Mini Thoughts

If I were to describe the Indy Mini in one word, it would be this: Humbling.

It didn't go at all how I thought it would, just like training didn't go at all how I thought it would.
My plan was to take it pretty easy the first half of the race, then push harder the second half and leave it all on the course the last mile.

Yeah... that didn't happen at all.

During my training I increased my milage a slight bit too quickly and injured my IT band. It's been a struggle to deal with for about 2 months now.

Despite all my preparation prior to the race - the week leading up to it, and the morning of - to try and decrease the pain, I felt it get tender and tighten up around mile 3.5, and by mile 6, it seriously hurt and only got worse from that point on.

The most frustrating part of the race was the fact that I knew how hard I worked in the months leading up to the race and my finishing time didn't exactly reflect that. I kept getting passed by people pushing wheelchairs, people wearing jeans, people wearing bright orange shirts, and carrying signs proudly displaying "Back of the Pack". Then, as I start mile 12, I see the truck that follows the last participant.

I was upset because I knew, physically, that I could push harder. My legs were tired, but not that tired, I was hardly winded at all, except when I started crying out of embarrassement or frustration, but the pain going from my hip to my knee kept me from pushing like I wanted to.

Before the race even started, I fought fury because ahead of me in my corral, a guy's shirt said: "If you're behind me, you didn't train either." It made me want to scream. I DID train. I WORKED HARD for months leading up to the race, and for years before that to get healthy. Thanks, random dude, for taking all that away from me.

My goal going into the race was simply to finish. Originally, I wanted to finish strong, but I was encouraged by some very smart people, that because of my injury, I shouldn't worry about finishing like a champion, but just to cross the finish line.

I heeded their advice (mostly) and tweaked my goal. That morning, I wanted to finish the race knowing I gave it my all. Knowing that I left it all on the course. I would like to think I gave everything I could have, but honestly, I'm plagued by second-guesses. I constantly fought the feeling that the months of training and all the hard work I'd put in both in and out of the gym, was for naught. Doubts further emphasized by the fact that I'm not as sore yesterday or today as I expected to be. Makes me wonder if I really did give it my all, or if I got in my head too much and held back when I should have pushed on.

Several times during the race, and even now, I had to make the conscience choice to be proud of what I did. I completed my first half marathon, and while it didn't go like I wanted it to, there were several things that were outside of my control. 13.1 miles is no easy feat, and shouldn't be trivialized by playing the comparison game, the "what if" game, or wondering if I really did what I set out to do. Of course I did what I set out to do! I crossed the finish line, and that's what matters. I just have to keep telling myself that!