. As I approached the water table I heard, “You’re doing good, keep going,” from the volunteers. I release a quick smile, grab a cup of lukewarm water took a swig and dump the rest on my head. On the way back, I gave high-fives and words of encouragement to the runners that I passed.
Mile 8: I did another check-in and overall, I still felt great. So, I decided to turn on my running playlist and sing some song as I enjoyed the views of the race. I ran by this huge mountain with cows on the side of it. I thought that is the closest I’ll get to cow tipping…
Mile 9: The sun was out and beaming on the back of my neck. One thing that I’m learning about Northern California weather is that even though it may be 75 degrees the sun is still oppressive. As the sun continued to beam on the back of my neck, my pace started to decline.
Mile 10: The volunteers yelled, “You only have 5K to go!!!” Great I got at least another 45 minutes in this oppressive sun. At the last water table, I grab a cup of Gatorade, took couple swigs and threw the cup in the makeshift trash can made out of a box with a trash bag in it. I took three or four steps from the trash and I felt this stinging pain in my calf. It startled me!!! I yelled in pain. I look down and two wasps were flying around my leg. Did these mf’ers sting me? Oh, hell naw!!! Not knowing the difference from a bee or wasp sting I rolled down my sock to see if there is was a stinger in my calf. I didn’t see or feel anything so I rolled my sock up and continued running.
With every step I took it felt as if I was getting stung over and over in my calf. I stopped to reexamine my calf nothing was there but the stinging sensation was very present. Maybe I should go back to the water station and tell them I need a medic? Naw, I got this! I’m not allergic to bug bites I have to work through this pain. I continue running. With every step the feeling of being stung intensified. I turned the volume up on my headphones and tried to sing to disassociate from the pain. I contemplated quitting the race at least five before I determined that I need to finish this race.
Mile 11: I am startled by someone yelling, “On your left!” I move to the right of the trail and this old lady power walking passes me. She looks at me and says almost me almost there!! Thank you, I replied as I gritted out a smile. My smile quickly turns into a frown as this power walking demon pass me. Wait a minute to the hell I’m going to let someone power walking beat me to the finish line. I picked up the pace but she was too fast and I was out of gas. I let out a huge sigh of disappointment and thought to myself you’re here to finish not to race with some power walking demon. Damn, you’re right Martinus! I need to stick to the plan. It’s interesting the amount of dialogue I have with myself while running.
Mile 12.5: I start to see people with medals around their neck eating a stale everything bagel. “You got this big guy you’re almost there. The finish line is right around this corner.” One of them proclaimed. Yeah right! I hate when people say you’re almost there and you’re not there. Yet, when I turned the corner I could see Kathy with her medal around her neck cheering me on. I ran as fast as I could through the finish line, raised my hands in victory and gave Kathy a hug. One of the volunteers put a medal around my neck I pause to take a quick picture and that was it.
I did it! I ran my first half marathon since all of this stuff happen in 2014. From working through depression, from wanting to die to feeling like my journey was over. I bounced back, I got back up and did what had to do to get back on the road and crossed that finish line. I proved to myself that I can do it again. It may take years to get back but I never took my eyes off the prize. To those of you reading this never take anything for granted because it could be taken from you in a matter of seconds. The other thing is this: A setback is a set up for a comeback. Guess what? I’m back!!!!
